Crazy Love - Krista & Chase (26 page)

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Authors: Melanie Shawn

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romantic Comedy, #Literary Fiction, #Series, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Crazy Love - Krista & Chase
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Both Haley and Krista watched their sister drive away through the window as Jessie walked back into the house.

“You need to tell Mom and Dad that you’re staying. And we should all go out and celebrate,” Haley said excitedly.

Jessie looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language. “Celebrate what?”

“You moving home. Your new job.”

“I’ll tell Mom and Dad at the parade today. But if we all go to dinner, it’s not going to be for my new job or that I’m moving home.” Jessie walked upstairs, indicating that the subject was closed.

“Oh shoot!” Haley jumped as she looked at her watch and headed towards the door. “I promised Em that I’d do her hair for the parade. What time are you working the booth?”

“Eleven to two,” Krista said.

“Okay. I saw the layout for the booths and I think you guys are going to be set up right in front of Tempting, so I’ll see you then.”

A melancholy feeling welled up inside of her when she found herself alone. She sat, slowly sinking down on the couch. It had only been an hour since she’d left Chase and already she was missing him like crazy. Actually, she was missing Chase and Bear, who was back at his own home since that was where Krista was spending her nights. Everything that was happening between them felt right, but neither of them had brought up the future or what either of them saw in it. Krista was pretty sure Chase—who normally liked to talk about everything—was mum on the subject for the same exact reason she was. They were too busy enjoying the present and catching up on the years they’d been apart. Once the subject of where they saw this going came up, the present could get ruined.

She was being a chickenshit and so was Chase. They needed to talk…out of bed. No matter how unappealing that sounded.

Chapter Nineteen

C
hase was using the short walk with Bear from his mom’s place to the firehouse, where he was meeting Alex, to clear his head. It was a beautiful day. Perfect for the parade.

The temperature was eighty degrees. Not too hot. Not too cold. There was a gentle breeze blowing in the air, acting as nature’s house fan. He looked over at the rolling green hills, which were spotted with yellow and orange flowers, hoping that the peaceful, picturesque setting would ease some of his stress and tension.

It didn’t.

He’d just gotten off the phone with representatives at his record label, who had informed him that he had only two weeks to finish his album. Just as he was going to tell them that the album would be finished when it was finished and not a minute before, no matter what timeline they wanted, they added that he was legally obligated to deliver a completed album in the timeframe they’d laid out.

He’d called bullshit and they then forwarded him a signed (by Marcus) copy of his contract where it clearly stated what they’d just relayed to him on the conference call. When he’d hung up with the label, he immediately called Marcus, but the little prick wasn’t answering. He was such a weasel. Chase wanted to kick his own ass for letting such a conniving piece of shit have any legal access to him and his career.

When Marcus didn’t pick up, the next person Chase put a call into was his lawyer. He needed to fire Marcus and he needed to do it now. His first instinct when his soon-to-be ex-manager hadn’t answered the call was to leave some choice words for him ending in the line Donald Trump had made famous—“
You’re fired.
” But that would have been reacting out of emotion, and this was business. He needed to do this through the proper channels so that he didn’t end up paying that lowlife a penny more than he had to once his employment was dissolved.

Chase had heard horror stories of managers getting fired for doing shady things and the artist ending up paying out for years to come. That was not going to happen here. His lawyer assured him that since Marcus had overstepped his authority not once, but twice, he was in breach of contract, therefore Chase had grounds for termination.

All of that would have been bad enough, but Chase was also dealing with the fact that he had an album due in two weeks and he was four tracks shy of completing it. When he called Tully to bring him up to speed, his assistant said what Chase had already known—he had to go back to Austin. Tully didn’t sound any happier about it than Chase. From what Chase had gathered the few times he’d seen Tully since he’d met that waitress a week ago, the two of them were getting pretty serious, pretty fast.

Tully had even asked if they wanted to approach Sid Mane, the album’s producer and the reason that they were recording in Austin, if he would come up to Illinois. Chase had reminded Tully that Sid’s wife had just given birth to twins and there was no way Chase would ask a man to leave his wife and newborn babies. Even if that weren’t the case, for the last ten years, Sid had only recorded in his home studio. He said that that’s where he felt the magic, and Chase might not have known how he felt about where he wanted his career to go, but he knew that if he was going to release an album, he wanted it to be the best it could be.

As he and Bear turned the corner, the firehouse came into view. Chase should have felt excited about this. Alex had asked him to ride on the firehouse’s float. Initially, even though riding on a float in the parade would have fulfilled a lifelong dream, Chase had told him no. He didn’t want to take attention away from the firefighters who risked their lives. He was just a musician, not a hero. Alex had told him that the guys were excited about it and it would really mean a lot to them. So Chase had gladly agreed to it.

When he was a kid, he’d watched the parade and wished that he was on one of those floats every year. When he was a teenager, he could have ridden on the high school’s float since he was on the track team, but his dad had said that “only sissy boys ride on floats, and if I see my only son up there, you better believe I’ll throw beer bottles at you until I knock your ass off of it.”

Chase remembered how mad he’d been at the time. Over the years, as an adult, when he’d been away and something would remind him of it, he would feel anger just below the surface. Now, after coming back home, he didn’t really have any feelings about it at all.

Honestly, Chase hadn’t realized how much power his dad still held over him. How much of his life had still been affected by the abuse, both physical and mental, his dad had subjected him to. If someone would have asked him even ten days ago if that was the case, he would have told them that Roger Malone meant nothing to him and had absolutely zero effect on his day-to-day life.

But he would have been wrong. Actually, it wasn’t so much that Roger held the power, it was the anger Chase carried around inside of him, buried deep, that held the power. But after coming home to the house he’d vowed he’d never step foot in, he realized that it was just a house. Wood, stucco, beams. Not a haunted house filled with memories of his dad—just a house. One which, after spending the week with Krista in it, also had some very good memories attached to it as well.

Damn, he didn’t want to think about leaving Krista. They had just found each other again. Sure, they’d been having a great time, but Chase had no idea what that meant or if his leaving again so soon might jeopardize that.

Bear barked loudly as a cat ran by, pulling Chase out of his inner reflections. Chase tugged once on his leash to correct him. He and Krista had been watching episodes of a show called
The Dog Whisperer
all week. Bear was a great dog, but he did need some work on barking and also his aggression towards cats. Luckily, he was great with people and other dogs, so when Alex mentioned that the firehouse dog, Hydrant, was going to be riding along, Chase had asked if it would be okay if Bear did as well. He hated the thought of leaving him alone for that long.

Speaking of leaving Bear, Chase realized that his mom would be coming home the day after tomorrow, so Krista would only have to keep Bear one night.

Shit
. Chase had been so worried about leaving Krista that he hadn’t even thought about the fact that his mom was getting out of the hospital and he wouldn’t be here.

There was a huge part of him that just wanted to say screw it, stay in Harper’s Crossing, and default on the contract. He had enough money to last him, and the family he hoped he’d have with Krista, for several lifetimes. But that wasn’t really the point.

Chase realized that a lot of his success was due to sheer luck. There were musicians far more talented than he was who had never hit it big. But his longevity, he believed, was not just his talent or luck, but also his—and his band’s—work ethic. In all the years they’d played together, they’d never once canceled a show. He took his commitments very seriously. He prided himself on being a man of his word. When he was growing up, he remembered The Colonel always saying that all a man had was his word and his handshake. That had stuck with Chase.

Obviously, he didn’t want to be like his own father. He didn’t have any uncles or even great coaches to look up to. So the men he had looked up to were Krista’s dad and The Colonel.

He didn’t think that either of them would back out on a contract, even though technically he hadn’t even been the one to sign it. They would man up, go do their jobs, and not whine about it.

Which was exactly what he planned on doing. He just needed to talk to Krista first.

* * *

“Mmmm,” Krista moaned. “This is sooo good.” Her lips wrapped around the straw as she sucked the cold lemonade into her mouth. Lemonade on a hot day had an almost orgasmic effect on her.

Not that she was having a shortage of those lately. Chase knew exactly what buttons to push in and out of the bedroom (and the kitchen, bathroom, hallway, living room, car, and any other place they got freaky). This past week had been a marathon of lovemaking. Krista was exhausted. Not like she had been the week before. The root of that exhaustion had been no sleep, stress, and panic. The only thing the two exhaustions had in common was the no sleep.

Looking up, Krista felt her heart warm as she saw her mom walking towards the HCWS booth she was currently manning.

“Hey, sweetie. Did you get to say goodbye to your sister this morning?”

“Yeah, I did.” Krista smiled as she stood and her mom wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a hug that radiated with love.

Sandra Sue Sloan was a saint in Krista’s eyes. Not only because she’d been such an amazing mom to her own four girls and also stepped in and helped raised Krista’s cousins, but also because she was the kindest, sweetest, most selfless person on the planet without being a pushover.

She never complained about anything and would do anything for anyone, but normally when Krista observed those qualities in people, they were also doormats who let everyone walk all over them. That was not the case with Krista’s mom. All you had to do was ask her dad, Pete. He would tell you that she didn’t let him get away with anything, and he loved it.

Her parents’ marriage was what Krista had dreamed she would have someday. They loved each other unconditionally. Truly saw and accepted who the other was. Challenged each other in the best possible way and were best friends.

A few years ago, Krista had asked her dad what he thought the secret was to his and her mom’s successful marriage. He’d smiled and said, “There’s no secret, honey. It takes work, love, and respect.” Krista remembered being surprised that her dad had taken her question seriously. Then he’d added while wagging his eyebrows, “And it doesn’t hurt that she has such a cute rear end.” Krista had swatted her dad on the arm and said something like, “T. M. I.,” or “Gross, Dad!”

Honestly though, Krista didn’t think the fact that her parents couldn’t keep their hands off each other was gross at all. They’d been married for over thirty years, and the fact that they were still wildly attracted to one another was, in her book, ah-may-zing.

“Mmm, is that lemonade?” Krista’s mom asked while fanning herself with an HCWS flyer.

“Yep. You want some?” Krista lifted the cup.

The day had started out a breezy eighty degrees or so, but in the last hour, the clouds in the bright blue sky had parted and the temperature had risen by at least ten degrees.

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