Bluestone Song (Welcome to Bluestone Book 2)

Blurb:
Beth Lapointe has her hands full--her teenaged sister is struggling with new motherhood, her job as a waitress is becoming more strenuous as her boss is pulled in different directions, and her alcoholic father is demanding she help him or he’ll return to Bluestone.

The last thing she needs is her high school sweetheart to show up live and in person and to realize she still has feelings for him.

Country singer Maddox Bradley has returned to Bluestone, the only place he’s ever known peace. A car accident has the tabloids speculating over whether he’s drinking again, so he heads to the town where he used to spend his summer vacations.

The town where he fell in love for the first time.

He's surprised Beth is still there, but pleased. When he finds out she needs help, he wants nothing more than to give it to her, to make up for leaving her behind all those years ago. But is she willing to take it from a recovering alcoholic who has no plans to stick around?

Excerpt:

Maddox’s voice through the amp startled her. “Welcome to Quinn’s, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Maddox Bradley.”
He started with one of his hits, which surprised her, knowing the little she did about concerts. She thought the artists held their best stuff until last. But this way, even with the crowd in Quinn’s singing along, she could pretend she was listening to the radio, that the man himself wasn’t sitting a few yards away.
She’d forgotten what a lovely voice he had, without all the back-up instruments and technology to make him sound good. He didn’t need any of that—he had a talent all his own.
Once the raucous applause died down, he leaned close to the microphone. “I’d like to play a song I wrote when I was here in Bluestone one summer, a long time ago.”
Beth couldn’t stop herself from pivoting toward the stage. As if expecting her reaction, he tipped his hat, then strummed the intro to the song. A tumble of emotions she didn’t want to identify rolled through her, and she turned away to get back to work. Nonetheless, she found herself stopping to listen as he sang the song that she remembered him writing, the full moon over the lake, the crickets chirping, the pretty girl beside him.
One he’d written when they were together. He’d played it for her the morning after they’d spent most of the night making out on the hood of his car under said moonlight. Son of a bitch. He had to know she’d remember. What was he trying to do? Manipulate her was what, but manipulate her into doing what? Going to bed with him again? Why? He could have any girl he wanted.
She kept her back to him, not wanting him to see how he affected her. But she couldn’t drown out his voice.
The floor beneath her vibrated as he broke into the song that had made him a star, the party anthem about drinking, playing pool and picking up women. It was a catchy song and she found herself moving in step to the music. Damn him.
“Take this to Maddox,” Quinn shouted at her over the music, passing her a bottle of pop and nodding in the direction of the stage.
“I have enough tables.”
Quinn glowered. “Too busy to be shy here. Take him the damned drink.”
“Fine.” She set the tray down on the bar and let it clatter. “My other order better be ready when I get back.”
She snatched the bottle by the neck and charged through the crowd to deliver it. At least he hadn’t backslid, but what would people think about a man who sang about whiskey drinking a carbonated beverage? She slipped and slid between the people circling him and held out the pop silently when she reached him. Damn, he looked even better than he sounded, sweat dampening his hair around the edges of his cowboy hat, glistening at the opening of his western-cut shirt. Her tongue curled against the desire to lick his skin. He stopped mid-strum to take the drink from her. She watched like an idiot as he tilted his head back and drank, watched the muscles of his throat work. He set the bottle down and picked up the song exactly