Mac’s Daring Heart: Sweethearts of Country Music, Book 6

by Layne, Sandi

  And over the crowd? Music.

  There were three bands scheduled during that afternoon, with a local DJ spinning during the off times. Derek used the printed schedule they’d acquired to fan his face as they maneuvered about the festival.

  “Might be the beer,” Micah opined, gesturing to a cluster of micro-brewery displays.

  “Or the funnel cakes!” Bethany added, shifting as she leaned on Micah’s arm.

  Derek felt his stomach growl. “Either of you want anything? I’m hungry.” He checked his watch. “I don’t think Mac’s gonna want to eat before their performance, but it might be good to have something for her for after.”

  “She’s gonna be a bit charged and then she’ll kind of collapse, I’m thinking,” Micah said. “You’ve talked to her after a show, right?”

  “Yeah. Maybe a sandwich or something. And water. She likes her water.”

  Micah laughed. “Ice cream. We need to get ice cream.”

  Bethany rolled up on her feet. “I see some over there!” She pointed and they all followed the line she indicated to see a plastic sign that showed a cartoon cow making ice cream in one of those old-fashioned, hand-cranked ice cream makers. “I don’t know if they’ve got chocolate chip, Mike, but they probably have the three major flavors.”

  “Mocha, Peanut Butter, and Elderberry Sorbet?” Micah teased. Derek could see that the remark was likely part of an inside joke between the two of them and he smiled a little wistfully. Even though she was quite nearby, he felt as if Mira Cunningham were miles away.

  He could almost hear her murmur, Cue the aww . . .

  “Maybe we could buy some ice cream and stash it someplace,” Derek said, thinking out loud. “Maybe call Val again and ask for the use of her freezer?”

  It was worth a try, but he had to make sure Mac wasn’t going to know what was going on, so . . . “I’ll text Mac, you call Val.”

  Derek: Hey, you up?

  Mac: Oh, hey! Didn’t expect to see your name on my phone. Yeah, I’m up. There’s a line for the shower. lol

  Mike indicated that he had Val on the phone, so to keep Mac busy. He kept rolling his hand and his eyes—so like his twin’s—gleamed with mischief. So Derek did his best.

  Derek: I bet it’s like prom or something at your school?

  Mac: It really is. But I don’t have to do a manicure, so that’s something. And no roadies to polish my boots.

  Derek: What are you wearing, tonight?

  Mac: Blue jeans, cranberry tank top, brown boots. You wouldn’t believe how hot it is here.

  Micah held up his phone and nodded with a thumbs-up sign and Derek took that to mean he could stop distracting Mac.

  Derek: You can tell me all about it later. It won’t affect the show, will it?

  Mac: We’re good, but thanks for asking! :-) I’m going to go see if I can find something to drink.

  Derek: Well, I’ll let you get to that. Talk to you later.

  Mac: It won’t be too late?

  Derek: Never.

  He had to smile as he typed that last and she signed off. No, it’d never be too late or too early to talk with her.

  “We have a plan!” Micah announced with all the ceremony of a late-night talk show host.

  Bethany nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  * * *

  The DJ was finishing up his set as Derek slid between two security guards. He held his pass up and the first guard—a man with a tattoo of a fishhook on his forehead—asked him to stop a moment. “Who’re you here to see? We don’t want any problems.”

  Derek nodded quickly. “I appreciate that. Here to surprise my girlfriend, the bassist for Lipstick Outlaws.”

  The man’s whole expression shifted. “She’s got a boyfriend? She never said a boyfriend was coming.”

  Beckoning to Micah, who looked enough like Mac to be readily identifiable, Derek blew out a breath. “It’s kind of a new thing, really. Her twin brother is here, though. Micah?”

  The guard peered into Micah’s guileless eyes. “Ah. Yeah. Twin, you said?”

  “Yep,” Mike tossed his head like Mac did on occasion when she got hair in her face. “Can’t you tell?” he asked in a falsetto tone that sounded nothing like his sister.

  The guard laughed anyway. “Right, then.”

  “It’s a surprise,” Micah said, whispering dramatically.

  Bethany stepped between Micah and Derek and grinned. “No telling, okay?”

  The man nodded and smiled expansively. “My lips are sealed.”

  Val—wearing a Lipstick Outlaws t-shirt, faded jeans, and cowboy boots—darted from somewhere, her iPad in one hand, phone in her pocket, and a pen in her other hand. “Derek! Micah! Good! Okay make it fast, the last band is winding down and we have to go out.” She shooed them along, behind a sound engineer, a girl with a clipboard, a teenager who was dodging someone carrying a box of wires, and then Taylor, who played a spirited piano as well as singing and writing, Derek knew.

  “I probably do the least of any of us,” Mac had confided to him one night as they spoke when she was on the road. “I don’t write lyrics, I can’t sing like a soloist, and I sure don’t compose music.”

  “Hey, no! You came up with that little bit of a song at the table that one day, remember? I know I do. It was . . . good, hon. Moving and honest and open.”

  She had chuckled. “That wasn’t for public consumption. That was private!”

  “It was still great. Don’t sell yourself short, hey?”

  “Oh, I’m not. I just know what I can and can’t do. It’s all right.”

  With a finger to his lips to ask Taylor to keep the secret, Derek slid past her and looked for the long, two-toned hair of his favorite girl. As Val arrived, the ladies all came together in a circle, joined hands, and bowed their heads. Mac had mentioned, once, that they all said a quick prayer before a performance, but he hadn’t seen them do it, naturally. It only took a couple of minutes before they nodded in unison and lifted their heads to look around for the next thing they had to do, presumably.

  Cecilia DeVera saw Derek first and a smile burst on her face which likely had nothing to do with the conversation she had begun with Mac, because Mac spun around immediately, a question etched firmly into her features.

  “Derek!” The sheer ebullience of her surprise filled his whole body as Mac literally bounced, coming off the floor as she called his name.

  He kept his feet firmly on the ground. “Hey, hon.”

  Micah and Bethany held back a moment, which Derek appreciated, as Mac did something entirely unexpected: she ran to him, surrounding him in a full hug that he couldn’t help but return, audience or no audience. Something in him relaxed a bit, too, having her in his arms. A tension he hadn’t thoroughly acknowledged before eased. “Hey,” he murmured into her hair.

  “Hey. I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re up, now?”

  He laughed and so did she before he moved to cup her face in his hand while keeping his other arm around her. “Nope. Surprised?”

  “Well, yeah!”

  “He’s not your only surprise!” Micah stepped forward, Bethany’s hand in his, and Mac beamed brilliantly. “You’re all here!” She leaned close and asked, “You okay with all the people, Micah?”

  Bethany laughed a little. “I’ve got hand sanitizer in my purse.”

  “You, girl, are perfect,” Mac declared with a determined nod.

  “All right, y’all. Time to get your backsides out there!” Val half-shouted. At once, the general buzz of people silenced and then there was motion. Purposeful motion.

  Derek took a second to lean in to kiss Mac, but she turned her head so that his lips brushed her cheek. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Makeup! Did you even notice my lipstick?”

  “Oh, I saw those lips, honey. I’ll catch ‘em later.”

  “You better!”

  The girls gathered, paused, exchanged quick looks and then stepped beyond the realm of behind the scenes to under the spotlight
. “And here they are, headlining here at the Misses-Sip, the Lipstick Outlaws!” Applause filled the air and Micah grinned to hear it. Derek smiled as well, remembering the first time he’d seen the Lipstick Outlaws in Colorado, months before.

  “Does it ever get old?” he asked Mac’s brother.

  He was still scanning the air, as if he could see the sound generated by the audience before Katie Lyn, their lead singer, shouted out, “Hello, Mississippi! So honored to be headlining for the first ever Misses-Sip! Y’all likin’ the ladies of country, today?”

  Shouts of “You bet!” and “Oh, yeah!” and “Go, girls!” resounded over the area.

  Derek nodded to himself and drew in a deep breath before moving to where he could see the ladies perform from the sidelines. Micah and Bethany were right alongside him, their passes on lanyards around their necks. Derek retrieved his from a pocket and did likewise. The crew behind stage all had badges of office hanging about their necks, but many of them, too, were crowding to hear the festival’s headliners.

  The band was just starting, and Derek supposed his focus on the bass player was understandable. She and the drummer, Cecilia, had their own rhythm and way of playing together. He saw the subtle shifts of body language and eye contact. Even the way Mac slid into the song, with her bass line running steady on with the drummer’s percussion, was clearly a practiced duet in the midst of a group performance.

  They started off with what he knew was one of their more popular tracks from their album: My Girls. It was definitely a girl-power song and perfect to get the crowd going. Mac even cracked a smile when she looked at the audience. There was dancing in front of the stage and everything.

  Bethany was clapping along with the audience. “They are so good! Micah, we should go to more of their shows!”

  Laughing, Micah wrapped one arm around his girlfriend. “We will. They’ll be in Nashville next week at the festival.”

  When the number was over, the band slid into another song, a slower one, but one that resonated with the listeners as they stopped dancing and began fanning themselves off in the humid Mississippi twilight. Mac looked amazing. Her body seemed to curl around her guitar, but her legs—lean and incredibly sexy in the thigh-high boots over the jeans—stood strong and balanced. She owned that piece of the world under her and she stood there like she wanted everyone to know it. But still, she was the bassist. The lady who kept the momentum, along with Cecilia. The music moved because they gave it a firm foundation on which to share the emotions of the song, the drive they all had to succeed in this, their chosen way of life.

  It rocked him, as he watched Mac and all the others. Rocked him hard, all the way down to his shoes. “She’s amazing.”

  Her brother heard him. “I know. Wish the folks could see this, but they just really want to pretend she’s going through a phase.”

  “This?”

  “She’s always been scary with music,” Micah told him as the performers paused to do the Introduction Segment. “She took to the violin like it was, I don’t know, building blocks or something. When we were still tiny. She makes it look easy, you know? When she told me she was going to play bass guitar, I didn’t want to believe it, but you know—ya gotta know—I totally supported her.”

  Derek smiled approvingly at the other man. “I know. She relies on you.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Yeah, man. Even if she hates that you call her Bambi.”

  “And on bass, Mac Cunningham!” Katie Lyn’s clear voice saying Mac’s name captured both the men’s attention as the audience clapped politely. “Nashville native, the lady loves her boots!”

  “So do we!” someone called from the crowd. Everyone laughed and Derek joined them when Mac waved off the applause for that.

  “Mac told me she’d never been to Mississippi before, but I’m sure she’s enjoying it as much as I am. Y’all are a great crowd!”

  It was apparently a cue, as Mac moved, sliding her iPhone from her pocket. “Who wants to be on Instagram?” she called out.

  Cheers met that and Mac snapped quite a few before turning and tossing the phone to Val who had stepped out on the stage for just such a performance. “She did this last time, too,” Micah told Derek. “At the Wild Horse in Nashville.”

  “Sounds like it went over well.”

  The introductions were finished without further delays and the ladies slid into what was becoming a very popular song, Black Pony. Some of the audience took up singing the chorus with the band, and Derek wondered how it felt for the Outlaws to hear their music sung back to them.

  Later, after their time was done and the festival organizers had thanked everyone for coming and so on, they shared some vanilla and chocolate ice cream with Micah and Bethany. “This is so perfect,” Mac said, licking at her spoon and making a lot of happy sounds that he found quite endearing. “We really gotta do this again.”

  “Your brother promised to try for a double date with y’all,” Beth said, and Mike held up a hand in capitulation even as he and Mac pretended to duel over the last lump of melting chocolate ice cream.

  After a quick discussion, Derek walked Mac back to their bus, keeping their strides slow to spend more time together. “You were fantastic, Mira-Mira. You and all the rest.”

  She sighed and leaned into him as he had his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you. We tried. I think it was a good show.”

  “Oh, the audience loved it. So did I.” He stopped just short of a pool of light from the bus and pulled her fully into his arms. “I think I promised to catch your lips later.”

  “Is it later, yet?”

  “Think so, yeah.”

  “Oh, good,” she murmured as she slid her arms up his and turned her face to welcome his kiss. She was warm and soft in all the right places as he held her, her enthusiasm making him smile inwardly even as he moved to bury his head in her hair. She sighed again. “I do like it when a man keeps his promises.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am.”

  “You do that.”

  He saw her to the door of the bus and then turned to go, knowing that Micah and Bethany would be waiting. They had a plane to catch, but the band was on the road for another day or two before coming home. He hoped Mac would have the chance to come see him at work, too.

  Maybe they’d even have a little music.

  INTERLUDE VIII

  Mac & Derek

  Mac: Hey, you up?

  Derek: Yeah. Barely. Caught a flight home.

  Mac: You know, I haven’t seen your place.

  Derek: Well . . . we’ll have to make that happen.

  Mac: Great! And I want to see where you work. Because you’ve seen where I work.

  Derek: You’re in Louisiana, now, right?

  Mac: Yep. Baton Rouge. We hit the road last night. Props to our driver, Danny. You remember hearing about him?

  Derek: Married, can bench press a tank?

  Mac: LOL That’s the one. He’s a machine.

  Derek: Well, he takes good care of y’all, so he’s OK in my book.

  * * *

  Derek & Blake

  Blake: Good morning! I know it’s a holiday weekend, but I wondered if you were available for reviewing a spreadsheet for me for the Arizona matter.

  Derek: Dad! I’m exhausted. Caught a red eye in from Mississippi last night and it’s Sunday and I haven’t even had coffee, yet.

  Blake: Fine, fine. Coming to the BBQ tomorrow?

  Derek: Yes, Dad. My calendar reminds me every year.

  Blake: Your girlfriend is invited, you know. We want to meet her.

  9

  “What’re you taking a picture of this morning, Mac?” Little Madison was an endlessly curious child, one who had adapted well to life on a tour bus with a bunch of instant-aunties. Mac was standing barefoot on one of the benches around the shiny dining table in the rear section of the bus, her legs spread for balance. “Can I be in the picture?”

  “No, sweets, not this one. This one is
going on our Twitter feed and you are most definitely not appearing in public until you’re at least thirty.” Mac snapped an angular shot of the long row of bunks with instruments peeking out or propped up against a bed and someone’s foot—likely Taylor’s—dangling over one edge.

  “Thirty! But that’s o-o-o-o-ld,” the girl protested, finding a huge pout from her preschool inventory of facial expressions.

  Mac lowered her phone and eyed the girl, bracing herself against the ceiling of the bus with her free hand. “How about I take a special picture of you, show it to you on my phone, and if you like it, I’ll send it to your mama so she can have it, okay?”

  Madison brightened, her blue eyes sparkling even as she adjusted her blond curls in an imitation of just about everyone in Lipstick Outlaws before they gave a performance. “Yes, please, Mac!”

  Mac had the girl choose a favorite pose and asked, “Do you want to hold an instrument?”

  “Nope! Just me!”

  “All right, then.” Mac did the whole magazine-layout routine, taking pictures of the girl from one angle and another. In the end, Madison chose a classic chin in hands pose and Mac deleted all the rest of them from her phone before sending the chosen one to Katie Lyn. “There. Now, I’ve gotta get on Twitter and then get ready for the show.”

  “Thank you!” Madison bounced off, presumably in search of her mom, and Mac settled back on the bench, heading straight for her Twitter app.

  “You’re really good with her.” Val came down from the front section of the bus, a smile on her face. “D’you have a lot of experience with kids?”

  Looking up from her phone, Mac shook her head. “Nah. I just do like they always said in Sunday School. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” She flashed their manager a quick smile before finishing her post. “How’s this sound: Lipstick Life in Louisiana. My guitar gets out more than I do! #Lipstick Outlaws, #tour bus.”

  “Also, hashtag the festival,” Val advised. “And shout out with an @ to them if they have an account.”