Girl in Love (45 page)

I don’t miss the extra weight in his voice but I hope Bo doesn’t catch it. Trace still hasn’t completely forgiven his mom for the mistakes she’s made over the years, but he’s working on it. She’s Bo’s grandma and he loves her, so I deal with her the best I can.

“Lily and her dad are coming,” I inform him.

“I know,” he hollers back from the kitchen. “Don told me they were. His son is coming in from overseas, so he’ll be here too.”

“Is he in the military?” I can’t remember Lily mentioning that. But she talks a mile a minute so I might’ve missed it.

“No, he’s a pro soccer player,” Trace tells me. Now that I did know—just not the overseas part. I forget sometimes that Lily’s dad is technically Trace’s boss. Never in a million years could I have predicted the way our lives would change.

After we walked away from Capital Letter Records, Trace and I took some time to just be together. No labels, no tour buses, no performances. Just us. The family living in my home had found some things of my father’s in the attic and sent them to me. I used my year off to put together a memory book that eventually became an actual book called
My Father’s Daughter.
It sold more copies than Darla’s. Not that I was counting or anything.

Donovan Taite offered Trace his own label. Eventually Trace accepted, provided he could sign a certain trio that included Donovan’s daughter, Mia Montgomery, and his wife. It makes Lily’s day that she’s been signed by a separate label that isn’t
technically
her dad’s.

Trace is happy with the arrangement since he still has time for his A Hand Up Foundation, the rehab facility he’s part owner of, and his favorite job—being a stay-at- home-dad.

Despite the media turning us into some shiny, sparkly golden couple, the past few years haven’t been all hearts and glitter shooting out of our asses. Red carpets and platinum awards, aside, it’s life. It’s beautiful and messy and more often than not, kind of scary. We both panicked when we found out I was pregnant with Bo. Trace hadn’t had a very good example of a father and I didn’t even have any solid memories of my mother. But somehow, together, we figured it out. We’re still figuring it out most days.

But it’s real. What we have. No matter what anyone says.

We tour together from time to time, but Trace won’t go on the road unless Bo and I go with him. He’s been sober for nearly five years now and I couldn’t be more proud of him. But even if he slips and has to go back to rehab, we’d get through it. As a family.

Bo has gone way back in my photo album on my phone. There are still pictures of our wedding on it. We had it here at the farm. Trace wore a tie but I let him wear jeans and boots. I wore my mom’s wedding dress, which had arrived with my father’s belongings, with my own boots. The same ones I’d taken on Trace’s
Back to My Roots
tour.

I smile at my son and at the blurry photos on the screen. It rained on our wedding day, and the guests all took shelter in the tents. But we stayed out in the storm and said our vows. A little rain couldn’t stop us. I barely even noticed. We’d been through much worse.

Glancing at the pictures though, I want to laugh. We look half-drowned. And that was before Trace threw me in the pond.

“Gretchen and her son and some guy she’s dating and his kid are coming,” Trace reminds me, snapping me back to the present. “She said you invited them at the AHU benefit.”

“I did.” I bite my lip, wondering if the next guest on the list is going to make him go all caveman on me. “Mia’s coming, too. I told her she could bring someone if she wanted. So she is.”

Trace steps into the living room with a dishtowel in his hands. “Oh yeah? Who is she bringing?”

I roll my eyes. He can say whatever he wants. The man looks at celebrity gossip stuff online. He knows good and well who Mia is dating. They’ve been together for a while now. It’s not exactly a new thing.

“You know who. Be nice.”

Trace eyes the gun cabinet in the corner. “Nice is my middle name. Ask him if he wants to go hunting in the morning.”

“You’re not right.” I shift Bo, whose eyes haven’t left my phone this entire time, onto the couch cushion beside me and stand on my tiptoes. I give my husband a lingering kiss. “You know there’s only ever been one guy for me.”

“Damn straight,” he says against my mouth before swatting me on the behind with the dishtowel.

The next hour is a steady stream of guests arriving, and the long day begins to weigh on me. It must be showing because once everyone has arrived, Trace pulls me aside.

“Baby, if you’re tired, go lie down. Turkey still has a little while and the kids want to go down to the barn and see the horses.”

I wrap my arms around him, resting my head on his chest, and let out a small sigh. It’s good to be home. “I’m okay. I’ll come down in a minute. I just need to freshen up first.”

Looking up into the hazel gaze I love so much, I smile at his darkening expression. He worries about me. It feels nice to have someone who cares so much. Too much sometimes.

“I promise I’m fine.” I press my lips to his, and he surprises me by sliding his warm, wet tongue in my mouth. He tastes so good, and I can’t get enough.

My arms wrap instinctively around his neck and my fingers rake into his hair.

By the time he ends our kiss, I’m lightheaded.

We have guests
, I remind myself.

“Well just be sure you save enough energy for later,” he says low in my ear. “I still have to show you how much I missed you.”

I nod, hoping my legs are still steady enough to hold me. His lips brush against mine once more and then he winks before jogging outside to catch Bo and the others on their way to the barn.

After I’ve splashed some water on my face, I head outside and toward the barn where they’ve all gathered.

From behind and at a distance, they look like one big group.

I can see my son on my husband’s shoulders. Next to them, Pauly has one arm around Claire Ann, and in the other he holds Leah, the little girl they recently adopted from Guatemala. Rae and her boyfriend, whose name I can’t remember because all Trace ever refers to him as is the kid with crappy taste in music, stand beside them. Trace’s mom is slightly at a distance but Bo and Leah are both angling toward her.

Lily and her dad and brother are chatting with Mia and Steven. Looks like Lily’s brother the soccer star isn’t immune to Mia’s charms. I can practically see Steven tightening his grip on her from here. Bet he’ll be over that “no need to put a ring on it” thing before the night is over. Gretchen is on the other side of them with her handsome man and each of their kids.

From where I stand, I can see it. Them. The connections. Some are closer than others, but we’re all connected. All a part of something I didn’t fully understand until now. Something I never thought I’d have.

Walking toward them, I know I’m smiling like a crazed maniac, but I can’t help it. In a way, I’m in love with each and every one of them because they’re a part of our lives. The roles they’ve played in helping us get where we are make me love them even more. I place a hand on my stomach and stop just to look at them for a moment longer.

My family.

Panic threatens to send my heart into my throat. Could be the hormones from the pregnancy maybe. But I can’t wrap my mind around it. How did I get so lucky? What could I possibly have done to deserve this?

I get to live my dream and I have a family to share it with. To laugh with and fight with and eat meals with. To love and miss, dream and cry with, and drive completely crazy.

There was a time when I thought I’d have to choose. One or the other. Dreams or family. And an even darker time when I felt like I had nothing and didn’t dare let myself imagine I’d ever have a life like this.

But somehow I have all the things I ever wished for. There is so much to be thankful for that I can hardly breathe when I think about how differently my life could’ve turned out.

Someone else has to be responsible. Someone had to be watching over me for me to be this blessed. For me to have everything I ever wanted, everything I needed, and then some, even after all of the mistakes I made.

A light misting rain begins to fall and suddenly I know. My moment of panic subsides and all I am is grateful.

Before I reach my family, I lift my face to the sky and whisper my words of gratitude.

“Thanks, Daddy.”

The Second Chance Series

Love is complicated. Sometimes all you need is a second chance.

Last Second Chance

W
HEN STELLA
Jo Chandler gets an offer to work at the Second Chance Ranch celebrity rehab facility right after graduating from Texas A&M, she’s tempted to turn it down. She wants to help real people with real problems, not spoiled celebrities going on vacation for publicity. But growing up on her family’s ranch left her with a love of horses that draws her to the opportunity. How bad can babysitting a bunch of strung out celebrities be?

What she didn’t count on was being roped into a tangled mess with infamous rocker and three-time rehab drop out Van Ransom on her first day. And she damn sure didn’t expect to feel the overwhelming attraction that pulls her to the man who has more issues than she can count on both hands. Like the hotel rooms and tour buses he’s famous for trashing, the havoc he could wreak on Stella’s heart would be irreparable.

Van isn’t at Second Chance for publicity or because he’s suffering from “exhaustion”. He’s on the brink of destruction, and he needs the kind of help Stella isn’t sure she can give. But without her, he'll lose everything. Because he’s on his last second chance.

Read other books by Caisey Quinn.

Ending this series was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I literally couldn’t let go of Kylie and Trace until the very last possible second. Being a part of their world has been such an amazing experience. Without the help of so many wonderful and dedicated and supremely talented people, I never could’ve even begun to think about putting these books out into the universe.

But before I get into my ginormous list of awesome people that I am fortunate enough to know and work with, I have to thank my family. They are the bridge that not only supports me and my dreams, but carries me from the dark recesses of insanity that one must venture into in order to write a book back to reality and then back again many times over. Thank you for allowing me to travel back and forth. For letting me chase my dreams and follow my heart and still have people to share my failures and successes with.

I giggle a lot when I see comments about Trace, because if you hand my husband a guitar, he’s basically him. I cheer on the readers who yell at him and shake my head at the ones who succumb to his charms, much like I did nearly ten years ago. I’m a lucky girl to have found someone who can drive me so completely crazy that life is never boring while loving me so unconditionally that I have the courage to simply be myself.

Okay, so moving right along. This is a long list y’all. Brace yourselves.

As you can see in the dedication, Emily Tippetts was the first person to read Girl with Guitar. Thankfully she didn’t say,
Stick to your day job, lady
. Instead she said,
You have to publish this
. Then she proceeded to hold my hand, talk me down from ledges, and give me the courage to publish my books. So, if you enjoyed this series, thank Emily (like I do pretty much every day.)

If you did not find dozens of typos in this book, it’s due to the diligent work of my editor Mickey Reed and my proofreader Rahab Mugwanja. They are fantastic ladies that I am so lucky to get to work with. If you did find dozens of typos, it’s entirely my fault and due to changes I made after their eyes perfected this beast of a book.

So many other authors welcomed me into the indie author community with open arms and advice and just by being their wonderfully sweet selves. Big hugs to the aforementioned Emily Tippetts, Abbi Glines, Anna Cruise, Elizabeth Lee, Rachel Harris, Lexi Ryan, Marilyn Brant, Rhonda Helms, Lauren Blakely, Rachel Brookes, Jen McLaughlin, Heidi McLaughlin, Chelsea Cameron, and the many, many others who I am blessed to call colleagues and friends.