EPILOGUE
The Grammy Awards The Following Year
Jamie Keaton adjusted the delicate strap of her emerald gown, her fingers smoothing over the fabric as if that would calm the nervous energy buzzing in her veins. The air inside the arena crackled with anticipation with the biggest names in the industry gathered under the dazzling stage lights.
But none of it mattered as much as the people sitting behind her.
Charlotte and Emily were practically vibrating in their seats, their whispered excitement reaching Jamie’s ears even over the hum of the crowd. Ruth and Nolan flanked them, reining in the girls’ energy just enough to keep them from bouncing into the aisle.
Clayton, seated beside her, seemed the picture of ease, one arm draped over the back of her chair. But Jamie knew better. She could see the way his fingers tapped idly against his thigh, the telltale sign of his anticipation.
Then the moment arrived: “The nominees for Best Country Duo/Group Performance are . . . ”
Jamie felt Clayton’s hand slip into hers, his thumb running over her knuckles in slow, steady circles.
“Think we can go three for three tonight?” he murmured, his voice a low drawl that sent warmth coating her stomach.
She arched her brow. “Are you planning on throwing me over your shoulder if we do?”
“Damn right.”
The envelope was opened and the name inside was revealed.
“And the Grammy goes to . . . Clayton Langley and Jamie Keaton , ‘I Did A Good Job of Drinking’!”
Behind them Charlotte and Emily exploded with cheers, their tiny voices ringing over the applause.
Jamie barely had time to react before Clayton was grinning like a devil, his eyes flashing with mischief.
“No, wait, Clayton, don’t you dare . . .”
Too late.
A squeal escaped her as he swept her off her feet, tossing her over his shoulder like a damn sack of flour. Laughter and cheers filled the arena and Jamie smacked his back, even as she couldn’t stop the breathless laughter bubbling out of her.
When he set her down on stage she was shaking her head, barely able to suppress her smile as they took the mic.
“I think we both know there was a time we never would’ve dreamed we’d be standing here like this,” Clayton said, lacing his fingers through hers.
Jamie grinned. “Yeah, because I couldn’t stand you.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd .
“But somewhere along the way,” Clayton continued, his voice turning softer, more certain, “we figured out that maybe, just maybe, we make a damn good team. In music. In life.”
A voice suddenly rang out from the audience.
“ We love you, Miss Mom! ”
Jamie turned, catching sight of Charlotte and Emily waving wildly from their seats, their enthusiasm uncontainable.
Clayton chuckled beside her, his grip on her hand tightening. Jamie just shook her head, sending a playful kiss toward the girls before turning back to Clayton.
“Well, folks,” she said, clutching her statue, “I guess I’ve gone country.”
The applause thundered through the room as they exited the stage, their hands still clasped together.
But the night wasn’t over.
When the Country Album of the Year was announced, Jamie was still trying to catch her breath from the first win.
She felt Clayton tense beside her, though he kept his expression composed.
Behind them Emily leaned forward, her voice a not-so-subtle whisper. “Daddy, you’re going to win.”
Clayton smirked. “Oh yeah? You got some psychic powers I don’t know about?”
Charlotte piped up. “No, but Miss Mom says you’re the best. And she’s always right.”
Jamie covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “I like how these girls think.”
The presenter opened the envelope and time stretched impossibly thin .
“And the Grammy for Country Album of the Year goes to . . . Clayton Langley!”
Charlotte and Emily shrieked, bouncing in their seats.
“Go, Daddy!” Charlotte yelled.
“Miss Mom, tell him to move!” Emily added.
Jamie smirked. “You heard the bosses, cowboy.”
Clayton shook his head, pressed a kiss to Jamie’s temple, and made his way to the stage. Jamie watched, her heart twisting in the best way as he took the golden gramophone in his hands. When he turned back to the audience, his gaze found hers first.
“I, uh . . . wasn’t expecting this.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
“A few years ago I thought my best days in this business were behind me. Turns out they were just starting. This album—this whole damn journey—doesn’t happen without the people who believed in me, especially one stubborn, brilliant, maddeningly talented woman.
Jamie Keaton, you changed my life. This one’s for you, darlin’. ”
Jamie swallowed past the lump in her throat, dabbing at the corner of her eye as the crowd erupted in cheers.
But the biggest moment of the night was still to come.
The final category: Song of the Year.
Jamie’s heart pounded as the presenter read through the nominees.
“And the Grammy goes to . . . Jamie Keaton!”
For a second she forgot how to breathe.
Clayton was already turning in his seat, his strong arms wrapping around her, lifting her off the ground.
“I told you,” he murmured against her ear, “you were going to win that dang Grammy.”
Jamie closed her eyes for half a second, absorbing the moment. The weight of it. The sheer magic of it .
She stepped onto the stage and her trembling fingers wrapped around the golden award. She exhaled, steadied herself, and smiled.
“I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was a kid, but the reality? So much sweeter. Because music isn’t just about notes and lyrics—it’s about the people who make it with you. And the people who you make it for. Clayton, Charlotte, and Emily, I love you with my whole heart.”
The applause roared through the room, but Jamie saw only him.
When she made it back to her seat Clayton’s eyes were shining with something warm, impossibly deep. He leaned in, his voice low. “Told you we’d go three for three.”
Jamie rolled her eyes but she couldn’t stop the way her lips curved. She tilted toward him, whispering just loud enough for only him to hear, “Shut up and kiss me.”
So he did.
The night was theirs.
And so was the future.