Page 107 of Dirty Laundry (Get Dirty 2)

I glare at him, and he smirks, “I dare you to get that fine ass out here with me.”

Fuck, he knows I’m coming out there after his whole speech about my daring him and his following through. I take a deep breath and step out onstage.

The wall of supportive sound that hits me as I step awkwardly out helps unlock my knees, and as I give a little wave, I even hear a few wolf-whistles, which helps even more. Still, it seems like Keith is miles away as I walk the few yards to him in the center of the stage.

As soon as I’m close enough, he takes my hand, pulling me to his side and kissing me fully . . . in front of everyone. But it settles the swarm of butterflies in my belly a bit, even as it starts another type of fluttering in my body.

There’s some noise again, but it seems to be a mix of cheering, more wolf-whistles, and a lot of ‘awws.’

Keith releases me, spinning me out to let the whole crowd get another look at me. “So everyone, this is my woman, Elise. Elise, this is . . . everyone.”

The crowd goes wild again, and I see lots of people waving, but even more phones being held up, recording this craziness. “So, I’ve got one more song to play for you, but I thought maybe you could help me with something first.”

Keith moves the microphone out of the way and looks at me, our eyes locked as he slowly drops to one knee. The crowd roars again, a physical force that nearly knocks me over as my head spins. From the corner of my vision, I see a two-man crew run onstage with a camera and a boom mic above us and realize they’re beaming us to the big jumbotron screens for the audience.

Oh. My. God. What is happening? Is he doing what I think he’s doing? Oh, my God.

Keith takes my hands in his, looking up at me. “Elise, I wasn’t looking for you. I didn’t think this was in my cards, at least not for a long time, maybe never. But you came into my life, full of sass and refusing to take no as an answer. And we somehow fit together perfectly. You have given me so much . . . your heart, your trust, your love. And you have mine too . . . all of me. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. Elise Warner, will you marry me?”

From somewhere, he’s pulled out a ring and is holding it at my fingertip, his eyes shining hopefully. The tears are already rolling down my face as he waits, the shock and beauty of the moment overwhelming me.

I can’t get a word out. My head’s spinning so much, so I nod. “Yes, Keith. God, yes!” I finally whisper. “I love you.”

He slides the ring on my finger, and I can’t even see it as he swoops up, hugging and spinning me, and I can finally breathe, joyful laughter filling the air as I cling to him. “I love you so much, Keith.”

He sets me down, and I realize the crowd is still going crazy, a deafening roar of celebration coming from every direction.

Holy shit, I just got engaged on stage at a concert. My fiancé’s concert. Whose life is this?

Keith grabs the microphone again, still holding my hand. “Thanks, everyone. I think that went okay. What do you think?” he teases.

They cheer again, and Keith looks back, giving some sort of signal. The stage lights dim, and I see two stagehands come out, one with Keith’s guitar and another with a stool. I think at first that Keith is going to sit down and sing, but he gestures to me instead.

I settle on the hard stool, thankfully remembering to sit up straight as Keith strums a few chords. “All right, Boise. I started this new song when it seemed like everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. It was angry, it was bitter . . . a real country song.”

That earns a few laughs, and Keith continues. “But when I looked at the things that really mattered, that was all I needed to realize just how lucky I am. The song changed . . . because Elise changed me.”