It wasn’t slick or rehearsed, and maybe that was why it made her chest tighten. There was no stage in that moment, no lights, no crowd. Just honesty.

  She climbed down from the bed and padded across the wooden floor to where he sat. “That’s dangerous, you know. Writing songs about the person you’re sleeping with.”

  He grinned. “Then I guess I’m a little reckless.”

  She slid onto the cushioned bench beside him. “Play it for me.”

  He hesitated, thumb brushing over the strings. “It’s not finished.”

  “Neither are we.”

  He laughed under his breath, then played. The melody was raw, almost fragile, but the words, rough as they were, cut straight through her:

  She walked in like a fight I didn’t want to win,

  Turned the noise down low, let the truth crawl in.

  I’d been chasing storms just to feel alive,

  ’Til she looked my way, and I learned to survive.

  By the time he stopped, her eyes burned. “Jami…”

  He set the guitar down. “I told you last night I wanted you with me. I meant it. In every way that counts.”

  Carlene pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady beat under her palm. “You don’t make it easy to stay professional.”

  “I don’t want easy.” His voice lowered, rough around the edges. “I want real. And you're sitting in my bedroom, wearing my shirt with nothing on underneath it. That's not professional either. But it's real.”

  Their lips met again, slower this time, not the rush of stolen moments, but the promise of something they both knew they’d been avoiding for too long. The kiss deepened, lingered, until the outside world disappeared.

  When she finally pulled back, breathless, she whispered, “That song is beautiful. When it's finished, it'll be a hit.”

  He smiled, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. “I think so too. You were right, you know. I had pulled away from the feelings in my music.”

  She laughed and leaned her forehead against his. “While I know what it must have cost you to admit that, I'm so happy you can feel it for yourself.”

  His slow grin did more to excite her than many things in her life. "It didn't cost me anything."

  Jami's phone rang. He inhaled deeply, then pulled it off the windowsill and answered it.

  "Hart."

  "It's Tony. You and Carlene need to see the headlines right now on Music Mag."

  Jami looked at Carlene. "Music Mag has a big headline right now."

  She hurried around the bed to her side and pulled her phone off the nightstand. Quickly typing in Music Mag, she stared at her phone as it populated with the headline.

  EXCLUSIVE: Hart & The Hurricanes vs. Summit Sound — Who Owns the Truth?

  Carlene’s stomach dropped as she read the smaller text beneath the image. Vivian Grant’s smiling face appeared beside Jami’s. The article quoted “insider sources” suggesting that Jami had violated confidentiality clauses and accusing him of “instigating internal rebellion.”

  Her pulse quickened. “They didn’t waste time.”

  Jami tapped the speaker icon on his phone. Tony exhaled sharply. “It’s all over the entertainment feeds. Every outlet picked it up within the hour.”

  Jami’s jaw tightened. “Vivian must have leaked it.”

  Carlene scanned her phone further. The article twisted everything, painted her as a manipulative PR consultant “encouraging division” and hinted at a “personal entanglement compromising professional integrity.”

  “They’re coming after both of us.”

  He met her eyes, calm but fierce. “Then we go louder.”

  Tony responded. “You sure about that?”

  Jami nodded. “Yeah. I’m done hiding. Let them see who we really are.”

  He turned to Carlene, his hand finding hers. “You said something last night, about leaning into it.”

  She nodded slowly. “I did.”

  “Then let’s lean in,” he said to Tony. “Get a camera crew. We’re filming something.”

  Tony grinned. “You’re serious.”

  “Dead serious.”

  Carlene’s mind raced, switching from panic to purpose. “We’ll set up on the stage, natural light. Honest. No edits. No cuts. Just you talking to the fans.”

  Jami squeezed her hand. “And you beside me.”

  Her throat tightened. “Jami…”

  He shook his head. “No hiding. You fought for us. They need to see that.”

  For a moment, she couldn’t speak. Then she nodded. “Okay.”

  By late afternoon, the barn transformed into a small studio. The cameras rolled. The band stood behind Jami, quiet but united. Carlene sat beside him, her heartbeat steadying as the red light blinked to life.

  Jami looked into the lens. “I’ve always said our music belongs to the people who listen, not the people who sell it. Somewhere along the way, that got lost. We’re taking it back. Together.”

  He turned, taking Carlene’s hand. “This is Carlene Matthews. She stood by us when others tried to tear us apart. She’s family now.”

  The words caught in her chest. Family.

  He faced the camera again. “We’re Hart & The Hurricanes. We’re still here. And we’re not done. We're supposed to have our first record drop next week. Our record label, Summit Sound, has been manipulating our news feeds and stirring up drama. The only thing we've lied about..." He looked into her eyes once more, then turned back to the camera. “Was the photo of Carlene and me walking on the beach. At the time of that photo op, we weren't a couple. We fabricated a romantic moment because Carlene thought I had detached emotionally from my music, and that you saw that." He turned to her again, that smile...the one that made the women go wild, he bestowed it upon her. He lifted the joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "But now, it's true. We are a couple, and I'm not at all unhappy about that. We stand for truth and honesty, and that's what I'm giving you. From this moment moving forward, if you see something that doesn't come directly from me, or one of my bandmates here..." He pointed behind him. "Then assume it's not true. Join our newsletter, which can be found on my website, and you'll hear only the truth about us and what's happening in our lives. Anything from Summit Sound, unless also shared by us, is not true."

  When the feed ended, the barn fell silent except for the sound of her heartbeat.

  Tony finally grinned. “That’ll shake the industry.”

  Sean let out a low whistle. “You sure you’re ready for the fallout?”

  Jami looked at Carlene. “As long as she’s beside me, yeah. I’m ready.”

  Carlene squeezed his hand, the spark between them stronger than fear.

  Because for the first time, this wasn’t about contracts or headlines.

  It was about freedom.

  And maybe, if they were lucky, about forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  His phone hadn’t stopped vibrating. Every few seconds, another notification lit the screen, a steady stream of messages that blurred together until the sound felt like static in his chest.

  By the time the camera crew packed up and left, the barn buzzed with quiet chaos. Everyone talked at once, half-excited, half-concerned.

  Sean leaned against a speaker, phone in hand. “We’re everywhere. Hashtags, clips, reaction videos. People are calling it the most honest thing a band’s done in years.”

  Tony rubbed the back of his neck. “The industry’s either gonna hate us or start a revolution. I hope it's the latter.”

  “Probably both,” Axel said, his tone dry.

  Maddyn elbowed him lightly and smiled. “If you're going to start Hart Records, it's great press for the new label. You'll encourage other artists to do the same. Get out from under an oppressive label.”

  Jami sat on the edge of the stage, phone in one hand, the weight of what they’d just done settling on him like a familiar chord, heavy, resonant, right.

  Across the room, Carlene stood by the mixing console, her focus sharp as she scanned the data on her laptop. Her brow furrowed, mouth set in that determined line he recognized.

  He pushed up and walked toward her. “Tell me something good.”

  She turned the screen so he could see. “Engagement’s through the roof. Eighty percent positive sentiment. And...” She looked up at him, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes. “...you just hit number one on trending worldwide.”

  He blinked. “Seriously?”

  Tony laughed from behind them. “Brother, you broke the internet. Again.”

  Livia crossed the studio, notebook in hand. “Before we celebrate, we need to plan for the other shoe. Summit will strike back.”

  Carlene nodded. “She’s right. Vivian doesn’t lose quietly.”

  Sean pocketed his phone. “Let her talk. The fans have already picked a side.”

  Jami met Carlene’s eyes. “Do you think she’ll try legal first or public?”

  “Both,” she said without hesitation. “She’ll stall your record drop and leak another story to shift the narrative. Maybe something about the band imploding.”

  Axel folded his arms. “Then we stay loud.”

  Carlene’s gaze softened, pride glinting through the exhaustion. “We stay united.”

  Jami felt it again, that pull toward her, the way she steadied him even when the ground shook. He reached for her hand, the gesture subtle but grounding. “You good?”

  She gave a faint smile. “Right now, I’m good. But ask again tomorrow.”

  He laughed quietly. “Agreed.”

  Tony’s phone buzzed. He answered, paced, and nodded a few times before hanging up. “Our attorney is drafting the breach notice. He’s confident. Says Summit crossed every line that matters.”

  Livia arched a brow. “Which means Vivian’s going to be furious.”

  “Let her be,” Jami said, his tone calm, certain. “What they've done isn't okay.”

  Sean grinned. “That’s the rock star I know.”

  Carlene slipped her hand free to close her laptop. “You should rest. You’ve had three interviews and a live broadcast in less than twelve hours.”

  He tilted his head. “You sound like my manager.”

  “More like someone who doesn’t want you collapsing before this war even starts.”

  He reached out, brushing his fingers against her arm. "I'm happy you're here with me."

  She looked up, meeting his gaze. “Thank you.”

  That did something to him, deeper than a lyric, sharper than applause. He swallowed the words he wanted to say, the ones that felt too big for right now, and instead kissed her forehead.

  The others drifted out one by one until only they remained. The barn grew quiet again, soft light spilling from string lights above.

  Carlene leaned against the railing, arms folded. “You realize you just told millions of people we’re together.”

  He smiled. “Was I wrong?”

  Her lips curved slightly. “No. Just...brave.”

  He stepped closer, close enough to see the reflection of the string lights in her eyes. “Feels good to stop hiding.”

  “It does.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But it also makes us a target.”

  “I know.” He rested his hands on her hips, anchoring her to him. “It also makes us a team. We’ll give them something worth watching.”

  She exhaled slowly, the sound brushing against his chest. "It sounds effortless the way you say it."

  “It’s not. But neither is love, nor music, nor trying to do the right thing.” He traced his thumb along her jaw. “I've spent my life and built my career on honesty and integrity. I'll fight to the bitter end to save my reputation, and with you by my side, we're unstoppable.”

  Her gaze searched his. “So what now?”

  “Now we wait for the storm and keep making music.”

  For a long moment, they stood there, the world outside the barn slipping away. Then he kissed her. Slow, sure, the kind that felt like an anchor dropped in open water.

  When they finally parted, she looked up at him, her voice soft. “You’re sure about this? About us? If we break up, it's another scandal.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, Carlene. I've been married before, and it didn't work out. I'd decided after my divorce that I was married to my music. She's been my mistress for years. It was you who said I was disconnected from her. Initially, your boldness irritated me. Now I see you're right. Music isn't the only thing in life. Mine or anyone else's. My bandmates have proven that."

  Carlene’s eyes glimmered, and she swallowed. “Jami...”

  He touched his forehead to hers. “You scare me, though.”

  "You scare me, too."

  Outside, the night hummed with distant sounds: waves against the shore, crickets in the grass, a world still spinning while theirs stood still.

  Jami had spent years chasing applause, chasing meaning through noise. But standing here with her, with his band solid at his back, a fight waiting on the horizon, and a new direction with the band and life, he finally understood what it meant to feel alive.

  Taking Carlene's hand in his, he led them out of the barn door, locking it behind them. Continuing with her by his side, he did what he'd wanted to do earlier. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tightly to his body. They strode together to the house. Before they reached the steps, he chuckled, "You should check out of the hotel and move your things here."

  She stopped and turned toward him. "What? Really?"

  "You're here all the time anyway. We've moved our relationship from professional to personal, so you’ll save money and time by not running back to town. Plus, I'd really love for you to be here. Let's see how this works for us."

  He watched her eyes as she thought about what he said. What it meant for them. It wasn't like she was actually moving in with him. All she had at the hotel was a couple of weeks' worth of clothing, toiletries, and shoes. Her laptop was here. She swallowed the knot in her throat.

  "Okay." It was a leap of faith, but she felt ready to take it.

  "You want to do it now?"

  Her chest rose with the inhaled breath. "Sure, let's do it now."

  He leaned in and kissed her lips. Taking her hand, he led her to his truck and helped her inside.

  Pulling into the hotel parking lot, he chuckled. "Back in the day, my friends and I used to run around behind the hotel at night and act like ghosts. We tried to frighten the people staying here, convincing them the place was haunted.”

  "Jami. You were a brat."

  "I wasn't a brat. I was precocious and fun." He chuckled. "Plus, no one believed we were really ghosts anyway."

  She shook her head and opened the door. "Hang tight," he reminded her.

  Moving from his side of the truck to hers as quickly as possible, he opened her door with a flourish and held his hand out for her. She took his hand, a grin on her face. "Thank you. You're always such a gentleman."

  "My mama would box my ears if I wasn’t a gentleman."

  "Is she still alive?"

  He took a deep breath and shook his head. "No. Both she and my dad are gone. They're buried out of town at the Lutheran Church Cemetery. It's just me now."

  "No siblings?"

  "No siblings."

  They strode through the lobby and took the stairs to her room. Inside, he closed the door behind them, and Carlene began packing up her things. She brushed past him twice, going from the bathroom to the suitcase on the bed. The second time, he reached out and stopped her.

  He kissed her lips softly, then almost instantly, his kiss deepened. He pulled away only long enough to husk out, "Let's take advantage of the hotel's bed."

  She chuckled. "You're terrible."

  He picked her up and carried her to the bed without a suitcase on it and said, "I promise you I'm not. I'm actually very good at this part."

  He laid her on the bed and quickly picked up her left foot. His hands roamed her leg, then he pulled her shoe off. His strong fingers massaged the ball of her foot. She groaned loudly. "That's sexy."

  He chuckled. "If you say so."

  He continued massaging and then pulled off the other shoe, giving that foot equal attention. Her moans were cute. He loved that she enjoyed his attention. He loved that he could give her attention. His fingers froze a moment at the thought. His heartbeat sped up, and his throat dried. Why did loving someone bring such fear?

  He slid his hands up her legs until he reached the junction where they met. His thumbs added pressure, and her hips rose into his hands. Ahh, she liked that. His fingers drifted to the button at her waist and opened it. Sliding the zipper down, he let his fingers brush her bare skin. He tugged her slacks down her legs, then reached up and pulled her panties down, dropping them on the pile of fabric on the floor.

  Slowly, he crawled up her body, planting kisses on her inner thighs. When he reached her core, he let his tongue swirl through her soft curls until he found her clit. She moaned, and he added pressure.

  Her hips lifted as he suckled and teased her. Sliding his hands under her ass, he pulled her to the end of the bed, then knelt between her legs. He slid his forefinger into her soft, warm channel, and she rewarded him with soft sighs and appreciative moans. Her hands slid into his hair and tugged slightly.

  She tasted like heaven. Sweet and warm. Inhaling her scent, he closed his eyes and committed it to memory. Her fingers dug into his scalp, her legs wrapped around his shoulders, and her passionate sounds filled the air, better than any melody he'd ever heard.

  Sucking her into his mouth, he flicked his tongue over her clit and enjoyed her body's response. "Jami." She breathed. "I'm..." Repeating that movement once more, she froze and moaned loudly. He softened his movements and switched to light kisses over her clit. As she relaxed, he kissed his way up her body, taking great care to offer each of her beautiful breasts equal attention.

  His lips mapped her skin; neck, jaw, lips; each kiss a quiet promise. Sliding an arm beneath her, he lifted her higher until she was beneath him, open and waiting. The heat of her body called to him, and when he looked into her eyes, he saw trust, longing, everything he hadn’t known he needed.