Our Kind of Love (Men of the Misfit Inn Book 2)
Page 17
Showtime.
Grabbing the borrowed guitar, Kyle took a breath and strode out on stage. At the sight of him, the crowd stirred. Yeah, there were people here who’d heard, who wondered. But plenty still cheered and applauded as he took his seat on the lone stool they’d set out for him.
“Good evenin’! I’m Kyle Keenan, and I’m delighted to be a part of Two Lane Records’ showcase tonight. But before I introduce you to my music, there are some things I need to say.”
He paused, still scanning faces, though the bright lights from the stage kept him from seeing more than vague impressions. “You probably think I’m a bit overdressed for tonight.” He’d made the call to keep on the tux, though he’d gotten rid of the tie. “The fact is, I was supposed to get married this afternoon.”
A surprised murmur swept through the venue.
“There are rumors flying around that I jilted my fiancée at the altar. The truth is, I was accosted by paparazzi while picking up my tux and her dress. It seems that my estranged mother gave an interview alleging... well, a whole boatload of things. People are questioning whether I’ve been lying all this time. About who I am. What I believe. The kind of man I am.”
He hated spilling this out. But he remembered what Abbey had said. That shame was like a shadow. It couldn’t exist in the light. It was time to stop hiding from the past.
“I’ve just been trying to live my life. Be a regular guy. I didn’t want people to know where I came from. What I came from. My parents are troubled people, and when I was thirteen, I turned them into the police for embezzlement and drug crimes.”
In the silence, Kyle could hear the hum of speakers. He absolutely had their attention, and it didn’t feel half as scary being the one to deliberately command it. Not when he was in control.
“I’m not getting into the details of that. The ensuing investigation thoroughly substantiated my accusation, and they both went to prison. I went into foster care. And it was one of the best things to ever happen to me. I got a huge supportive family out of the deal—one I thought I had to distance myself from in order to keep the rest hidden. I’d like to publicly apologize to all of them for that. My brothers and sisters are some of the best people I know, and I’ve missed the hell out of all of you.”
He paused again, gaze sweeping the crowd. But he wasn’t really seeing them anymore. He just wanted to take the moment to measure their temperature, give them a second to absorb his words. This was a statement, not an apology, and they’d better get used to it.
“I’m done hiding. I’m done letting the shame of where I came from be the driving force behind my actions. The woman I love has been calling me on that for twenty-five years, and it’s long past time for me to acknowledge she’s right. I’m not my parents. Their mistakes aren’t mine. God knows, I’ve made plenty of my own. But stopping them from hurting some of the kindest, most hard-working people I’ve ever known wasn’t one of them. So, if all of this means you can no longer think of me as county music’s Captain America, that’s fine. I’m just Kyle Keenan. The guy who really hopes he hasn’t blown it with the most important person in his life.”
He shifted the guitar, fingers slipping into place. “This song was one we wrote together years ago, and I only wish she was here tonight to hear it.”
Without giving the audience a moment to react, he began to pick out a melody that had lived in his heart for as long as he could remember.
As the first notes of the song rang out, Abbey resumed her fight to get to the stage. She could’ve taken advantage of the absolute silence while Kyle had been talking, but she didn’t want to do anything to distract from or minimize the impact of what he’d said. He’d taken control, taken a stand, removing his mom’s leverage once and for all. Abbey had never been prouder.
She needed to get to him, but here were so many people in her way, and she kept turning back to check on Granddaddy.
He squeezed her elbow. “Go get him, Butter Bean. I’m fine.”
“We’ve got him,” Emerson promised, linking her arm through his. Fiona took the other.
“C’mon. I’ll get you up there.” Caleb used his broader bulk to clear a path toward the side stage.
Abbey stayed close in his wake as Kyle continued to sing.
They weren’t moving fast enough. She wasn’t going to make it before he finished.
But then something miraculous happened. People in the crowd began to actually see her. Some recognized her and stepped aside, making room for her to pass. Who ever would have imagined she’d be glad her face had been splashed in gossip magazines and on TV?
A pair of burly guys in black T-shirts blocked access to the backstage area. Venue security.
“Look, I have to get back there. I’m his fiancée.”
“Sure you are, sweet cheeks.”
She’d made it too damned far and was too damned close to let a couple of over-grown Neanderthals stop her from getting to Kyle. But before she could do something that would make a scene, Griff appeared at their backs.
“Thank Christ. She’s with us. Come on.” He tugged her past the guys and up the stairs. “He’s been going out of his mind.”
“Same. I need a mic.”
“You what?”
“I need a mic. Right now.”
Deanna fell into step beside them, her brows drawn together. “What are you doing? I thought you don’t perform.”
She could see Kyle out on that stage, just a couple dozen feet away, and her heart lifted. “I don’t. Get me a mic before I lose my nerve.”
Somebody put one in her hand and turned it on. Abbey didn’t stop to think, didn’t look around, didn’t take her eyes off the best friend she was never walking away from again. She began to sing, adding in the harmony as he reached the second chorus. Kyle’s head whipped up from his guitar in shock, though he didn’t skip a beat. When she strode on stage to join him, it was easier than she’d imagined because, with all the lights, all she could see was him.
Shock and joy spread over his face as he spotted her. And it was worth the noodle knees and pterodactyls swooping in her stomach to be here, surprising him like this. She met him center stage, keeping her focus entirely on him, as his was now on her.
When the last notes died away, they stood there, breathing hard, staring at each other. Kyle finally set the guitar aside and closed the distance between them. His eyes were suspiciously shiny as he cupped her cheeks. “You sang.”
“Just to you.”
Then he kissed her, and the crowd lost its collective mind. All of it faded as she wrapped around him. Relief and love crashed through her. They’d been derailed but not broken. They’d made it back to each other, and in the end, nothing else mattered.
He eased back, pressing his brow to hers. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
The cheering and whooping finally sank in, and Abbey actually looked at the audience. The stage did a slow dip.
Kyle locked his arm tighter around her. “Nope. No passing out now. You already did the hard part.”
She still couldn’t quite believe she’d done it. Now that it was over, she really, really needed to get away from all these people before she embarrassed herself further by passing out or hurling. Lifting the mic, she addressed the crowd. “I’m sorry, y’all. You’re going to have to excuse us. My groom here has a prior engagement, and he’s really, really late.”
Beneath the renewed cheering and laughter, Kyle murmured, “We’re still doing that?”
“Damned straight.” As he escorted her off-stage, she said, “Although we seem to be snake-bit when it comes to eloping, so maybe we should do something radical this time and actually plan a wedding. Preacher. Family. The whole shebang.”
Kyle brought her hand to his lips. “There’s nothing I’d love more.”
Epilogue
“Hold still,” Pru ordered.
Kyle resisted the urge to tell her he could tie his own bowtie. This was part of having family invol
ved in his big day, and he was grateful they were all here.
“There.” She smoothed her hands across his shoulders and down the sleeves of his jacket, brushing away imaginary lint. “You clean up pretty well.”
“Thanks.”
“You nervous?”
“To marry my best friend? No. Easiest thing I’ve ever done. Worried she’ll wake up one day and realize she made a mistake? I’ll probably always have a little of that.”
“She loves you. Always has, even during those years you were both being stupid.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever truly feel worthy of that. But I intend to spend the rest of my life making sure she doesn’t regret it.”
“There are worse approaches to marriage.” She fastened on his apple blossom boutonniere. “Will y’all stick around here?”
Kyle curled his hands around her shoulders. “To answer the question you really want to know and are too polite to ask, I’m not taking Abbey away from the spa or the Ridge. She loves it here, and I’m able to write here in a way I haven’t been able to in years. I’m sure she’ll travel with me some when I do tour, but Harry wants his artists to have lives and families, so they won’t be what I had to do before.” He’d basically offered Kyle his dream career on a platter. “All that to say, I’m home, sis.”
Pru sniffed, her dark eyes shining. “Good. That’s good. Where will you live?”
Kyle glanced around the room that no longer bore any resemblance to the childhood bedroom he’d spent as little time in as possible. “Here. For now, anyway. Abbey and I want to be close to Granddaddy. Beyond that, if we want, Mark and Faye have no problem with us adding on for more space.” He’d initially rejected the idea of that, but he loved the orchards, and a part of him relished the thought of taking the last shadow of his childhood and reclaiming it in the name of their future. He’d talk to Porter after the wedding and the honeymoon and see what he could draw up.
“Taking control of the last piece. Mom would be proud.”
Kyle thought of the woman who, other than Abbey, had given him back the biggest pieces of himself. “I wish Joan could have been here today.”
Pru smiled. “She is, if only in all of us.”
The idea was a comfort.
“We should get out there. Guests are arriving, and the ceremony starts soon.”
Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Abbey slipped inside.
Pru leapt in front of him, arms stretched wide, as if her five-foot-something frame would hide him. “What are you doing here! You can’t see the groom before the wedding!”
“I’m not in my dress yet, and we’re not the superstitious type. I need to talk to Kyle.”
Did Pru hear that note of nerves beneath the easy bravado? If she did, she didn’t comment as she vacated the room.
“Fine, but the ceremony is in T-minus less than half an hour. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kyle promised.
Then they were alone, and his bride to be bit her berry-glossed lip. Because he knew she had a little trauma where trying to marry him was concerned, Kyle crossed over and took her hands. “Needed to make sure I was here?”
“Maybe partly. Although if you did want to bolt, I think you’d have to get past a hundred or so people to pull it off.”
“Not going anywhere without my bride.” He stroked his thumbs over the pulse points in her wrists. “What’s wrong, Abs?”
Her hair was swept up, her makeup perfect. She was ready but for the fact that she wore a silky white robe declaring her “The Bride.” But something was very clearly off. “I needed to ask you something.”
“Okay.” He’d say or do whatever she needed to be reassured.
“What are you doing in seven months?”
Kyle frowned as he did mental math. “At Christmas? I expect I’ll be right here with you enjoying my first family Christmas in a decade.”
“We haven’t talked about that. The whole family thing. Like whether we want one.”
“Is that what you’re worried about? That I don’t want kids?”
“I mean, it’s kind of a big thing couples should be on the same page about.”
“I love the idea of having children with you. Of Christmas mornings when we get up way too early after going to bed way too late because we were up putting together whatever ridiculous toys we bought. Of all those everyday things people take for granted. I want to make the family I didn’t have growing up.”
“Then you won’t mind if we get started on that early?”
Kyle tightened his hands on hers. “You want to start trying for a baby at Christmas?”
“Yeah, about that.” Abbey swallowed. “We kinda jumped right over the trying part.”
His brain simply ceased firing, and he could only stare. “You’re... We’re... How?”
“Remember that night we got engaged out in the orchard? We sort of skipped a step.”
His mind helpfully replayed the sight of her, naked and gorgeous, sinking down onto him without a single thought to a condom. He went hard in an instant as his body made a bid for a repeat. But that wasn’t why she was here, looking at him with big, worried eyes.
“We’re having a baby? For Christmas?”
“It seems we are.”
Kyle thought he might burst with joy. “Best Christmas present ever!”
One golden brow winged up. “Not a wedding present?”
“You’re my wedding present. There’s nothing better than that.” He pulled her close, intending to kiss her, but stopped. “I have a feeling if I muss you up, someone’s going to have my head.”
Her mouth curved in a saucy grin. “Then I guess we need to finish this wedding business so we can get to the mussing portion of the program.”
At the heated look in her eyes, he stepped back. “Get on out of here before I give in to temptation.”
“I do hope you will give in to all the temptations. Later.” She backed toward the door and blew him a kiss. “See you at the end of the aisle.”
As soon as she slipped out, he sank down onto the bed and exhaled a slow breath.
A baby. He was gonna be a father. Holy shit.
Running both hands through his hair, he waited for the news to really sink in. But it was too big, too good to fully absorb.
The door opened again, and Caleb stepped in. “It’s time.”
Kyle stood, firming up knees that felt a little like Jell-O. “Let’s do this.”
Caleb eyed him. “You okay, man?”
Kyle clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Brother, I am fucking perfect. Absolutely nothing could make this day any better.”
But as he stood at the head of the long aisle that ran through the east orchard, beneath the fragrant blooming apple trees, and watched the woman he loved walk toward him in the dress he’d bought her, to a song he’d written her, on her grandfather’s arm, he spotted the plastic ring on a chain around her throat and knew he’d been wrong. That was the absolute cherry on top. And as they finally executed that long-ago marriage pact and faced their guests as man and wife, he knew their adventure was just beginning.
Choose Your Next Romance
Next up in the Men of the Misfit Inn series is Wyatt Sullivan. If you’re a fan of Fixer Upper or HGTV in general, you’re gonna love this book.
After a lifetime spent trying to prove he's not a screw up, contractor Wyatt Sullivan is ready to take his YouTube channel, DIWyatt, to the big time. But he needs more than the one-man flips that built his reputation. He needs something truly big to impress network execs enough to give him his own home improvement show.
After a messy, ugly divorce, publicist Deanna James can't afford another mistake. So when she wakes up from a night of too much wine to find out she's bought a historic monstrosity of a house in an online auction, she panics. If she’s going to sell it and not lose her shirt to her ex-husband, she’s going to need some serious help. But how will she afford
it?
Wyatt's just the guy to ride to her rescue. He'll take on the job if she'll let him film the process. Deanna sweetens the deal with the added bonus of using her PR skills to raise the profile of DIWyatt enough to impress the suits. There's just one problem: They both have to move in.
As they battle home improvement hell and rising attraction, can they keep from giving the viewers more of a show than they ever intended?
You can preorder your copy of Don’t You Wanna Stay today! It releases August 27th.
While you’re waiting, have you explored the Rescue My Heart series? This trilogy follows three former Army Rangers navigating their post-military lives and finding love long the way. It’s set in Eden’s Ridge, so there are plenty of cameos from our Misfit Inn favorites, as well as Kyle’s publicist Deanna, who’s a friend of Ivy Blake in Baby It’s Cold Outside. Keep turning the pages for a sneak peek.
Bonus Epilogue Let It Be Me
“Marriage and fatherhood look good on you.”
Caleb grinned at Kennedy and automatically dropped a kiss to the downy black fuzz of his infant son’s head where it emerged from the baby sling. “I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy. There’s a part of me that keeps expecting to wake up from a dream to find I’m still next door. Still waiting for my shot.”
Porter slapped his shoulder. “Got the girl and the family in one fell swoop. You’re living it now.”
Kennedy extracted her hair from Caroline’s chubby grip. “Just you wait, little brother. Pretty soon you’ll be waking up at all hours, wondering why the heck he won’t sleep, and you’ll be firmly aware of the reality you’re living in.”
“Oh, you never know. Micah might be a better sleeper,” Pru put in. “Bailey wasn’t bad so long as we kept her awake enough to really fill up on a feeding.”
Flynn’s laugh rang out. “Oh, darlin’, I do believe you’ve got some revisionist memory clouding that lovely head of yours. There were at least six months we didn’t get more than a couple hours of sleep at a time.”