There was a dead silence. All his cousins were staring at him.
“A trust with me in charge of it, of course,” he said firmly.
A sharp, wry grin from Raoul. “We guessed that part.”
“Hell, Matt,” Tristan said low, wonderingly. And then, “You really like her, don’t you?”
Matt flushed hot. That was just rude, to point that out like that. He glared at Tristan.
Tristan grinned and punched him in the shoulder.
“This one’s a new one,” Layla said up on stage. “My producers haven’t got hold of it yet, so I’m testing it out on you all.”
The crowd cheered excitedly.
“I wrote it for somebody here,” Layla said, and Matt got caught by curiosity, focusing on her again.
She was grinning down at him. “Matt, can you come up here?”
Wait, what?
What the hell?
Layla beckoned coaxingly. Her crowd cheered, everyone craning to try to see the man she was talking to.
Hell, no. He took a step back, and firm hands gripped his arms.
“No!” he growled. “Tristan. Raoul. Let the hell go of me. Don’t you dare.”
Damien ducked behind him and shoved him hard between the shoulders as Tristan and Raoul dragged him forward.
“Damn it! You bastards! I’m going to—”
He tripped over the first step as they shoved him up it. The crowd was cheering more and more as they spotted him, and Layla beamed down at him.
Oh, hell. Now what was he supposed to do? Disappoint that face?
He came on up the stairs.
Below the stage, his cousins were grinning, Allegra and Léa had appeared and were clapping and cheering, and pretty much the entire half of the audience who knew him personally were staring at him with their mouths open.
“Layla,” he tried to hiss, but her mic was on, and he didn’t know how much of his voice it could pick up, so he had to bite back the protest.
She wrapped her arm around him, her guitar bumping against his ribs, and turned toward the crowd. “See?” she said, and everyone cheered again. “Wouldn’t you write a song for this man?”
Oh, hell. He felt like he was on fire. He started to glare at all his relatives in the crowd and then remembered that a glare probably wasn’t the best look on stage.
“He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?” Layla said to the crowd, squeezing his waist affectionately. “I’ll tell you a secret—he’s pretty sweet, too.”
He was going to kill her. It was official. In the crowd, his cousins were laughing their heads off and cheering her louder than anyone. He clenched his fist as tightly as he could to stop himself from at least giving them a little doigt d’honneur.
“I am not sweet,” he said to her between his teeth. Shit, that seemed to have gotten picked up by the nearest microphone, because the crowd cheered again. He was going to kill the festival sound crew, too, while he was at it. Wasn’t one of his Delange cousins on that crew?
“Here we go,” Layla called to the crowd, stepping away from him to free up her arms to play. And to Matt: “This one’s for you.”
Her first chords were quiet, brooding, this sweet, wistful call:
Lonely
Lost looking and lonely
Doing everything solely
Cause I hadn’t found you
His heart felt so vulnerable and funny, and he wished to hell she wasn’t telling him this in front of the crowd. But…that was so…sweet. And, and…well, she was wide open, too, wasn’t she? Just laying herself out there, the way she always did.
Lonely
Wandering lonely
Footsore and only
Wishing for you
Aww. Damn it. She was killing him. Bouclettes, no wonder you need to hide in my valley, when you’re always sticking your heart out like this in front of a crowd.
And, Really? You really feel that?
Her chords grew stronger, braver, truer with each verse, like the energy that surged through a weary traveler when she spotted the light of home.
Lonely
Always everywhere lonely
Seeking everywhere only
In hopes of you.
His hand reached for her. Bouclettes. Me, too.
Her chords softened again, growing quiet, sure, true. This profound simplicity to them.
Lonely
No longer lonely
No longer only
Because my wish came true.
Aww, hell. His eyes felt damp. This was terrible.
And everybody was cheering, and she was gazing up at him with this soft look in her eyes like he was amazing, like he was…her wish come true, and, and…
“I love you,” she said, with her mic still on so that the whole freaking world could hear. The audience went crazy.
And she didn’t even seem to notice them. She was all focused on him, like her hero, and—
“You make me happy,” she said softly.
Damn it. “Me, too,” he said gruffly, and he could hear his own voice echoing out over the crowd. The damn sound crew must have turned on the main mic right beside him. But what the hell else was he supposed to do? Leave her hanging out there on her own? “I love you, too,” he said simply.