Page 45 of Chasin’s Surrender

But everyone else? I didn’t understand. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand because I wasn’t ready to meet fifty-two million people that, by the look on Chasin’s face, meant something to him, even if right then at that moment he looked annoyed. But annoyed in a way that wasn’t really annoyed because these people were his people.

Christ on a cracker.

“Oh, and Dylan.”

“Who’s Dylan?”

“Weston and Silver’s son.”

Oh, well, I could handle a child. I loved kids and they normally loved me.

But everyone else? I wasn’t so sure about that.

“They’re harmless,” he told me. “This is what they do. They know you’re going through something so they’re gonna rally around you. They’re not doing this to be nosy, get in your shit, or crawl up your ass, though they’re gonna do all of that. But it’s gonna be in a way that’s blanketed in care and concern. I’d like to warn you off of them only because I want you to myself, but they’re here, and I promise you, they’re good women. But if we get in there and you’re overwhelmed or you don’t like them being here, give me the word and I’ll toss them out on their nosy asses.”

That was nice.

That felt really good, Chasin looking out for me, again.

But then, he’d been taking care of everything since I stepped in his office, even though I was supremely pissed at him and tried to freeze him out. And since I’d had my talk with Bobby earlier, I’d come to a few conclusions that meant I needed to talk to him about a variety of things, one of those being I forgave him for being an extreme dick. I also needed him to understand a few things about me.

However, sitting in a car with a house full of nosy women waiting to welcome me, and as Chasin put it, get in my shit, it was not the time to get into everything I needed to say. But he needed to know I appreciated what he’d done and was still doing for me.

“Thank you for taking care of everything.”

Chasin’s head tilted and a million emotions flitted over his features before his eyes went soft and warm. That look made me hark back and wonder if I’d thanked him since he’d been back in my life. The sad answer was no, I hadn’t shown any appreciation.

I wasn’t entirely sure what that said about me but I was pretty sure none of it was nice and it made me kind of bitchy. And having a lot of bitchy people in my life, I tried not to allow myself to be one—even when I had reason to be.

“And thanks for hauling all my crap out to your car and packing up the groceries. It was really cool of you to be…well…so cool about it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And I’ll be okay with everybody. But thanks for that, too.”

“If you’re not—”

“I’ll be fine. You’ll be there and so will Bobby.”

Something else moved over his features and his eyes flashed. “Yeah, honey, I’ll be there.”

The way he said those five words, the rough voice, the look, made me believe he meant them—but more than that they meant something more. And whatever they meant, I wasn’t ready to process it sitting in a car with the impending welcome committee waiting on us.

Thankfully, Jameson’s truck and Bobby’s rental pulled in next to Chasin’s Charger, ending our conversation. I started to open the door but stopped when I felt Chasin’s hand wrap around my forearm. I slowly turned my head to look at him.

“Leave everything in the car, I’ll come out and get it in a minute.” I nodded but he didn’t let go. “I’m serious, they get to be too much, tell me and they’re gone.”

“I will.”

Chasin didn’t move but his eyes were actively roaming my face before he found what he was looking for and let me go.

I folded out of the Charger and Bobby met me. “This place is beautiful.”

It was beautiful, and not just the old farmhouse—which incidentally, looked like a dollhouse, though I doubted very much Nixon would appreciate it being described as such, considering he was a man’s man and he’d grown up in the house. All that was missing was the gingerbread trim and the house would straight up be out of a magazine or an episode of an HGTV show on Queen Anne architecture.

The large front porch featured four complicated pillars, painted yellow to match the rest of the trim. The siding was gray, and in any other setting, the color combination would look silly. But it absolutely didn’t look silly on this old farmhouse—it was inspired. The siding looked new and I wondered if McKenna had picked the colors or if they’d hired a designer.

All that was missing were a couple of rocking chairs and hanging ferns. But even missing the chairs and ferns, it was perfect.