Page 47 of Chasin’s Surrender

Who could be mad at that?

“Come on. Let me introduce you.”

I nodded my agreement and sucked in a breath. I was preparing to put my Vivi Rush face on when Chasin leaned in closer.

“Drop the act, honey. You are not Vivi here. You’re just you. You don’t have to pretend.”

It was a good thing I’d sucked in a breath because now I wasn’t breathing at all and I wasn’t sure if the lights had been dimmed or if my vision was tunneling. What I did know was, no one other than Bobby recognized when I was getting ready to put on a show. And no one, including Bobby, had ever called me on it. Bobby didn’t do it because when I was with her, Vivi only came out when necessary. But no one else had ever noticed there was a very big difference between just me and Vivi.

“How’d you know?” I whispered.

“Babe. You’re not hard to read.”

He was wrong.

“Yes, I am. No one but Bobby can tell the difference.”

“Then either everyone else in your life is blind, plain stupid, or you’ve never given them the real you. Because there is no missing the change.”

Holy shit.

The real you.

He saw the change.

“Just you, yeah?” he prompted.

“Yeah, just me.”

Chasin’s eyes warmed, and I swear, he was looking at me like he was proud of me.

What was that about?

But that’s what it looked like, and when he bent down and kissed my forehead, it sure as shit felt that way, too.

Maybe giving Chasin a second chance wasn’t a good idea.

I was already half in love with him again. Another maneuver like that, and I’d fall ass over tea kettle and be in big, big trouble.

15

Jesus fuck.

Chasin couldn’t get the way Genevieve had looked at him out of his mind. How good she’d felt pressed up against him. Whether she wanted to or not, the two of them were having another conversation. One that would end with her in his bed this time.

Bobby’s laugh drew his gaze to the women sitting around the table but his eyes settled on Genevieve. She was smiling at Lola Lane, Kennedy’s mom. The old biddy was a riot, her caretaker just as hilarious.

“Mom!” Kennedy snapped.

“What? Maryland is south of the Mason-Dixon, darlin’, we are Southerners. And any good Southern woman knows you never have company over without a pitcher of sweet tea. Lemonade at the very least. Maybe some deviled eggs or fried okra. How will Genevieve and Bobby know they’re welcome with cheese and crackers and cans of soda?” Lola huffed.

“I’m canceling her subscription to Southern Living,” Kennedy murmured.

“Miss Lola,” Genevieve started, and Chasin didn’t miss the Tennessee accent was thicker. “Just to let you know, I’m not keen on fried okra. I have to choke it down, just so I don’t get kicked out of Tennessee. Me and Bobby feel welcome just with y’all being here. We don’t need anyone to go through any trouble. And if I’m here long enough, I’ll have you back and make you some of my tea, if we’re lucky I’ll talk Bobby into cookin’ something special.”

“Christ,” Holden mumbled next to Chasin, and he turned to look at his friend to find him staring at Genevieve.

“What?”