She was circling her hand as her eyes widened.
Dead air. He smirked. She was more relaxed this morning, but not that relaxed.
“Good morning, Avery,” he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. He guessed the listeners wouldn’t notice, but she did. “Storyhill did, in fact, have a practice this weekend. We normally don’t have three weeks off between tour dates, so it’s important to run through the songs and touch base with each other at least once a week.”
Avery jumped back in. Their give and take smooth and easy now. “This tour will be all about your new record. What should your fans expect?”
“If the audience at the Ryman was any indication, I think people will enjoy it. It’s a mix of traditional country, a couple more upbeat tunes, and of course, a few love songs.”
Avery laughed. “That is what Grace O’Connor is known for, right?”
He sucked in a big breath. Here goes nothing. “Indeed. In fact, Grace and I co-wrote a song recently.” Recently meaning last night—after some serious begging on his part.
“Really?” Her eyes widened. “How is it that you’ve been here for three weeks and we’re just learning this?”
Shit. He hadn’t anticipated that question. Think, Mattie. “I wasn’t entirely sure it was ready. Grace convinced me to let the guys perform it—take it for a test drive—at a few tour stops.” Another deep breath. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to hyperventilate. “If you’re amenable, I brought it along”—he waved a thumb drive in the air— “and would love to play it, for the first time, for your listeners.”
Her eyebrows rose. He knew she didn’t like surprises, but he was hoping she’d make an exception.
“Well, you know I love exclusive reveals.” Emotion passed over her face. She didn’t seem mad, but her shoulders were tight.
“Baby steps,” he mouthed to her. She rolled her eyes and circled her hands, giving him permission to move forward.
“Great,” he said. “Ajay, anything special I need to do?”
“Easy as pie, mate. Slide it into the USB drive on your left and I’ll bring it up.”
He did as told, and his earphones filled with the opening notes.
Her head tipped to the side. “This isn’t a cappella.”
“It’s not. It’s just me on vocals and Grace on the piano. It’s an acoustic version of something I wrote several years ago. Grace helped with the music.”
His voice started and Amy-Lynn pulled her second headphone over her ear with a snap.
Here I am, thinking of you
Why did you leave, I wish I knew
We fell in love so long ago
It feels like my heart always belonged to you
I wish I could hear your voice, take your hand
Why did you leave, help me understand
You know we’re meant to be
It should be us against the world, you and me
If I could turn back the clock, I’d make you see
That your heart belongs with me
Come back, let’s give it another try
All I’m asking is, please don’t let the music die
He watched as realization dawned on her face and color bloomed across her chest and up her neck. At first, he thought he triggered a panic attack and then he realized she was trying with all her might to hold back tears.
The song faded just as the first tear rolled down her cheek.
He didn’t have to tell her the song was for her. She knew. But did she know what it meant?
He paused for only a second. She was an immensely private person, but something inside told him he had to do this on air.
He opened his mic and collected himself.
He held her gaze and spoke directly to her. So what if thousands of people were also listening? “That song was a little different from typical Storyhill stuff. When we take it on the road, we have an arrangement that will feature all the guys. I want to say a big thank you to Grace O’Connor who stayed up until the wee hours of the morning putting notes to my words.”
Surprise crossed her face, but he continued.
His stomach flipped, but he continued. “If you listened to my interview with Grace O’Connor, you know Avery and I met long before she interviewed me two weeks ago. We met when we were sixteen years old in a tiny town in Oklahoma. What I didn’t say in that interview was that it took me less than three minutes to fall hopelessly in love with her.”
A few more tears fell, but she didn’t take her eyes off him, and she didn’t stop him.
“And I’ve been hopelessly in love with her ever since. We took different paths after college, and it took fate to bring us back together. It’s like the universe knew the only way we could heal old wounds was to force us to sit across from each other for three weeks.
“Avery, you had the courage to tell me how you felt and ask for forgiveness, and my response was to give you a sandwich.”
A laugh gurgled out of her chest, thick with emotion.
“But I’m here now, and I want you to know that I’m betting on love. Betting that our love is stronger than any mistakes we’ve made. Let’s not let the music die. What do you say?”
Avery opened her mouth, and nothing came out.
“Christ, love,” Ajay said from the booth, “how can you say no to that? I’ve already gotten seventy-three emails saying that if you don’t want him, any number of listeners would be more than happy to make music with him.”
“Avery?” Matt said.
“Yes. I say yes! I love you too, Matt Taylor.”
“And with that,” Ajay interjected, “we are going to commercial and then some music. I think our host needs a moment to collect herself.”
Avery slid her headphones around her neck. “Do you mean it? Do you forgive me?”
Matt stood and walked to her side of the console, crouching down beside her. “I do. After you left yesterday, after berating myself for the sandwich thing, Grace said something that finally made everything clear.”
“What did she say?”
“That if your heart tells you she’s the one, there are very few things you can’t work out. And my heart has always known you are the one. But no more secrets, okay?”
She placed her hand on his cheek, and he leaned into it. “No more secrets. I promise.”
He leaned in to kiss her as Celeste burst into the studio.
“You two are ratings gold!”
“That’s not what this was about, Celeste,” Matt said, without taking his eyes off Avery.
“I know, but if you think I’m not going to capitalize on this, you are so wrong.” She waived a piece of paper in front of Matt’s face. It had three lines of typed text.
“What’s that?” Matt asked.
“It’s a very crude extension of your contract.”
He finally turned and looked at Celeste. “But I leave for tour in three days.”
“I want you to call in from the road. We can’t lose this momentum. What do you think?”
“It’s not my choice,” he told Celeste. “This is the Avery Lind show. It’s her choice. What do you say, Mac?”
Avery smiled softly. “A chance to spend every morning with Matt Taylor, whether here or away? I’m all in.”
“Partners?” Matt held his hand out to her.
“Forever,” she said and kissed him, “in every way.”
“We’re in, Celeste,” Matt said, not letting her hand drop.
Celeste clapped her hands. “Magic!”
They laughed. “She’s been telling us that from the beginning. Maybe we should have listened,” Avery said.
Matt dipped his head, touching his forehead to hers. “I think there is only one thing left to do.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“We need to send Addison May the biggest fruit basket we can find—or maybe a puppy.”
Avery laughed. “I love you, Matt Taylor.”
“I love you too, Amy-Lynn Avery Mac Lind McWilliams.”
<
br /> BONUS EPILOGUE
Thank you for reading ‘Don’t Let the Music Die.’
Want to find out what happens next for Matt and Avery?
CLICK HERE to sign up to my newsletter and claim your free bonus epilogue.
Did you enjoy this book?
If so, help other readers find it!
Reviews are one of the most powerful tools in an author’s toolbox. Honest reviews help capture the attention of potential readers and open up many other opportunities, like getting a book into a library.
If you enjoyed this book I would be grateful if you’d leave a review on your preferred reading platform (link below), Goodreads, or Bookbub!
Yes! I’ll leave a review for ‘Don’t Let the Music Die.’
Thanks!
About Annmarie
Annmarie Boyle is a connoisseur of yoga pants, Sharpies, and fancy coffee drinks.
She loves to create stories about strong, smart, and sexy women tackling some of life’s biggest issues—while finding their happily-ever-after along the way. Throw in a lot of laughter and a fabulous supporting cast of characters and you’ve got the stories she both loves to write and read.
She enjoys traveling the world but spends most of her time in a sleepy Midwestern town overlooking a lazy river with her husband, who, after 20+ years, still makes her believe in happily-ever-afters.
Instagram is her favorite way to procrastinate, but she’s on Facebook, too.
Acknowledgments
Early in my writing journey a seasoned author told me to, “Enjoy writing your first book. It’s the only one people aren’t waiting for.” And now I understand exactly what she meant. A second book brings with it a whole set of new challenges and pressures.
So it is with utmost gratitude that I thank the people who carried me through this journey:
To Najla and her amazing team at Qamber Designs and Media, for creating the covers of my dreams.
To Jolene Perry, my editor, for always knowing the perfect balance between tough love and cheerleading.
To Deb, Emily, Niomi, Sharon, and Tricia, thank you for taking time away from your busy lives to proofread this book. As a former copywriter, I’m mortified to find typos in my books. Thank you for saving me from that fate.
To Sandy and Tami, for always knowing exactly how to talk me down from the ledge.
And to my husband, my best friend and my most ardent fan, it’s been a hard year. Thanks for hanging in there with me.
And, as ever, a great big thank you to the readers. I appreciate your support and kind words more than I can say!
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or person living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Jolene Perry
Cover by Qamber Designs and Media
Copyright © 2021 by Annmarie Boyle
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN 978-1-7359351-3-3 (ebook)
ISBN 978-1-7359351-4-0 (print)
Don't Let the Music Die (The Storyhill Musicians Book 2) Page 23
