“Not exactly. But she’s still a senior partner, and we need her on our side until the tour’s clear.”

  “Do we?”

  She met his eyes. “Yes. This is business, Jami. Whatever’s happening, we can’t afford to alienate her.”

  He studied her, trying to read the truth behind the words. Her calm voice couldn’t hide the flicker of nerves she tried to bury.

  “You don’t trust her,” he said quietly.

  She gave a half laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t trust anyone. That’s my problem.”

  He wanted to pull her close, to tell her she didn’t have to keep doing this alone, but the look she gave him stopped him cold. It was that same mix of strength and vulnerability that had wrecked him from the start.

  “Carlene?” he said finally.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Carlene.”

  She looked up again, softer this time. “I’ll call you.”

  He nodded. “Good. I'm happy to join you. I'll be your moral support.”

  "Jami. We can't..."

  He leaned in and kissed her lips. He didn't want to hear that they couldn't do anything. He'd already decided. That thought slammed into his heart, and his stomach flipped. He'd decided.

  Her lips shook slightly. Her fingers slid into the nape of his head and held him. He could feel the shaking in her fingers. It matched his. His breathing was stilted as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

  Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along hers. His heart pounded in his chest.

  She pulled away slightly, and her name slipped from his lips. "Carlene."

  "Jami. This is getting far too personal."

  "No, it hasn't. It's already gotten there. It's personal for me. You've slipped beneath my skin, Carlene. I think it's personal for you, too."

  "But..."

  "But what? We're adults, Carlene."

  He watched her throat as she swallowed the emotion he knew lay at the surface. Her eyes glistened in the waning sunlight. She stared into his eyes. "But..."

  "What will it take for me to break through those walls, Carlene? We want each other."

  Her chest rose as she inhaled deeply. He took the moment to kiss her again. This time, their kiss deepened quickly. Her hands roamed his chest, his back, his shoulders. His hands, in return, pulled her body close to him, removing any space between them. His body roared to life, and he pulled her into him solidly so she could feel what was happening.

  She moaned from deep in her chest. A car drove into the parking lot, and he stopped groping at her as the realization slammed into him that they were out in public and behaving in a way that gave anyone driving by the opportunity to confirm the rumors they'd so carefully planted.

  He lifted his head and stared into her gorgeous eyes. "Shit."

  She smiled softly. "That was quite unprofessional of me."

  "Fuck that, Carlene. This isn't about professionalism anymore. This is about two adults confirming the feelings that have been growing between them."

  The occupants of the car strode past them at a distance, grinning like kids who'd won a bag of candy.

  Carlene stepped back. "I have to go meet Vivan. I'll call you when it's over and I get back."

  "Come to the farm."

  "Jami, you know where that will lead."

  "I certainly do."

  She swallowed. A soft smile creased her lips, and she inhaled deeply. "Okay. I'll come to the farm."

  He nodded and swallowed the knot in his throat. His brows creased as he tried to be clever with his comments.

  She chuckled. “Don’t worry, Jami,” she said, her tone light but her eyes uncertain. “I can handle Vivian.”

  He didn’t believe that for a second, but he forced a small grin anyway. “Yeah. I know.”

  She drove off, taillights glowing red against the pavement until they disappeared around the curve.

  Jami stayed there for a while, listening to the crickets. Something in his gut twisted tighter with every passing second.

  Carlene was walking straight into something, and he knew it. He pulled out his keys and climbed into his truck.

  His phone rang and he pushed the button on his steering wheel. "Hey, Tony. What's up?"

  “Where are you?” Tony asked.

  “In the truck, on the way to dinner.”

  Tony sighed. “You don’t even know where she’s meeting Vivian.”

  “It's not like there are many options here in town. The logical place is the Sandbar.”

  He turned onto Hospital Road and quickly made the left onto Sunset Beach Road. He didn’t know what he’d say when he found her, but he knew one thing for sure.

  If Vivian wanted a private meeting tonight, it wasn’t to offer Carlene congratulations, and he'd be there for her, no matter what.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Carlene parked in front of the Sandbar and took a deep breath before getting out of the car. The low thrum of music from inside mixed with the crash of waves against the nearby shore landed in her belly. It should have relaxed her, but her nerves were too tense. And it was impossible to deny her attraction to Jami any longer. Somewhere between his arriving at her hotel and his kiss, she'd realized she didn't want to deny it any longer. If they had to part eventually, at least she'd have this time with him. This memory to carry with her.

  She smoothed her hands down her slacks, adjusted the strap of her bag, and squared her shoulders. She could still taste Jami’s kiss, feel the heat of his hands on her skin. The memory made her pulse jump, but she pushed it aside. Whatever Vivian wanted tonight, it would not be pleasant, and she needed to be in her right mind.

  Inside, soft lighting illuminated the restaurant, and most of the dinner crowd sat outside on the patio, enjoying the beautiful Florida evening. A few locals lingered at the bar, their laughter echoing off the wooden beams. The hostess greeted her with a polite smile.

  “Reservation for Vivian Carr,” Carlene said.

  “Right this way.”

  Vivian was already seated in a booth, looking out the large window at the water, with her sleek blond hair perfectly arranged and a glass of white wine in front of her. She looked every bit the part of a power player pretending to relax.

  “Carlene,” she said smoothly, standing to kiss the air beside her cheek. “You look exhausted, but in that chic, overworked way.”

  Carlene smiled faintly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Vivian gestured to the seat across from her. “Sit. You’ve earned a real meal.”

  Carlene slid into the booth. A waiter appeared almost instantly, took her order, and vanished. Vivian wasted no time.

  “You’ve done impressive work,” she began. “The livestream was a success. The label’s thrilled. And Jami… well, he’s the kind of artist who shines under pressure. You’ve brought that out of him.”

  Carlene forced a polite smile. “It’s a team effort.”

  “Of course.” Vivian took a slow sip of wine. “But let’s not pretend you don’t stand out. Your name’s being mentioned around the executive table. They like your control, your polish. And they appreciate that you know when to step back and let the story write itself.”

  That last sentence made Carlene’s stomach tighten. “Meaning?”

  Vivian tilted her head. “Meaning, sometimes the best PR move isn’t to clean up every mess, but to let a little chaos play out. Conflict keeps the public interested. The band’s visibility has spiked since the leak. You can’t buy engagement like that.”

  Carlene’s glass froze halfway to her mouth. “Are you saying the leak was intentional?”

  Vivian’s smile didn’t falter. “I’m saying it worked. The attention is valuable, and the numbers speak for themselves.”

  Carlene set her glass down. “That kind of strategy damages reputations. It damages trust.”

  Vivian leaned forward, her tone still smooth but colder now. “It builds legends. You’ve been in this business long enough to know the truth: nobody cares about perfection. They care about stories. Struggle sells. Redemption sells. And right now, Hart & The Hurricanes are more interesting than they’ve been in years.”

  Carlene felt heat rise in her chest. “You can’t justify sabotage for a marketing angle.”

  Vivian gave a small, dismissive laugh. “Sabotage is such a harsh word. Let’s call it controlled narrative direction.”

  Carlene’s jaw clenched. “You put people’s careers at risk. You blindsided an entire team.”

  “You fixed it,” Vivian said simply. “And that’s why you’re valuable. Because you can turn a scandal into an opportunity. Which is exactly why the label wants to talk about your next move.”

  Carlene’s voice was quiet now, the anger edged with disbelief. “You’re serious?”

  Vivian’s eyes glittered. “Completely. There’s talk of a full-time position, corporate strategy, media relations, and real influence. No more freelance projects. No more uncertainty.”

  Carlene stared at her. “And what would that cost me?”

  Vivian’s smile widened. “Just your loyalty. Don’t dig where you don’t need to. Let the narrative play out. The band gets its spotlight. You get your seat at the table. Everyone wins.”

  Carlene leaned back, the sound of the waves outside growing louder in her ears. She realized then that Vivian wasn’t offering her an opportunity. She was delivering a warning.

  “I’ll think about it,” Carlene said evenly.

  Vivian’s gaze sharpened, sensing the lie but letting it pass. “Do that. The board meets next week. I’d like to present your name before then.”

  The waiter returned, bringing their meals. Vivian smiled again, polished and perfect.

  “Congratulations, Carlene. You’ve proven yourself indispensable.”

  Carlene managed a polite thank-you and stood. The night air hit her like a splash of cold water when she stepped outside. She walked toward her car, her thoughts racing. Her access to the servers, the praise, the silence, all of it connected now.

  The label hadn’t been cleaning up Reed & Carr’s mess. They’d been orchestrating it.

  Her hands shook as she unlocked the car. Jami’s truck was parked across the street, his familiar silhouette just visible behind the windshield. The sight of him steadied her, even as a mix of fear and anger burned in her chest. He stepped from his truck and sauntered toward her.

  He’d been right not to trust this.

  She took one last look at the restaurant, where Vivian sat framed in the window, still smiling like she’d won.

  Not yet, Carlene thought.

  Jami stopped in front of her. "Everything okay?"

  She swallowed the knot in her throat. "It's okay."

  "Just okay?"

  She took a deep breath. "Can we talk about it later?"

  "Yes. Are you coming to the farm?"

  She stared into his eyes. The dark brown was impossibly dark in the dim lighting. He was handsome, strong, and so sexy. She smiled softly. "Yeah. I'm coming to the farm."

  He leaned in and kissed her, then opened her car door and waited for her to get in. He closed her door securely and tapped the roof twice. She waited for him to saunter across the road to his truck before she started her car. He climbed inside and started his truck, then slowly pulled away, clearly sure she'd follow. She did.

  Whatever happened next, she wasn’t going to face it alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jami pulled into the long gravel drive, headlights sweeping over the dark stretch of palm trees before the house came into view. He parked near the porch, killed the engine, and waited until Carlene’s car rolled to a stop behind him.

  When she stepped out, she looked smaller than usual, the faint porch light catching the tension in her shoulders. She crossed her arms like she was cold, though the night was warm.

  He met her halfway. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Her nod was small. “I will be.”

  That wasn’t good enough for him. “Carlene.”

  She looked up, and in that one glance, he saw everything she wasn’t saying: anger, disbelief, and something that looked like guilt.

  “Come inside,” he said gently. “You look like you could use a drink.”

  She didn’t argue.

  Inside, the house smelled like cedar and coffee. He poured two glasses of bourbon and handed her one. She took a small sip, staring at the glass before setting it on the counter.

  “I met with Vivian,” she said finally.

  He leaned against the island, watching her carefully. “And?”

  “She confirmed it.”

  He froze. “Confirmed what?”

  “That the leak wasn’t an accident. The label orchestrated it.”

  The words hit him like a punch. He’d suspected, but hearing it out loud made his stomach twist. “They used Reed & Carr as a cover.”

  She nodded. “They wanted the conflict. They think chaos sells. She called it ‘controlled narrative direction.’”

  He swore under his breath. “So they sabotaged us. And you.”

  “They called it marketing.” She gave a humorless laugh. “Apparently, my ability to clean up their mess makes me valuable. She offered me a job.”

  He blinked. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I were. Corporate strategy, media relations, full-time. Real influence.” She met his gaze. “On one condition: I don’t dig deeper.”

  Jami’s jaw clenched. “So they’re trying to buy your silence.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  He moved closer. “What did you tell her?”

  “That I’d think about it.”

  He searched her eyes. “You’re not actually considering it.”

  Her voice softened. “No. But I had to get out of there with some leverage.”

  He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I knew something was off. I could feel it.”

  Carlene nodded slowly. “They’re erasing the trail, Jami. Bret’s access is gone. Mine too. The files I pulled last night might be all that’s left.”

  “Then we protect them,” he said firmly. “Whatever they’re planning, they don’t get to bury the truth.”

  Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. Instead, she said quietly, “They could ruin both of us.”

  He stepped closer. “Let them try.”

  The air between them thickened. She stood so close he could see the faint smudge of mascara beneath her eyes, the exhaustion in her expression, the strength she was barely holding on to.

  “You don’t have to keep fighting alone,” he said, voice low.

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. “You keep saying that.”

  “Because you still don’t believe it.”

  For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sound of the air conditioner turning on filled the background, soft and steady. Then she whispered, “You make it hard to think straight.”

  “Good.”

  He lifted his hand, tracing a loose strand of hair from her face. She didn’t pull away. The silence stretched, charged and fragile.

  Finally, she stepped back, pressing her hands against the counter to steady herself. “If we’re going to do this, we need proof before they erase everything. Tomorrow, I’ll start cross-referencing their PR timestamps with the upload data. If I can match internal logs, it’ll show they planted the altered clip.”

  He nodded. “Tell me what to do.”

  Her eyes softened. “Just keep being who you are. You’re the reason this works, Jami. People believe you.”

  He smiled faintly. “I’m starting to believe in a few things myself.”

  She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth curved. “You’re impossible.”

  “And you’re worth it.”

  Her breath caught. She looked down, her hands gripping the counter, then glanced back up. “You should get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be rough.”

  He shook his head. “Not before you do.”

  “Jami—”

  “I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”

  Something in his tone silenced her protest. After a long moment, she gave a small nod. “Okay.”

  He reached for her hand. “Come on. You can take the guest room.”

  As they strolled slowly toward the bedroom, she stopped. He turned to her, his brows furrowed.

  "I don't want to sleep in the guest room."

  He swallowed the knot in his throat. "I don't want you to either."

  He kissed her lips quickly, then took her hand and turned her in the direction of his bedroom. He stepped inside, turned on the lights, and pulled her in behind him. The soft glow of the lamps alongside the bed made the massive wooden bed in the center of the far wall look warm and inviting. She stood staring at it for a moment. "That's beautiful."

  Grinning, he nodded. "I had it made by a man in town. I love that it looks old, like this house, but it's new. It fits perfectly."

  "It does."

  Jami turned to face her, his hands held either side of her face, and he stared into her eyes. He realized in that moment that he'd become used to her incredible brown eyes staring into his. He looked forward to seeing her each morning. Her silent strength and incredible resilience spoke to him in ways he'd never have been able to put into words just a week ago. All the love songs he'd sung in his life. All the love stories he'd witnessed in his life had not prepared him for this moment. How could a man be in his forties and have never felt this pull, this connection with a woman until now? It didn't make sense to him at all.

  He leaned in and kissed her lips. Softly at first. Testing and tasting her at his leisure. Her hands slid up his abdomen, then around to his back, and it felt as though she were blazing a trail along his skin. His fingers began undoing the buttons on her blouse. He took his time, though he didn't want to. This would be their first time, and he wanted to always remember it as a tender, beautiful moment.

  Her fingers began unbuttoning his jeans. Slowly sliding her blouse over her shoulders, he reluctantly urged her to drop her arms long enough to remove it from her body. He reached behind her and laid it on the dresser. Enjoying the way she looked in her pink satin bra, her skin tanned slightly, her breasts full and shapely, he grinned. "Had I known you were wearing that sexy bra today, it would have been impossible to keep my hands to myself."