Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Carlene woke to the scent of coffee and the soft hum of a guitar.
For a moment, she didn’t know where she was.
Jami's bed, the gentle murmur of the air conditioner, the aroma of cedar and Jami, it all felt dreamlike.
Then she rolled over and saw Jami sitting near the window, shirtless, sunlight catching the curve of his shoulder.
He jotted something into a notebook, then looked up to see her watching him.
He strummed quietly, half a melody, half a thought, his brow furrowed in that way that meant he wasn’t just playing, he was feeling.
Her heart ached in the best way.
“You never stop,” she whispered, voice still thick with sleep.
He smiled. “Couldn’t. It’s the first time I’ve had something worth writing about in a long time.”
She sat up, pulling his discarded shirt around over her head. “And what’s that?”
He lifted his gaze from the guitar to her. “You.”
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.