“But you’re afraid.”
She leans back, her distraught expression breaking my heart. “Of losing you, Mac. I’m terrified oflosingyou. Even if you never have another seizure or stroke, I don’t know what happens when you fully recover. We get through this whole songwriting process, go to Nashville to get it recorded…then what? Am I leaving you in Nashville and coming home by myself? How does this even work?”
I lower my head to her shoulder, guilt washing over me.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been clear with my intention. You’re not going to lose me after I recover. We’ll go to Nashville, lay down the tracks, and then, if you aren’t tired of me after all that, you’ll let me come back home with you.”
“Home?” Kinley asks, still doubtful.
“Why are you so surprised by that, babe? I think I’ve been pretty clear about how I feel about you.”
“I just…I keep thinking that once you’re fully healed, you’ll realize this is one big…I dunno. Romantic delusion brought on by TIA?”
“Baby, if these feelings are the result of a stroke, I hope I never recover.”
She smacks me, then tightens her grip on me. After a moment, she lifts her head, a sparkle in her eyes.
“So, what? I say I love you, and that’s it? You’re just moving in?”
“Thatislesbian culture,” I respond, unable to maintain any façade of seriousness.
“Can’t disappoint the lesbians, now can I?”
Kinley takes a deep breath and the subtle tension around her shoulders, which she’s been carrying for weeks, vanishes. Wrapping my arms around her, I silently promise to stay by her side for as long as I have breath in my lungs.
Chapter16
Kinley
While the seizureended up not being that serious, it changed something in me. Talking to Mac and planning for her to move here sealed it.
I’d been avoiding looking my career in the eye for too long, playing at the edges of questioning it but never committing. When Gene and I finally had a chance to sit down and look at my earning potential for the two songs Mac and I have been working on—plus a third that has some real potential—I realized I won’t have to work unless I want to.
Putting it that way gave me the answer to a question I’ve been too afraid to ask. I need to move on from my work in the medical field. When I talk to Dr. Zamora, I’m emotional, but she’s kind.
“You kept me sane during an insane time, Kinley. You deserve to rest and to pursue a new passion, whatever that looks like.”
Joey is sad when we sit her down to discuss the change, but we’re able to celebrate her promotion to my position at the same time. While we are officially at the end of the baby boom, I volunteer as backup until Dr. Zamora is fully restaffed.
As difficult as those conversations have been, I’m consumed by relief. I didn’t realize how exhausted I was, and it makes me think about all those years Mac spent on the road. Sure, she’s been touring for three years, but she spent all the years before that playing at dives and honky-tonks all over the South, paying for herself, living out of her van, making sure her band got paid before she did…it all took a toll.
In the last month, however, I’ve seen her truly blossom. She would hate that characterization, but she has. All that overwork was driven by fear, need, and a sense of not belonging. But she does belong. She belongs here in Summit Springs with me and this community. She belongs in the Nashville community. She belongs in the country music community. She belongs on the airwaves, on streaming services, and even on the dreaded TikTok.
Mac and I continue to fall for each other and find ways to support each other. All of my doubts and fears about where her loyalties lie have been put to rest again and again. I love that she’s working with people who see what she brings to the table.
Mason decides to stay as well, and I sell him my father’s cabin plus the parcel of land attached. He and Freddy already have expansion plans in the works, and they don’t mind our mild ribbing about moving in together so soon.
I’ve also sold a parcel of land to Gene so he can build a recording studio they’re calling Studio West, ensuring Mac can sustainably live here. Additionally, country artists with more of Mac’s vibe now have a place to stay and record. It will all be finished by the end of this year, and I cannot wait.
In the meantime, Mac has only had to go back to Nashville twice, once for just two days, and she just got back last night from a four-day trip. She’s working out her new contract, which gives her more control over her words and music than she’s ever had before, and, true to his word, Gene has sliced her tour dates in half.
As I stretch out under the crisp, white sheets, Mac slips between my thighs, folding her arms on my belly, resting her chin.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” she says, her voice thick with sleep.
I blush and ruffle my fingers through her hair. “Good morning, love. How was your flight last night?”
“It was okay. Delayed, which sucked, but okay.”
