Page 49 of Chasin’s Surrender

“That was my point,” Alec defended.

“You’re missing my point. Vivi Rush might be a lot of things to her fans. But that woman sitting over there is Genevieve. She gives us the real her and in turn, we make it safe for her to continue to do so. She’s not a country music superstar when she is in this house.”

“Not sure there’s a difference,” Alec muttered.

“There is, and when you get to know her, you’ll see it. She doesn’t hide it, though she thinks she does. That day you met her in the office, that was Vivi Rush, full armor—sass and attitude. That woman over there talking with Macy, Kennedy, Lola, Micky, and Silver, bouncing Jossy on her lap, that’s Genevieve. She’s forced to live two lives, but while she’s here, she won’t be.”

Chasin didn’t miss Bobby’s approach, he just didn’t stop himself from saying what he needed to say. Genevieve had enough going on with some dimwit fucker terrorizing her life; she didn’t need anyone treating her like she was out of place.

“You get it,” Bobby whispered.

“Yeah, I get it,” Chasin confirmed.

“Good.”

That one soft word from Bobby held a fuckload of meaning. She didn’t mean ‘good’ in the sense that Chasin got it. What she meant was she was pleased as fuck someone saw Genevieve Ellison for the beautiful, funny, smart woman she was, and not dollar signs and fame.

Chasin had no interest in either. He had his own money, not as much as her but he was comfortable and would be that way even if he retired today and never worked another day. He also didn’t want any part of Vivi’s music career. He just wanted Genevieve. But considering Alec was partially correct, she was one woman with two personas. He’d have to accept who she was to the world.

He figured if he had his Genevieve at his side and in his bed, he could easily stand by Vivi when she gave herself to the world.

“That wasn’t that bad, was it?” Chasin asked after Nixon and Micky, the last two to leave, drove away.

“You were right. They’re totally nosy, didn’t hide they were prying, and did it unabashedly. But they’re awesome. Kennedy’s coming over tomorrow.”

Chasin had watched Genevieve carefully throughout the day. He knew she’d smiled a lot, laughed a lot, was gentle with Aurora and Jocelyn. She’d talked with Caleb, who at twelve knew who she was and couldn’t hide how cool it was to be in her presence, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She’d even drawn him a picture and signed it. At which time he announced the picture would be framed and hung in his room. Genevieve had laughed, kissed the kid on the cheek, and told him he was sweet. Chasin figured Alec and Macy were going to have one hell of a time getting him to shower—he’d looked like he wanted to keep that kiss on his cheek forever.

But through all of that, Chasin was still worried she was overwhelmed and putting on a front, though he hadn’t seen even a hint of Vivi come out.

Kennedy coming back over didn’t surprise him—the woman was pathologically friendly—but he still asked, “Kennedy?”

“Yeah. She’s bringing us over some homemade honey and stewed tomatoes. I cannot wait. She also told me she’d teach me how to make jam. I guess there’s mulberries on the farm and they should be ripe, she said they make good preserves. But we’ll have to wait until September for the dewberries. She said those are the best.”

Chasin wasn’t sure what to process first: the fact that she was talking about making jam, which, unbeknownst to him, was a goddamn turn-on; the use of the word ‘us’ that he hoped like fuck included him and not just Bobby; or that she’d said she’d have to wait until September, which was months away, to pick dewberries—whatever the hell those were. Chasin didn’t give two shits about the berries, but he cared greatly about her still being there in September.

He decided not to bring that up and freak her out. What he did do was file it away for later.

“I’ve had her stewed tomatoes and they’re good.” Chasin glanced around the living room and asked, “Where’s Bobby?”

“She went to take her makeup off so she probably won’t come back down.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s taking her makeup off,” Genevieve repeated like he was a halfwit.

“And?”

“And Bobby doesn’t do naked.”

“Come again?”

“What part aren’t you getting?” Genevieve teased.

“The part where she won’t come downstairs without makeup on. And I’m unclear what naked has to do with anything because I’d sure as shit hope the woman wouldn’t parade around the house without clothes on.”

Chasin’s gaze stayed glued on Genevieve as she bit her lip. Then losing the battle, her face split in a bright smile.

Sweet Christ.