She looked at Ella, who was next to Jimmy helping him with garbage. Between Matt and Sydney’s men, they were able to call in some favors and prevent Ella from actually serving prison time. Ella was working on her community service hours and was signed up to take some college courses in the fall. Ella would get another chance after all, and she owed her new family here in Pearl.
Sydney eased back and watched her men sitting nearby and talking. Atlas took a seat next to her, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asked, just like they all did every day more often than not. None of them had been the same since that day she was abducted and wound up beaten and shot. Even she was suffering with some nightmares that her men had described as post-traumatic stress syndrome. Each of them as soldiers could relate to the disorder, and they gave her lots of pointers to help overcome it. She hugged Atlas’s arm, knowing that the best medicine was being in her men’s arms where she was safe and secure with her resourceful, sexy, loving American soldiers.
“I feel perfect. Everything is great and everyone is having fun.,” she said.
Hart came closer, carrying his guitar and strumming the strings.
“Not perfect yet, but do you know what you can do to make it perfect?” he asked.
She sat up and looked at him strangely. Was something wrong? Had she missed an argument, an upsetting comment?
“What?” she asked.
Hart looked at his brothers and then back to Syd.
“Sing me a song, Syd.”
She smiled softly, and the tears filled her eyes. For the past two weeks she hadn’t sung a tune. It had been difficult to do and to find that joy inside that fire she always had. It was also part of the PTSD, it gave her fears of things she hadn’t had before. Minor, but enough for her to notice it and her men to notice, too.
“Okay, Hart, what would you like me to sing?”
“Amazed” by Lonestar. Because if I could sing, that’s the song I’d sing to you.”
Sydney licked her lips and looked at her men. She would do anything for them because she loved them so. As Hart began to play the tune, Matt joined in with his guitar and then their friends, too. They all gathered around as Sydney sang, letting all her emotions show and feeling not only her love of singing but also her love of family. This was her new, untraditional, and yet totally awesome family. And of course her gorgeous, sexy American soldiers of Pearl.
Life didn’t get any better than this. Love was a very powerful thing indeed.
THE END
WWW.DIXIELYNNDWYER.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
People seem to be more interested in my name than where I get my ideas for my stories from. So I might as well share the story behind my name with all my readers.
My momma was born and raised in New Orleans. At the age of twenty, she met and fell in love with an Irishman named Patrick Riley Dwyer. Needless to say, the family was a bit taken aback by this as they hoped she would marry a family friend. It was a modern day arranged marriage kind of thing and my momma downright refused.
Being that my momma’s families were descendents of the original English speaking Southerners, they wanted the family blood line to stay pure. They were wealthy and my father’s family was poor.
Despite attempts by my grandpapa to make Patrick leave and destroy the love between them, my parents married. They recently celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary.
I am one of six children born to Patrick and Lynn Dwyer. I am a combination of both Irish and a true Southern belle. With a name like Dixie Lynn Dwyer it’s no wonder why people are curious about my name.
Just as my parents had a love story of their own, I grew up intrigued by the lifestyles of others. My imagination as well as my need to stray from the straight and narrow made me into the woman I am today.
For all titles by Dixie Lynn Dwyer, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/dixie-lynn-dwyer
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Sing Me a Song Page 23
