He raised a hand to settle them. “Glad you enjoyed that,” he offered. “It seems like you guys know some of my music.”
There was a ripple of laughter that went around the room.
“Any requests?”
For the next half hour, Sawyer played several songs from his album and even a tune he hadn’t performed in years, thanks to a request from an old high-school friend in the audience. He kept an eye on Rory as he sang and even managed to catch a smile on her face at one point, which she quickly wiped away when she saw him watching her.
He’d learned to read an audience quite well in his years of performing, especially a small group like this. So when he sensed they were ready, he thumbed a couple softer chords.
“I appreciate you guys giving me the chance to play a few songs here this evening, but I know you didn’t come to hear me. You came for Rory. Some of you know that Rory and I were a joint act for years. Now, I’ve played with a lot of talented people since. But I’ve got to tell you that none of them quite measure up to her.”
There were murmurs of approval moving through the room.
“I don’t know if it’s those Irish roots of hers or something she inherited from her parents, but you’ve got to give it to her—the girl’s got spirit, and she knows music.”
The murmurs grew louder, and a couple people even clapped. He slid a glance Rory’s way. She was looking down at the bar, and though he couldn’t see her face, he suspected she was blushing.
“So, to finish up tonight, I’d like to ask her to come up here and join me.”
Rory’s head snapped up, and his suspicions were confirmed. Her cheeks were tinted pink, and her eyes were wide with surprise.
“And we’ll perform a duet for you.”
There were more whistles and shouts of approval, but Sawyer didn’t pay them any mind. He didn’t need this crowd’s permission. He only needed Rory’s. He looked at her, trying to convey his thoughts with his eyes.
Please. Come and sing with me once more.
He wasn’t sure she’d do it. Rory was stubborn, and she wouldn’t stand for being bullied or manipulated. Neither of which he was trying to do, but he wasn’t sure she’d see it that way. So he was a little surprised, but mostly relieved, when she pushed away from the counter and stood to her feet.
She made her way back to the stage and came to stand beside him. And having her there, it was almost as if the last two years had ceased to exist, and they’d never been separated at all.
* * *
RORY’S HEART WAS thundering in her chest so loudly that she feared the microphone would pick it up. She should have known Sawyer would find a way to turn the situation around on her. But what worried her most was what a thrill it gave her. It had been nearly two years since they’d shared a stage. But standing here next to him, all that time melted away, and for a brief moment, she could have almost convinced herself that nothing had changed.
Sawyer kept the guitar, and though she waited to hear the opening chords, she knew which song he’d choose. As she’d expected, he launched into a duet they’d performed many times—a heartbreaking song about love and loss and the determination to keep going through it all.
He took the first verse, and she waited to join him until the chorus. When she did, their voices blended in such achingly sweet harmony that she had to blink back tears.
Why had Sawyer come back now, after all this time? She’d waited for him at first, thinking he’d realize what he’d done, that he couldn’t live his life without her. But as seasons changed and summer turned into fall and then winter, and she heard his first single on the radio, she had to accept that they were finished. She had spent nearly as much of her life with Sawyer as without him, so it had taken her a long time to adjust to his complete and utter defection. Most days, it still felt a little odd not to see him. They had been such a constant part of each other’s lives that something still felt missing in her day when he wasn’t there, like forgetting to brush her teeth or how to tie her shoes.
Not that she equated her relationship with Sawyer to those things, but he had always been such a steady part of her life. When he’d taken that away, she’d been adrift for a long time. And now here he was, back in the center of her world. She didn’t quite know how to deal with that.
As she sang her part of the song, she felt his eyes on her. She kept her focus on the audience, not wanting to see the look on his face, but at the same time, craving his attention. This was not good. She didn’t want to wish for anything from Sawyer, not even so much as a glance. But having him beside her filled up a vacant pocket of her spirit that she’d tried to forget was empty. Now with the two of them on the stage together, everything that had been misaligned for the last two years shifted into place.
She gave herself over to the song, closing her eyes and soaking in the lyrics and the soft strum of the guitar as their voices blended together on the bridge.
When you get lonely,
I’ll be everywhere you are...
When Sawyer strummed the last note, she kept her eyes closed for only a second longer before the coffeehouse crowd rattled the walls with thunderous applause. She opened her eyes and instead of looking at the audience, her gaze went straight to Sawyer. He was watching her, happiness lining his features. Her heart tugged at the sight of him, those warm blue eyes, the trademark scruff along his jawline and that light brown hair that occasionally fell over his forehead and into his eyes. She had missed him. Too much. She couldn’t let him back in again, after how thoroughly he’d shattered her world with his leaving.
She’d promised him she’d stick around, but their time on the stage was up. She had to get out of there before her heart overrode her head.
“Thanks for a great night, everyone!”
With that farewell, she moved past Sawyer and off the stage. He was still holding her guitar, but she decided she’d pick it up sometime over the weekend. Dave would see it was taken care of.
She nearly tripped down the two steps leading off the stage and began making her way to the door. Several people tried to stop her, but she cut off each of their comments with a thank-you and kept forging her way toward escape.
When she reached the exit, she spared a glance behind her. She saw Sawyer, surrounded by fans but his eyes centered solely on her. His expression had shifted from joy to hurt. He was obviously wounded by her quick departure. For a moment, she wondered if she should wait for him. But no, she couldn’t risk it.
She exited the café and headed for her pickup, at the far end of the parking lot. The sight of the truck’s peeling blue paint caused her to sigh with relief. It was like a refuge, offering shelter from everything going on outside its cozy little cab. Technically, the pickup was Connor’s. He’d started using it after their father’s death. But Rory had a lot of memories wrapped up in the vehicle. Patrick Callahan had purchased it shortly after he’d immigrated to the States with his two young children, following their mother’s death. To this day, the smell of sunbaked vinyl upholstery and engine oil always made her think of Sunday drives, wedged in the middle of the cab between her dad and brother. She hadn’t minded that Connor inherited the pickup because she knew he’d take good care of it, as their father had. But now that the restaurant was doing so well, and Connor was marrying Harper, he’d bought a more family-friendly SUV and given her use of their dad’s old truck.
She nearly ran the last few steps, then pulled open the door with a creak and climbed inside. She never locked it. It wasn’t worth stealing, and she kept nothing of value inside. But when she reached for the keys she usually kept hooked on the belt loop of her jeans, she frowned.
Oh, no. She’d left her keys beneath the counter of the bar inside. She pushed her head against the headrest and groaned. She couldn’t go back for them. No way.
Which meant that if she wanted