Page 92 of Perfect Pitch

The second I hang up, Austyn demands, “Charlie has other kids?”

A grin splits my face. “He’s pretty much adopted the family we’re about to meet.”

“Really? How did they meet?”

“Work.” Austyn glares at me, caught in the rules of her own game. “No, seriously, that’s a story you should ask him.”

“Fair enough.”

“My turn.” Even as I’m forming the question, I wonder if it will come back to haunt me later. “Did you suffer for not having your father in your life?”

Her breath is so sharply inhaled, I can hear it over the music playing. It’s so long between my question and her answer, I’m not confident she’s going to answer when she admits, “Yes.”

Before I can apologize for being so intrusive, she goes on. “I hurt for the child who was taunted by her ‘friends.’ I suffer for my mother who had to live a life above reproach. I’m devastated by the fact my mother never found a way to move on because she was so focused on ensuring I received enough love.”

The air is thick between us. I don’t know what to say until she breaks me and fixes me at the same time when she teases, “Do you want me to repeat it in French?”

A laugh escapes me before I can prevent it. “Let’s see if you can.”

Of course she does.

Flawlessly.

* * *

CHAPTER FORTY

If you can’t take time to enjoy the scenery while you’re dining, well, you’re not opening up all your senses.

—Fab and Delish

“Is this it?” Austyn’s in awe as we pull off a tree-lined lane and approach a fenced property with not one but seven incredible buildings on it.

“It is. Welcome to the farm.”

“How big is this place?” We’ve just pulled up in front of our final destination.

“The building or the property?”

“The building.”

“No clue.”

“The property?”

“About ten acres. There’s six individual residences and a community building all owned by the family.”

“Do they all live here?”

“The first generation does. Some of their kids are local, and others live in the greater northeast.” I recall what Caleb, Colby, and Keene have shared generally about their family.

“And they haven’t killed each other? That’s quite impressive. Even my mother moved off the property. She knew if she lived on the Kensington farm with Gramps and Uncle Jesse, she’d wring their necks.”

I lean closer. “And now you know why I no longer live with my brother.”

“Hey, Trev said you’re the one who preferred to be closer to your job.”

“That’s very true.” I mentally shudder at the idea of commuting to Beckett’s every morning.

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