19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

C andy

As we pull into the parking lot of the Tupelo Automobile Museum, wispy memories of what Courage and I shared in his bed last night are still floating through my mind. After the emotional intensity of my night with Courage, I'm grateful for the chance to lose myself in something lighthearted and fun.

"I can't believe there's a museum dedicated to cars in Elvis's hometown," I muse as we walk through the front doors. "It's like two slices of Americana in one place."

Courage chuckles, his hand finding the small of my back. "Only you would find a way to connect vintage automobiles to the King of Rock and Roll."

"What can I say? I've got layers." I wink at him, enjoying the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.

We spend the next hour wandering through the exhibits, marveling at the sleek lines and gleaming chrome of the classic cars.

As we're looking at a vintage Cadillac, Courage quips, "I guess you could say this museum is a real ‘car-nival' of automotive history!"

I groan—his joke doesn't deserve more than that, but then I decide to get into the act. "I never knew cars could be so ‘tire-rific!'" My laugh echoes in the cavernous museum as we move through the exhibits.

There's something almost romantic about it, the two of us strolling hand in hand, sharing tidbits of trivia and terrible puns.

It feels like a date, I realize with a start. A real, honest-to-goodness date with the man I'm falling head over heels for.

The thought sends a thrill through me, followed quickly by a pang of uncertainty. What are we doing? What is this thing between us? Last night was…intense. Beautiful. Overwhelming in the best possible way. But where do we go from here?

Before I can get too lost in my head, my phone chimes with an incoming call. It's Maury.

"Candy, bubelah !" His jovial voice fills my ear as I step away to take the call. "I've got fantastic news."

"Oh, yeah?" I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Lay it on me."

"I've found you the perfect opening act for the rest of the tour. Her name is Lila Jennings, she's only nineteen, but she's a prodigy. Plays guitar, banjo, fiddle—the whole acoustic nine yards."

My brows lift in surprise. "Wow, she sounds amazing. But are you sure she's ready for a demanding tour? Nineteen is awfully young."

"The pot calling the kettle young… Trust me, this girl is going to be a star. And what better way to launch her career than opening for the incomparable Candy Wood?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Alright, alright. If you think she's got the chops, I'm game. When can I meet her?"

"How about tonight? She can do a short set before you go on, give the crowd a taste of what's to come."

"Perfect. I can't wait to see what she's got."

Hanging up, I turn to find Courage watching me curiously. "Looks like we've got a new addition to the tour family," I explain. "Some teenaged banjo whiz that Maury's over the moon about."

"Fresh blood, huh?" He grins, slinging an arm around my shoulders as we head for the exit. What is it about this platonic gesture that makes me melt? Melt? Maybe that's the wrong word, maybe I should say "want to jump his bones". "Should be interesting."

And interesting it is. When we arrive at the venue to prep for the show, Lila Jennings is already there, doing a soundcheck on stage. She's a tiny thing, all wild curly blond hair and big doe eyes, but the moment she starts to play, it's clear she has serious talent.

I watch from the wings as her fingers fly over the strings, coaxing out melodies that are both sweetly simple and intricately complex. Her voice is pure and clear, with a hint of smoke around the edges that belies her youth.

She finishes her last song to raucous applause from the handful of crewmembers milling about, then bounds off stage with a grin.

"Candy!" She throws her arms open and seems about to hug me, then reels herself back in. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm actually here, opening for you. It's like a dream come true!"

Her excitement is contagious and I find myself grinning right back. "Believe it, girl. You were incredible out there. I can see why Maury snapped you up."

She blushes, ducking her head. "Thanks. That means a lot coming from you. I've been a fan since your KEN days."

"Oh lord, don't remind me of those." I laugh, rolling my eyes. "The hair, the outfits…" I don't mention the handsy producer or the creepy KEN mascot who always happened to "stumble" and catch himself on my tiny, budding breasts.

"But the music!" She grasps my hands, her eyes shining. "Your songs got me through some tough times, you know? They made me feel seen, understood."

I soften, touched by her sincerity. "Then I'm glad they found you when you needed them."

We chat a bit more as the crew bustles around us, setting up for the show. I learn that Lila's been playing music since she could hold a guitar, that she writes her own songs, and that she once snuck into a bluegrass festival in a dog crate to avoid paying for a ticket.

"You didn't!" I'm half scandalized, half impressed.

"I was fifteen and broke!" She shrugs, unrepentant. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do for her art."

"So… Lila Jennings. Any relation to Waylon?"

"I wish. If that were true, I'd be country music royalty."

"Well, maybe you'll be royalty in your own right someday."

By the time we're called to places, Lila feels like the little sister I never had, all youthful bravado and starry-eyed wonder.

When I take my place in the wings to watch her set, that feeling only grows. She's magnetic on stage, her passion for the music evident in every strum, every note. The crowd is enraptured, hanging on her every word.

As she launches into her final song, an achingly beautiful ballad about finding your voice, I feel a hand on my waist. Courage leans down, his breath warm against my ear.

"She reminds me of you," he murmurs. "That fire, that fearlessness. It's what first drew me to you, you know." He pauses and lets his hand drift to my hip, his claws pressing through my jeans to gently grab my attention. "Well, not the first thing. To be honest, the first thing that grabbed my attention just might have been this fine ass of yours."

My heart flutters as I lean back into him. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." His lips brush my temple, taking my thoughts far from the music I should be focused on.

Lila finishes her set to thunderous applause, and I straighten, squaring my shoulders. It's my turn now, my chance to lay myself bare, to connect with the sea of faces waiting beyond the curtain.

"Knock ‘em dead, rock star." Courage presses a quick kiss to my lips, his eyes warm and certain. "I'll be right here when you get back."

With a final squeeze of his hand, I take a deep breath and step out onto the stage, into the waiting spotlight.

As the first chords of my opening song fill the air, as the crowd roars its welcome, I feel it again, that sense of coming home, of puzzle pieces slotting into place.

This is where I belong. This is what I was made for. Fuck whoever is sending me those texts. No one can steal my thunder.