Page 123 of Chasin’s Surrender

After everything that had happened, Leslie didn’t want to lose me as a client but she knew I was edging to drop my label. In a weird twist, she sat down with the guys and explained why she’d given her brother a job. It wasn’t because she’d condoned what he’d done, or was trying to cover it up—she gave him work so he’d stay on a righteous path and she could watch over him. She loved her brother, even if he’d done wrong.

She’d convinced Chasin she was on the up and up, so she left the label and came to work for me. That is, she ran my label. In doing so, she took a pay cut, because I wasn’t about making money off the backs of up-and-coming artists, I was about giving them a leg up, therefore my cut of their royalties was substantially less than what others took.

And, by the way, Melissa and Len had slunk away. Or more like, my attorneys had threatened a huge lawsuit if they even uttered my name. But the point was, they were gone.

“Whatcha doing, baby?” Chasin asked, and swept my hair off my neck.

His cold lips hit my neck and I shivered. Not because their coolness surprised me—the late-fall evening was chilly—but because I shivered anytime he kissed me. That hadn’t changed and I suspected it never would.

“Getting Rory more hot chocolate,” I answered.

That was something else we’d changed. The bar in the studio was rad. There were three taps behind the bar, rows of liquor, mixers, all the normal stuff, but also plenty of stuff for the kids to drink—soda, every juice box flavor imaginable, and now that the weather was cooling down, we’d added hot chocolate.

“Nixon and Micky are getting ready to leave,” he told me.

That made me smile.

“I’m glad they stopped by and brought Holly.”

The day Holly had come into the world was a day I’d never forget. The one and only time I’d ever seen Nixon Swagger crack. It was sweet. He was a baby hog but that was a whole ’nother story.

“I’ll grab Rory’s drink,” Chasin told me, and picked up the warm mug I’d prepared.

With his free hand, he grabbed mine, and together we walked out into the chilly night. The vision that hit me was exactly what I’d dreamed it would be, only better.

Chasin had built us a huge firepit. Macy’s best friend’s husband, Rob, had made ten kickass log benches that now sat surrounding the roaring fire. There were also a few Adirondack chairs we hauled out when the crowd was too large for just the benches. And that happened a lot. Sometimes the whole family got together and we needed the extra seating, but also when the bands my label produced were sitting out there unwinding after spending the day in the studio.

As I said, it was awesome.

Perfect.

Just as I’d dreamed—but better.

My eyes scanned the area, looking for McKenna and Nix. I did this slowly, so I could take it all in. Weston and Silver were huddled talking to Jameson and Kennedy. My girl Kennedy had a secret, one that was going to make her new husband very happy. They’d gotten married in the back field. A place that Kennedy had told me was sacred, the same place that Nixon had married McKenna. The place where I hoped one day I’d marry Chasin.

Macy and Alec were talking to Becky and Rob. Two more awesome people I considered close friends. Bobby was laughing at something either Jonny or Holden had said, though I assumed Jonny because Holden was shooting daggers at Charleigh’s back as she wrangled Faith, Becky and Rob’s boys, and Caleb. Jocelyn and Rory were in Bobby’s house—which was just across the barnyard. We’d converted an old shed into a badass space for her and Holden had moved the Airstream—since the firepit was now in the spot where he used to park it—over to the side of Bobby’s place.

Those two bickered like brother and sister. They were a riot, and if I didn’t know that Bobby only had eyes for the broody Jonny, I’d think something was going on between them. Alas, there wasn’t. But something was going on between Holden and Charleigh.

I knew the story. Holden told me all of it from start to finish, and I think I’m the only one who knew how much seeing Charleigh and Faith gutted him. My heart hurt for both of them. Seriously, the story was not only sad, but full of guilt.

I hated that Holden was in pain, and when Charleigh packed up and moved up to Maryland from Virginia, his pain intensified tenfold. Partly because Charleigh was around a lot. But more, Faith was, and it was Faith’s existence that hurt Holden the worst and remained the source of most of his guilt. I got it, one-hundred percent understood why seeing the little girl would hurt so bad. After all, she was the reason Charleigh had married Paul. Not that you could blame the cute little girl, I loved her to pieces. But to Holden, she was something else. And he couldn’t get over it. He loved Charleigh. She was it for him, his one and only. And he couldn’t have her unless he found a way past his hurt.

“Babe, Rory’s at Bobby’s if you wanna take that to her,” I told Chasin.

“Sure thing. But don’t start without me.”

“Never,” I whispered, and rolled to my toes to give him a kiss.

“Will you play “You Can’t See?”” Zack asked Genevieve.

“After she plays “Landslide,”” Mandy demanded.

Chasin’s gaze slid from Micky’s siblings to his woman. She’d been playing for the last hour; he knew she was done, but she wouldn’t say no. She never did—not with the people she loved. Evie gave and gave to her family.

Incidentally, Chasin learned to like country music. No, he loved Vivi Rush’s style of country music and liked the music her artists made. But he still preferred rock.

“I’ll do both.”