Laughter bursts from around the room.
“You wore leather pants?” Izzy asks, eyes wide. “I know I missed a solid decade of your musical career, but how has that not resurfaced?”
“Once,” I say, holding up a finger. “For my second album. And I regretted it for the entire decade.”
“Pretty sure it’s still trending on Twitter somewhere,” Jameson adds unhelpfully.
I give him awhat-the-fuck?look, but he just laughs. I guess if anyone knows how long your bad decisions can live on the internet, it’s Jameson.
“Dinner’s ready!” Jen calls, and everyone files into the dining room. Izzy ends up between me and Ken, who claps me on the back hard enough to make me lurch forward slightly.
“Look at you. Still here and spending time with my daughter. Maybe you aren’t so bad.”
“Maybe not,” I agree. Though, I have a few unanswered texts from Andre that make me question just how much longer I can stay in Wild Bluffs.
Forcing that thought from my head, I take the seat beside Izzy’s, grabbing her hand like a lifeline.
“So speaking of albums,” Ken says. “What’s next for Jaxon Steele?”
“Jax just finished writing his next one,” Izzy says, her eyes full of pride and something else. Something that looks a bit like sadness.
“It’s about time,” Carter teases from the end of the table.
I shrug. “You can’t rush brilliance.”
Izzy elbows me playfully. “While I’d normally question the brilliance comment, he’s right. I’ve heard most of the songs, and they’re amazing.”
It’s going to be my best album by far. Though every musician thinks that about every album, so maybe it’s not saying much.
“You still playing that Les Paul you had with you on the tour last year?” Ken asks.
I smile. Of course, Ken would pay attention to the guitar I’m playing—he’s the one who first introduced me to the differences possible in the instrument. And that’s a nice fucking guitar.
Ken always had various guitars around the house. He was a great hobby musician, not that many people ever got to hear him play.
When I got older, we’d often have conversations about guitar models and the sounds they produce.
“It is unfortunately back in Tennessee,” I reply.
“Is it a Custom Select?”
“Sure is. I got it when I had my first song earn diamond status.”
Ken nods. “That gold hardware is pretty. I bet it plays like a dream.”
“Okay, Dad,” Izzy chirps. “Stop drooling over his guitar.”
“You should bring it to the wedding,” Bryn says. “Maybe you can play a song. Or at least let my dad drown his sadness athaving his favorite daughter married in the feel of luxurious mahogany wood.”
“Bryn,” Izzy chides. “He’s not playing at your wedding. Singing is work for him, and you can’t afford a Jaxon Steele appearance.”
“I assumed I got thefamilydiscount,” she replies, her eyes widening in a dare as she looks at Izzy.
“I’m sure I can pull something together, Bryn. If you really want,” I assure her. “Though, I’m not sure I can get the Gibson here in time.”
“Next time, then,” Ken says, giving me the first genuine smile since I got back in town.
Conversation flows like water. Jameson and JT end up in a debate about whether mini golf requires real golf skills. Jen starts listing wedding tasks that need to be done, but she stops when everyone groans and Bryn threatens to not include her in any more of the wedding planning.
