Must Be Wright (The Wrights 3)

She didn’t even look at the message again, she just hit Send before she could change her mind.

She tossed the phone on her desk, disgusted with herself. All she could do now was focus. As soon as she penciled in a rough draft of the schedule, she could pick up Cooper from Miranda’s and head home.

She refocused on the computer and scrolled through the upcoming events, but her heart wasn’t in it. The schedule would have to wait another day. Or at least until tonight, after Cooper was asleep.

She tapped the mouse one more time, then slid the arrow to the X in upper left corner to close the window. But her gaze snagged on the sight of Wyatt’s handsome face, and her stomach flipped.

He hadn’t said anything about being at the Opry next month. She realized he must be switching things up to fit Belle’s needs, and happiness softened her spine.

Gypsy took a deep breath and typed in his band’s website. She forced her gaze to skim past all the amazing images of Wyatt with his band, his smile electric, his joy tangible through the screen. He really would be giving up a lot to stay home with Belle. A huge sacrifice. It hadn’t been her place to tell him what to do with his life or how he should parent Bel

le. She’d have to add that to her apology if she ever got the chance to give him one.

She clicked into his tour calendar and was hit by a large message instead of concert dates.

Due to a family emergency, Fifth of Jack will be altering their tour schedule.

Add your email below for updates.

All Gypsy’s air leaked from her lungs, and tears stung her eyes. He was trying. Really trying. She understood the world he lived in, and she didn’t know one artist at his level who would make the sacrifices he was making.

“Shit.” She covered her face and huffed a disgusted laugh. She’d let an amazing man get away. “I’m such an idiot.”

The bar grew rowdy, and the sound of the first few chords of a song floated from an acoustic guitar. Gypsy shook off the gloom, closed her computer, and stood.

“Hey, y’all.”

The smooth, deep male voice came over the microphone on the stage, and Gypsy froze. Wyatt’s voice. No, couldn’t be Wyatt. He was supposed to be in Boston or Wisconsin or somewhere.

“I’m gonna really need your help tonight.”

Gypsy pulled in a sharp breath. Her heart squeezed, and doves flew out, battering around her ribs. “Oh my God.”

“I need to impress the hell out of this bar’s owner so she’ll let me come back now and then. Y’all up for helping me with that?”

Their cheers rattled the walls.

“Gyp-sy. Gyp-sy. Gyp-sy.” The crowd clapped, chanting Gypsy’s name. Then Cooper’s voice came over the mic. “Ma-ma. Ma-ma. Ma-ma.”

“What in the hell?” She swung her door wide and made her way toward the stage. She saw Wyatt sitting on the stage under the lights, his guitar on one knee, Cooper on the other with the microphone in his small hand. Belle stood by Wyatt’s side, arm still casted and in a sling, her other hand around another microphone.

All her misery vanished, and she made her way to the front, grinning so big, her face hurt. “What are you doing here?”

“Auditioning,” he said with all that warm charisma she’d come to love.

“We’re his backup singers,” Cooper said proudly, pointing to Belle and making the crowd laugh.

She glanced around, and her gaze stopped on Miranda. Jack had his arm around her, and they were grinning ear to ear. Beside them, Dylan stood with Emma, his baby girl in one arm, the other around Emma’s shoulders. Her brother’s unusual visit suddenly made sense. They stood beside an older couple who could have only been Wyatt’s parents.

“Ready, partner?” Wyatt asked Cooper and Belle, drawing Gypsy’s gaze back to the stage.

“Yes,” the kids said in unison.

To Cooper, Wyatt said, “You gotta hold that mic closer, or no one’s gonna hear us.”

The crowd laughed, and Cooper adjusted the mic. Gypsy couldn’t remember the last time Cooper had looked so happy. Every baby tooth glimmered in the stage light, and his face glowed as he looked up at Wyatt with obvious hero worship. Belle too looked happy, and after all she’d been through, that spoke to Wyatt’s amazing love and attention.

Wyatt strummed the guitar into an upbeat but poignant tune. Looking between Cooper and Belle, he said, “On three. One, two—”