Page 38 of Fire and Icing (The Firemen of Waterford TN #1)

“Follow me,” Miles tells them. He turns to Ginny. “Don’t worry about these three. Jerry will be here in a half hour. If there’s trouble, he’ll bounce them.”

I laugh out loud at the idea of my crew getting tossed out by a bouncer.

Miles signals to his wait staff and two guys in black T-shirts with the words “Fork & Fiddle” on the chest lift one of the smaller tables and a few chairs and set it down in front of the stage so my unruly friends can have their seating of choice.

My friends . Yeah. I like that, even if they are acting obnoxious tonight.

The door swings open and Emberleigh steps inside wearing a green dress and cowboy boots.

Her red hair is curled and falling loosely around her face.

And she’s got this red lipstick on. Her eyes have something too—they look huge and beautiful.

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her get dressed up. I nearly swallow my tongue.

The three stooges turn their heads in unison and Cody lets out a low whistle. “Wow, Emberleigh. Looking good.”

Mine . Something primal in me growls from within my soul. I don’t have to worry though, because she’s not looking at Cody, she’s staring straight at me as she walks into the room. Ginny greets her and her friends. The four of them follow Ginny to the picnic table.

I cover the mic and lean away from it. “Hey, Firecracker.”

“Hi.” She smiles shyly at me, as if she’s as nervous as I am.

“You look amazing,” I say.

“Thanks. You do too.”

“Aww,” her friend, one of the ones that was at the book club meeting, says. “You two are adorable.”

“Aren’t they, though?” Syd says with a smile.

The house lights start to dim and the stage lights turn on. Miles comes up and takes the mic.

“Hey, everyone. Welcome out. We’re so glad to have y’all at Fork & Fiddle for another Saturday night of good food, good friends and good music.”

The people shout out comments and cheer. It’s the kind of familiarity only found in a group of people who know Miles and one another well.

Miles points toward me. “I don’t know if you’ve had the pleasure of meeting the rookie at Station One yet, but this here is Dustin.

He’s going to play us a little guitar and sing for us.

You go ahead and order. Our servers will be making the rounds.

And I highly recommend the strawberry shortcake.

The berries are sweet as a smile from a southern girl.

And the shortcake tastes like your memaw made it. ”

Someone shouts, “Not my memaw! She couldn’t bake a shortcake to save her life.”

Someone else shouts. “Show some respect, Buckshot!”

Someone else shouts, “He’s not lyin’, that shortcake went down like a brick.”

The room erupts in laughter.

“Okay,” Miles says, “My memaw, rest her soul. The shortcake’s as good as my memaw’s. Now do y’all want to have a shortcake showdown or should we let Dustin sing us some songs?”

Everyone shouts that they want me to sing, so I grab my guitar, thank Miles and take the mic.

“I want to thank you all for having me out here tonight. It’s always a privilege to sing for people. I want to start out with one everyone knows. You’re welcome to sing along if you want.”

“Except you, Clint,” someone shouts.

I chuckle. “Okay, everyone but Clint.”

The crowd laughs.

I start in with the finger picking of the intro and then I sing the first line of Country Roads by John Denver.

People sing along a little in the verse, but when I hit the chorus, nearly the whole room joins in—even Emberleigh.

My eyes keep traveling to her, but I know I’m here to do a job, so I force myself to look around the room and connect with other people.

I’m wrapping up the last verse when I spot the guy Syd was with at a back table.

Evan? Yeah. Evan. I glance over at Emberleigh’s table, Syd’s turned sideways so she can either look at me or toward the back of the restaurant.

And she’s staring at that guy, Evan, and smiling.

Evan’s smiling back at her. They’re definitely having a moment.

Syd looks away and starts chatting with one of the women at her table.

I sing three more songs, one of them, Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours by Stevie Wonder. Another two songs, and then I close out the set with one last song.

“This song, well, I wrote it,” I say, staring at Emberleigh. “For someone who stole my heart.” I look out into the crowd. “Did anyone ever steal your heart? Maybe they didn’t know you’d have given it freely to them? And you don’t ever want it back.”

A few people say, “Yes.” Others just smile at me or at one another.

“Well, this woman is the best of thieves. And this song is for her.”

The crowd, now fully tuned in and on board with me after a few sing-alongs and some fun banter, whistles and cheers.

“Here’s to all the special people in our lives. Especially those who steal our hearts.”

I strum my guitar and on a whim, I move closer to her table, away from the mic. The room’s not all that huge. People can hear me. I take a seat on the edge of the stage. That puts me nearly eye-level with my girlfriend.

My girlfriend .

And I sing this song, the one I wrote about Emberleigh, right into her eyes, and hopefully straight to her heart.

“You’re sunlight through a screen door,

Barefoot dancing on the kitchen floor,

Laughin’ like I’m the reason for your smile.

Hopin’ you'll let me stay awhile.

’Cause I’m just a wishful dreamer,

Truck cab two-seat believer.

And you’re everything I can see for miles and miles.”

She smiles at me, never taking her eyes off mine. I strum a few chords and keep singing. She wipes just below her eyes and my voice hitches before the next line. We almost didn’t get here. But she took a risk and now she’s mine.

“Red hair blowing with the window down

Driving dirt roads on the outskirts of town

Not a care in the world, feet up on the dash,

I’m wonderin’ how to make this last.

Stealin’ glances I hope you won’t see,

All the men in the world, how would you pick me?

A million maybes, but one thing’s true ? —

You’re the one I wanna come home to.”

I smile at her between the chorus and the next verse, strumming my guitar, feeling like the luckiest guy on earth.

“ What if you just laugh and say you’re not my girl?

I’m a line in the dirt and you’re the whole wide world.

I’d kick myself forever if I let this feeling go ? —

Heart in hand, hopin’ you don’t say no.

Yeah, I’m throwing all my chips in on the table.

I’d give you the moon if I was able.

I’ll wait for you if that’s what you need.

’Cause we all know love’s not built for speed.”

I sing my way through the chorus again, repeating the last line three times, “ You’re the one I wanna come home to .”

The crowd erupts in cheers when I finish. I’m still sitting on the edge of the stage, my eyes locked on Emberleigh’s. She’s smiling softly. I lean over, place a kiss on her cheek and then I jump up, guitar in hand.

I walk to the mic and say, “Thank you for coming out. I really appreciate it. Get yourselves a serving of strawberry shortcake. Maybe I’ll come sing for you again sometime.”

People cheer and clap.

My crew acts up, hooting and whooping and screaming, “Encore! Encore!”

I step down and thank them for coming.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Cody says. “You’re as good as anyone in Nashville.”

“Thanks, man,” I say.

“And that song,” Patrick says. “It’s the stuff of romance novels.”

“Bookworm would know,” Greyson teases Patrick.

“Nothing wrong with a diverse taste in literature, Grey.”

Greyson shrugs. “Guess not.”

“If you men would excuse me,” I say.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cody jokes. “Go get your girl.”

I smile at him. Without me even saying a thing, he figured it out.

I make my way behind another table, aiming straight for Emberleigh.

A man approaches me before I get there. “Dustin?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Gavin West. I represent Front Porch Records.”

He extends his hand. I reach mine out and we shake.

“I love your sound. You’ve got a great presence with the audience. Have you done a lot of performing live?”

“Back home, in California, I had a regular gig. It wasn’t all that big. This size, sometimes bigger, depending if it was tourist season.”

I glance at Emberleigh. She’s watching me and Gavin.

“Well, I’d love to talk more with you, if you’re up for it.” Gavin hands me his card. “I’ll be back in Nashville the day after tomorrow. Call me if you want to have a coffee.”

“Okay. Yeah. Thanks.”

I tuck Gavin’s card into my pocket and walk over to the woman who has flipped my world upside down in the best of ways.

“Hey,” I say as I approach the table, my eyes so honed in on her I couldn’t identify any of her friends in a line-up.

“Hey,” she answers. “I like your song.”

“Your song,” I correct her.

“That’s adorable,” book club friend says. Maybe it’s book club friend. I barely glance at her and smile.

“I’m glad you like it,” I tell Emberleigh.

“I do, even though it’s country.” She smiles and her gaze has that slight note of challenge I love.

“I’ll convert you yet,” I tease.

“I think you already did,” she says, and I know she doesn’t mean to a genre of music.

A guy approaches us. “Dustin, can I get a photo of you with your girlfriend?” He turns to Emberleigh “Hey, Emberleigh. Do you mind if I get a pic for the paper?”

“No. I don’t mind.” She stands from her seat and I take her in from head to toe.

This dress is going to be the death of me. And that lipstick. Man.

She stands next to me and I wrap my arm around her back.

“Smile at the camera,” the guy says.

He takes a few shots, thanks us, and walks away.

I lean in and whisper into Emberleigh’s ear. “Are you trying to kill me?”

She turns her head and looks up at me with a question in her eyes. “No. Why?”

“Your dress. The way you look tonight. You’re not playing fair, Firecracker.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. She lowers her voice, places her flat palm on my chest and says, “That song, the way you smile at me, the way you always lean in and whisper into my ear … I’d say we’re finally on even ground.”

“Hardly,” I say. “Not even close.”