What We've Become (My Kind Of Country Book 2) (2 page)

“Jay—” Katie warned. She pulled away, and this time she put enough force into it to actually break free. She had a hard enough time with his constant questioning, and his thoughts regarding the farm; she had no tolerance for his absurd thoughts about getting married. She was nowhere near ready for that.

“We could, you know. Just do it. It would be a real start-over for us, a real new beginning.” Jay didn’t try to pull her close again, but his face revealed a sly grin, the left corner of his mouth twitching upward. Katie had heard this idea before though, and she was once again going to put a stop to it before he continued on.

“I’ve already told you no. We are not there yet, okay?”

“You’re not. I am.” He offered his best boyish grin. Katie rolled her eyes. She knew he was well aware of her stance on this matter, but he was just mentioning it again as a method of psychological warfare, making sure it was clear that
she
was the one unwilling to make things better between them. That’s how it always was with Jay; things were never truly his fault.

“Stop it, Jay. I am not hashing this out with you again. I said no.” She turned her back on him and began to pluck Mason’s Hot Wheels cars from the floor, allowing herself a short-lived reprieve from his watchful stare. Once again, Jay held his hands up, signaling what would only be a temporary surrender. His amused smirk never wavered.

“Okay, okay, I’m done. But I will wear you down eventually. And if I don’t, this city will.”

Katie responded with only a curt nod. He might be right about the city. Maybe it did hold something appealing for her, but, if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t yet convinced that that something was Jay.

CHAD

Chad took a step away from the microphone suspended before him, his hands cupped over the headphones he wore. That was it, he could feel it. He knew without even looking up into the watchful eyes of the guys in the sound booth that he wouldn’t need to record the song again. He exhaled in relief and lifted his gaze toward the pane of glass separating him from his producer and manager. As he’d expected, they both wore wide smiles of satisfaction. They felt it as well, then; the air of finality, of a process seen through to completion.

He was back.

He was back in tune with himself, the man who had fought to get to this point in his music career, and who had subsequently clawed his way back from what could have been the abrupt end of it. He was back to creating music that not only was he was excited to see how his target audience would react to, but that also had the attention of the executives within the industry, too. In a matter of months, he had managed to achieve some level of forgiveness from the people who had helped him throughout the years, even though he knew damn well they should have packed up and gone on to find someone more worthy of their guidance and unwavering support. Instead, after disappearing from Nashville for a handful of weeks without so much as a note or call to any of them, he had returned to find his band and business partners—a group of guys who had done all they could, in the time he’d been gone, to prevent the media and powers-that-be in Nashville from finding out he’d left—waiting for him, albeit impatiently. That told Chad more about them than they could ever say; they were friends, not just people who worked alongside him.

That’s not to say he didn’t return to a flurry of wide eyes, angry outbursts, and curse words. He heard it voiced in many different ways, but everyone he knew had cried out the same concerns.
What the hell would possess you to do that?
You should have contacted someone!
and
What if we were sitting here thinking you were dead?
were just a few of the retorts he had been faced with. His friend and fellow songwriter, Andy, actually hit a wall and caused his knuckles to bleed when Chad first appeared back at the studio after his impromptu hiatus. Andy tossed insults and fits of outrage at him, visibly attempting to hold himself back from throwing a punch, along with the string of expletives. He let Chad know in no uncertain terms that his little vanishing act was unfair, uncalled for, and downright irresponsible. Chad knew that was his way of saying he had been worried sick about him, especially seeing as Andy rarely showed any sort of negative emotion outwardly. Andy was only one person in a long line of them who had flung around some choice words when Chad returned to the city, but he had expected it. Hell, he’d welcomed it.

At that point, it had almost been a relief to know that there were other people who were dealing with hurt and anger about things that had happened, even if it was all directed at him. That meant he wasn’t suffering alone. He was fully aware of how deranged he was to think such a thing.

He was also quick to notice how everyone phrased their statements towards him—saying “
What if
we’d thought you were dead?” instead of “We thought you were.” He picked up on the fact that, though they were concerned about his well-being and state of mind, no one had really questioned him as to his exact whereabouts during those weeks. That could only mean one thing.

Liz.

Obviously, Liz had figured out his whereabouts long before he had known hers, and she had subsequently let the most important people back in Nashville know that he was okay. Call it damage control—or maybe just a love of gossip—but he supposed he should be thankful she had helped him out that much. Lord knows she’d made an absolute disaster of every other aspect of his life, so he figured it was the least she could do. He had barely spoken to her since parting ways with her on the other side of the border, speaking civilly to her only when something work related required it. It was funny how a city with more than six hundred thousand people could seem so small sometimes.

Perhaps out of everyone though, his manager, Barry, held the least amount of grudge against him following his return.

“As long as you’re okay, Chad, then I am just glad to see you back where you belong.” Barry’s words had struck a chord somewhere deep within him, wondering then, what it would take for him to view Nashville as the place he truly belonged again, the way Barry did. Chad also decided that he must have been one of the people Liz had called—therefore, giving him time to calm down and setting his manager’s mind at ease—but the lack of hostility was welcomed, nonetheless. Barry also seemed overly eager to get Chad back into the life he had walked away from, and he supposed that was because it was the man’s job. He wondered if there was more to it, but he was certain he was doing it all for Chad’s own personal benefit rather than just for their careers.
That
made him wonder just how much Liz had divulged to him. But Chad didn’t have it in him to confirm that Liz had, in fact, notified anyone of his location or what she had deemed relevant to tell them.

Now, though, as he stood in the middle of the recording studio and tugged the headphones from his ears, basking in the energized glances from his colleagues, he knew two things for sure. The first was that this new single was the one. It would surpass the success he’d had with
Take Me Home
and put his name out there for the world to remember. The knowing excitement that was radiating from Barry and his producer on the other side of the glass confirmed it. The song was country—
real
country—and it fit his voice, his demeanor, and his idea of what country music should be. And it should, seeing as he had written it with Andy’s help. No matter what releasing it would do for his career, he knew he would always be proud to call this song his own.

The second thing he knew was that the pain he felt from losing Katie the way he did was just as raw and fresh as it had been three months ago. Without that kind of immeasurable pain to eat away at his emotions and burn a ragged hole through his heart, he never would have been able to sing the song he had just recorded with as much truthfulness and emotional upheaval as he had. Hell, he probably never would have dreamed of recording such a song before he’d left Nashville. There were some songs that were so deeply rooted in a singer’s own personal demons, that no one else would be able to possibly convey the agony and self-destruction that led to such words being paired with a melody.

“What the hell happened to you in Canada?” Barry had remarked on the day Chad had sat down and performed an acoustic version of the song for him to hear. Chad could tell he was half joking, the raised corner of his mouth giving him away. Chad arched an eyebrow at him anyway, and Barry responded by raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not complaining, trust me,” he added, a full-fledged smile taking over his features. “The music you’re cranking out is amazing, Chad. It’s deeper, for lack of a better word. But, you—I don’t know how to say it. You’re still you, but you’re not...you.” Chad scoffed quietly at that, reaching out to lean his acoustic guitar back into the stand. He couldn’t bring himself to answer the question, but he had a feeling his manager didn’t expect him to.

If only Barry knew just how right he was. Chad wasn’t himself anymore—at least not the same man he’d been prior to walking away from the life he’d once known in Nashville.

Maybe he never would be again.

KATIE

Katie heard Jay come home from work before she actually saw him. She hadn’t yet grown accustomed to leaving the door unlocked while he was away during the day, still uncomfortable with the city life. Even at the farm, she had been sure to lock the door at night, and before she left for any extended length of time. She could hear the shuffling as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, cursing as he tried one key and then another. Katie bit back a smirk as she crossed the room and turned the deadbolt, pulling the door open to come face to face with Jay’s flustered expression as he balanced multiple bags and boxes in his arms, and his fingers tangled in a jumble of keys. However, the crease in his forehead quickly disappeared at the sight of her, his face breaking out in a wide smile.

“Thanks, I was just about to give up and sit down here in the hallway until you got worried and came looking for me,” he chuckled.

“I figured I’d better do something quick, before your colorful language started to concern the neighbors.” Katie stepped back to let him and his baggage pass, offering him a joking grin in return. She closed the door once he was in, fighting the urge to relock it. Instead, she followed Jay through the open living area into the kitchen, returning to the bar stool she had been perched on before his arrival, the hot mug of coffee she’d made still on the kitchen island billowing steam into the air. She eyed the bags he’d brought home as she took a sip from the mug, curling her nose up as the liquid burned her lips, and setting it back down again to cool. Jay had bought things—multiple things—and he wasn’t exactly an avid shopper, which usually meant he had some big idea he was going to try to convince her to go along with, or he had done something that required an apology. Either way, she raised her eyebrows dubiously at him.

“What’s with all the retail therapy?” she asked, trying to keep her tone lighthearted. The last thing they needed was another argument or conversation that resulted in her asking him to stop pushing his plans on her.

Jay stopped rustling through the bags. He squared his shoulders as he turned his attention to her, his hands splayed before him on the countertop as though to steady his balance. “I have an idea, Katie.”

What a shocker
, Katie thought, and fought the urge to roll her eyes.
Give the guy a chance.
“Why does that worry me?” she retorted instead.

“Christmas holidays. Mason gets two weeks off from school for the Christmas holidays already, so let’s pull him out for an additional week, and then the three of us can spend three solid weeks together. No sprinting back and forth across the border, just a real family Christmas. Let’s do it, Katie.” He was practically vibrating with enthusiasm as he spoke, and Katie chuckled absently at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but realized she couldn’t think of a good reason right off hand why it was a bad idea. She quickly closed her mouth again.

It was his turn to laugh at her. She was rarely speechless. “See? Even you, queen of all things logical and overanalyzed, can’t come up with a way to turn me down! Katie, it will be great. We’ll get a tree, and we can go shopping for Mason’s gifts together, and—”

“The farm can’t be left alone in the dead of a Canadian winter like that. I’m sorry.” She said it softly, not wanting to crush the excitement radiating from him. He deflated almost immediately, exhaling sadly.

“It always comes back to that place. Is there—”

Katie held up her hands. “Don’t tell me to sell it, Jay. I’m not listening to that again.”

Jay cocked his head to the side, motioning for her to bring her defensiveness down a notch. “That’s not what I was going to say. What I was trying to say was, is there any way that we can hire someone to keep an eye on the house or something? Just for a few weeks?”

They both grew silent. Time seemed to stand still with the lack of movement and sound between them. Faintly, Katie could hear Mason talking to himself as he played in his bedroom down the hall. He must be completely enthralled within his imagination not to have heard Jay come home. That was probably a good thing, because she was sure she wouldn’t be able to fend them both off if her son got wind of this idea. “Even if I could, the house isn’t prepared to withstand winter for any length of time. I would need to go back to get it ready. I can’t put that on someone else.”