holds the handles of the beer mugs, dancing her way across the floor to take them back to their table. Curiously, I wonder which one of them will come up next to tell me something private. Perks of being a bartender . . . I know what’s on everyone’s mind and heart.
Like now.
Everyone is ready for Bobby, though it doesn’t take a brain trust to figure that out because the crowd has moved from doing walk-bys to chanting his name and telling him, “Come on, man. Get up there.”
Before the crowd gets too carried away, Bobby takes the stage. The hoots and hollers get louder and louder, and his smile gets wider and brighter.
Instead of his usual introduction, he goes off-script. “Thanks everyone. I know you thought I might have something to tell you tonight.” The crowd quiets, hungry for news. “Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me. Assholes out in Nashville—”
“Language!” Mama Louise shouts, and everyone laughs.
Bobby looks to the ceiling as though praying for patience. “Sorry, Mama Louise. I meant, the people in Nashville weren’t what I thought they’d be, and most importantly, Willow’s here. And wherever she goes, I go.” His shrug is easy, as if that’s the most obvious thing in the whole wide world. His eyes lift from the crowd to meet mine across the room. “Love you, sweetheart!”
“Love you, too!” I yell loudly.
“Aww,” several female voices sound out.
It’s a sweet moment until a deeper, masculine voice shouts, “Fuck those city boys! Stay here with us, Bobby!”
Hats wave around, hands lift beers in the air, and a general sense of laughter washes over the crowd, though I see a few raised brows. I’m betting those are the tourists from the resort.
Amazingly, not too long ago, I was a tourist, a short-timer planning to stay for a few months. Now, I’m one of the locals. This town is my home. That man on stage is my home. He said he’ll go wherever I go, but the opposite is true too. I’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and enjoy every step of the journey at his side.
He sings all my favorites, both his own and covers. His gravelly voice hits me soul-deep, and I fall a little more in love each time I hear him. I dance my way around behind the bar, singing along quietly with him as I fill orders.
“This is a new one I wrote recently. One of those Nashville people told me that a broken heart can be the best inspiration. I hate to admit this—you have no idea how much I hate to, though some of you might’ve seen the fallout of that—but he might’ve been right. Though it’s a theory I’m not willing to test again.” I can see the pain he went through written in the lines of his frown. “Anyway, may you never feel this way.”
Gave you everything, I was yours.
Took your heart because you were mine.
Standing in the tatters that you left behind,
I still love you.
Each word is laced with tortured heartbreak, slicing through me and bringing tears to my eyes. “Oh, Bobby,” I say softly, clutching my bar towel to my chest.
He finishes the song on a long, mournful note that holds the entire audience in rapture. And then there’s a quiet heartbeat before the crowd claps and cheers.
Bobby flashes that cocky grin. “Don’t y’all go thinking I’ve gone soft. The next one I’m working on is called Willow, Get Your Ass Over Here and Love Me.” He laughs, and the audience laughs along with him. Mama Louise doesn’t even try to correct his language this time. And I shake my head, knowing that here, there, or anywhere . . . I love him.
I have no problem holding my head high this time as I cross the room. Nope, I walk right up to that stage, catch his eye, and crook a finger at him. He winks at the audience, but when he turns to me, he’s my Bobby, sweet and emotional, bossy and possessive, sexy and dirty-mouthed. When he bends down, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him like he’s my air, right there in front of the whole audience.
“Woohoo, getcha sum!” a shout goes up from the crowd.
“I love you,” he whispers against my mouth, just for me to hear.
“Love you too.”
I might do a little happy dance back across the floor to the bar, and I definitely sing along louder as Bobby goes into his next song.
I’m