His eyes lit up. “I know. But I want to add another duet. The crowd loves it when we sing together.”
She studied him. “Do you have a song in mind?”
He grinned. “‘A Little Bit Country, a Little Bit Rock ’n’ Roll.’”
She blinked. “That’s a song?”
Clayton grabbed his phone from the table and pulled up a YouTube video.
Jamie watched dumbfounded as a dark-haired young man in a tux and a woman who looked like his twin twirling around in a red chiffon dress belted out a corny melody through dazzling smiles. By the time the video ended she was laughing so hard she had to set down her mug.
“You can’t be serious,” she gasped.
“Dead serious.” He held up his phone. “Donny and Marie Osmond had themselves a huge hit with this song.”
She wiped her eyes. “And you wantmeto sing ‘I’m a little bit country’?”
“No, I’ll sing that part.” He smirked.
She exhaled a laugh, still skeptical. “It’s kind of cheesy.”
“That’s the beauty of it,” he said. “The audience will eat it up.”
She mulled it over. “I don’t even know that song.”
“We’ll rehearse as much as we need to.”
She stared at him. Was it the sleep deprivation or was she actually considering this ridiculous idea?
“Okay,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll give it a shot.”
Clayton picked up his rope again. “Now that I’ve convinced you, why don’t I teach you how to tie a constrictor knot?”
She eyed him. “Why?”
“Tying knots relieves tension.” He placed his hands over hers, guiding her through the motions. His fingers were warm and steady as he folded the rope into a figure eight and looped it over itself. “Now you try.”
Jamie took the rope and attempted to copy his movements but the loops slipped, unraveling before they could take shape.
Clayton chuckled.
She tried again, then huffed, handing the rope back. “Great. Now I’m more frustrated than when I started.”
He smirked. “Guess we’ll just have to keep practicing.”
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling.
The bus was in Inglewood when Jamie woke up. It was difficult to believe she was only thirty minutes from where she used to live with Derrick. Then she remembered she’d agreed to sing that corny song. With a groan she pulled the comforter over her head, wishing she could stay there forever.
Her wish didn’t last long. The twins opened her door, like they did every morning, then launched themselves onto her bed. She didn’t know how anyone found time for self-pity with kids around. Sighing, she got up and followed them to the front lounge, still feeling worn out.
The girls had been practicing with their karaoke machine and they were eager to sing something to her.
She poured a cup of coffee and sank onto the couch just as the music started. At first she didn’t recognize the song, until Emily began to sing “The Sweetest Gift” by Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, and Linda Ronstadt. Charlotte joined in, their voices blending in perfect harmony. Jamie glanced at Clayton, who watched them with quiet pride.
How had she not known they could sing like this? Then again it made sense—their parents were incredible singers in their own right.
When the last note faded tears were slipping down her cheeks, and her heart was full and aching all at once. She loved these children as if they were her own. But they weren’t. And they never would be.
