Page 169 of Never In My Wildest Dreams

“Come back, Slater fucking Vaughn,” someone called.

“We love you.”

The band headed offstage, handing off their guitars in exchange for the towels the roadies gave them to wipe the sweat off their faces.

Since they had very different styles, their paths didn’t cross much. Sure, they’d see each other at awards and festivals, but they’d only spent real time together at Gigi Cavanaugh’s recording studio here in Calamity.

“Still a heartthrob after all these years,” she teased the lead singer.

“Tell that to my six-year-old,” Slater said. “She told me she likes Cooper better.”

Cooper grinned. “Yeah, but that’s only because I slid her a lollipop when you weren’t looking.”

When Slater lunged for him, Cooper ducked, and everyone cracked up. “You laugh until you’re the one who walks on stage with a red lollipop sticking to your hair,” Slater said.

“I don’t know how you keep up with all this while raising your families,” she said, genuinely curious. Because she missed music and sneaking off to the bar or stealing a few hours a week in her conservatory wasn’t going to cut it.

“We all live on the same property in the mountains, so we raise our kids together,” Slater said. “We only tour every other year, and the rest of the time, we’re writing or recording. We make our lives as family-friendly as we can.”

“Otherwise, we’d quit,” Calix said. “Family comes first.”

“The only time we’re apart is for tours and retreats,” Derek said.

And there it was. Right there. Her heart pounded. “You ever think of doing one here in Calamity?”

“A retreat?” Slater’s gaze wandered to the mountain ranges surrounding the valley. “We haven’t but this place is cool. And it’s not too far from home.”

“Did you have someplace in mind?” Derek asked.

But the MC had just announced her surprise appearance, and the crowd had begun chanting, “Lorelei, Lorelei, Lorelei.”

She smiled. “I sure do.”

“You better get out there,” Slater said.

“We’ll be in touch, yeah?” Derek asked.

She answered with a smile because she knew she was going to make her dream come true. Knew it.

Waving to the audience, she crossed the stage to the piano. She didn’t have a speech, no choreography, just a hurricane of emotion she needed to work out. The crowd was going wild for her, but she had to block it all out and stay focused.

Once, it had been such a thrill. She’d mistaken the crowd’s adoration for love.

Now, she knew what real love felt like. It felt like her dad getting into her bed in the middle of the night after he’d heard her sobbing and hugging her until she fell asleep. It felt like Slick making a garland of popcorn for her when all he wanted was to be alone in his cabin. It felt like Stevie nursing in the rocking chair, her blond hair silver in the moonlight.

“Thanks so much.” She waved. “It’s been a while, so I appreciate that you guys still welcome me back to the stage. I’ve been working on a few songs. They’re different from what you’re used to, so you can let me know what you think.”

“We love anything you do,” someone shouted.

“Because we loveyou,” a woman called.

“That means more to me than you know.” As her fingers settled over the keys, roadies were busy getting ready for the next performance.

No, she didn’t have a band, and she didn’t have a set list, but she had her voice, her fingers, and a melody in her mind.

She shut out the noise, the crowd, and the expectations, and immersed herself in him.

Booker Hayes.

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