by Mia Josephs
Corinne nodded.
“I showed Grandma how to make the airplanes Chris showed me!” Jonah beamed.
It felt as if someone had punched her chest. It felt that way every time she made tea for one instead of two. He was still in California. Her eyes floated around her small house. It hadn’t felt empty before. It felt full of her and Jonah and promises of a different life. A safer one. But things had changed.
Her mother rested a hand on her arm. “You know I love you, Corinne.”
Corinne’s body relaxed. “I know.”
“I wish…” Her mother sighed. “I wish we operated more often on the same wavelength.”
Me, too. Corinne pulled her mother into a hug. “Thanks again for the help.”
“You take care of yourself. Sometimes solutions to problems come from unexpected places.”
“What does that mean, Mom?”
Her mother chuckled as she stepped out the door. “It means that whatever has you feeling lost might have a fix you haven’t thought of yet.”
Right.
She watched her mom pull down the driveway and two minutes later, saw Heather’s car pull up the driveway next door.
Her heart jumped.
Heather was back!
“Jonah!” she called. “They’re back!”
He followed her out the door and ran through the trail coming onto Heather’s driveway just as she opened her car door.
The women grabbed each other in a hug, Corinne holding on as if her life depended on it. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me, too.” Heather squeezed her and the kids flew out of the back door, shouting and high-fiving each other.
Dan leaned forward and gave Corinne a wave—his narrow face looking more sallow than she’d ever seen it. He turned slightly further, and she could see the mottled skin where he’d been burned. Her stomach tightened at the severity of his wounds.
“How is he?” Corinne asked quietly.
“Wheelchair or crutches. His arm is mangled, but it’s still there. Same with his leg. Could have been so much worse.”
Corinne pulled Heather into another hug. “I’m so glad you two have each other.”
Heather’s smile was filled with every kind of love as she looked over at her husband. “There’s nothing like it in the world.”
Nothing like it in the world.
For just a chance at that… For just the chance, she should do anything, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that leap. Not yet. Not with her and Jonah and her carefully built life hanging in the balance.
EIGHTEEN
Chris slumped in his lounge chair listening to the final tracks of his album in the darkness, wishing he had a beer. A small pipe and a few hits of marijuana… Those amazing pills Max used to come by...
Had getting ready for tour always been this frustrating? He was damn proud of his album—it was everything he wanted it to be. But all the details...
He didn’t give a crap what he wore onstage. This was supposed to be his thing, his way. instead he was doing all the same BS photo shoots and fittings. Fittings. (Due to Lita perfectionism). He was going to wear jeans and t-shirts. At least the music sounded the way he wanted it to. Everyone had done their jobs well, especially considering how backwards the process had been.
His phone beeped in a text.
Iris: You doing okay?
He was fairly certain he had the best sponsor on the planet. The woman was close to psychic. Chris took a long slow breath in and out.
Chris: Hanging in.
Iris: You know to call anytime.
Chris: Thanks. You’re awesome.
His finger hovered over the button to call her but his house was clean of any pills or alcohol. He was determined. For himself. But also for Corinne and Jonah. The worst way to show her he was ready for something real, was to relapse.
His phone rang. Ten thirty, just like every night.
“Hey…” He closed his eyes and tried to pretend she was there. “I’m missing you.”
“Yeah.” She let out a long sigh. “I’m missing you too. Maybe…”
He held his breath.
“Maybe Jonah and I should come down sometime before—”
“Yes. Please.” He sat up. “Anytime. Now.”
“Okay.” She laughed. “I’ll look into tickets.”
“No, no, no.” He had to keep her from flying commercial. He’d had some photographers at the end of his driveway and they were occasionally in front of his house as well—all side-effects of the tour about to kick off. He wasn’t going to risk Corinne being seen or recognized or shown as attached to him in any way because he knew she’d hate it. The commercial airport wasn’t a good idea. “Let me charter something. I swear it’s a lot less extravagant than it sounds, and then neither of us will have to worry about airport traffic and all that.”
“That’s not what I—”
He lowered his voice. “Please, Corinne. Please let me do this. Please.”
“I can’t say no to that kind of pleading,” she whined, but he heard the laughter in her voice. “But even you flew commercial when you came.”
“I flew private on my way home.” He smiled, stood, and leaned on the balcony. “And anyway, you’re not supposed to say no when I plead.”
“Is that how it is?” she teased.
“If I always got my way, yes,” he teased back.
“This is weird,” she said quietly. “You’re not here.”
He felt exactly what she meant. Even after that short time, being away from her made him feel like crucial parts of him were missing. “My offer still stands. For you to come all the way. I don’t want this to sound bad, but money is easy for me. I can take care of your house. We could come up with some cool home school program for Jonah. And you can practice yoga over me anytime you like.”
She laughed a little again. “You’re trying to soften me up by making me laugh.”
“Yep.” He ran a hand over his head again. “This is new for me, Corinne. I can’t remember ever feeling so...tight...just because I’m not near someone. I wanna fix that, but I want you to want to… This is sounding like a lot of wants.”
“And I’m trying to force myself to go slow.”
He knew her reasons, he just wished she could see inside his head or feel what he felt. “Okay. So, this weekend? Please?”
“Anytime on Friday,” Corinne answered. “Whatever’s easiest. Jonah can’t wait to see you.”
“Easy is for Miranda to deal with.” He walked back toward the house feeling like he might actually sleep that night.
“You’re spoiled,” she accused.
“You would be too if you let me.” He thought about how amazing it would be to have her with him all the time. What he wanted to do for her, but hadn’t been able to.
“I’m letting you get me a private plane, which Jonah will love by the way. You’re not allowed to say you’re not spoiling me.”
“Fair enough. I’ll see you soon.”
“Soon.”
They hung up and all the things that they didn’t talk about suddenly weighed on him. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d just felt lighter. Finally. But what was it going to be like while he was on tour? Nearly three months. He hated how rushed he’d always felt with Kincaid, but now he did want a show almost every night so he could get home sooner. Back to Corinne sooner. The other thing they didn’t discuss was how they were going to work once he got back. He loved his place, but he loved hers, but there was no way he could stay away from LA, and she was determined to be in Alpine Heights.
Sometimes it felt like they were in a no-win situation, but he was in too deep to do anything but push forward. His hands shook in nerves, and he nearly dialed Iris.
He jogged up the stairs to his room and sat on the bed staring out at the blackness of the ocean. He was just going to watch the water until he fell asleep. That’s all.
Four depressing half-written songs and two hours later, exhaustion fin
ally won.
Corinne’s very few clothes were strewn over her bed next to her small, worn suitcase. Heather kept touching pieces of clothing and then setting them back down.
“I leave in minutes, and I’m not packed, H. This is an emergency.” Last time she hadn’t cared what she looked like. She had attempted to not fit in, but this time it was different.
“Yeah,” Heather teased. “Almost as dire as flying halfway around the world for a husband who—”
“Okay, okay.” Corinne laughed. “You win.”
“You just let your wardrobe fall into functional because that’s all you’ve needed.” Heather slid Corinne’s only decent pair of jeans into the bag.
“Yeah.” Corinne flopped on the bed, knowing she really had to get moving.
“How are you feeling about going?” Heather asked.
How did she? “I’m dying to see him again, but terrified for the same reason.”
“I get that.”
“Wait.” Corinne sat up. “I thought you were all thinking I should move forward.”
“That’s when you were afraid to.” Heather laughed lightly as she folded up another shirt. “Now that you are moving forward, I need to be the friend who tells you to be careful and look at all the sides.”
“Well, I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m…” Her chest squeezed. “He gets things about me, and… I understand him. I’m just… It’s new, and Jonah’s already involved because Chris snuck in as my friend, and…”
“Try to relax and enjoy your vacation, okay?” Heather said with her perfectly optimistic voice. “And give Christian Meyer a good squeeze for me.”
“I’m hoping to give him lots,” Corinne teased. That was the easy part with them. Everything else felt riddled with obstacles.
“Half of me wants to tell you to be careful, and the other half wants me to yell at you to scream caution into the wind and go for it. If I’d actually been around while he was here, my advice might carry some weight.” She tossed a couple shirts onto the small case.
“Well.” Corinne zipped up her suitcase, no longer caring what she did or didn’t have. “I feel the same, so this should be interesting.”
“It should be that,” Heather agreed. “And don’t forget…”
“Dirty details,” Corinne finished.
“Always.”
NINETEEN
They’d rehearsed so many times Chris didn’t have to think. Lita’s strumming and his picking matched perfectly. His brain was numb from doing the same few songs over and over. He also knew that no amount of practice was going to help him look more relaxed about a song that he wanted to be relaxed about while onstage. He’d rather have a few missteps and imperfections, but Lita wanted it to appear as if they were goofing around, when in reality he’d have played their joint songs more than any others he had planned.
He slouched on the stool in his studio, ready for Corinne to be there, or for a change of scenery. Anything.
“Once more?” she asked.
“Lita…” He sighed and then stopped when he saw the familiar mix of panic and determination cross her face.
He might have started in music young, but it was nothing like starting at seventeen. And being “Lita James” instead of just part of “Kincaid” like he had been also carried with it a different sort of pressure.
“I’m sorry.” Chris sagged in his chair again, his throat sore. “I gotta run, or I won’t make Corinne’s plane.”
Lita frowned. “If we run over the three songs one or two more times... They don’t feel done to me.”
Chris rubbed his forehead. “We leave in two weeks, Lita. At some point, we have to say it’s good enough.”
She pushed her hands through her blond hair, tightened her jaw, and walked out of the room without a word.
Griffin smiled a little as she left. “Give her a minute, and she’ll be back and be fine.”
“Are you serious?” Chris asked. In his experience people didn’t walk out without a word unless they were pissed.
Griffin stood and moved for the door. “I know she’s a pain in the ass, but no one can argue that it doesn’t pay off.”
“You got me.” Chris let his head hang to the side as he thought about Corinne arriving without him there. “Dammit.”
“I’m sorry,” Griffin said. “I know you want to pick Corinne up. I could go, or you could send Max.”
He wasn’t about to send Max. Max might try to talk Corinne out of being with Chris.
“You wanna go talk to your girl?” Chris asked. He hoped that Griffin would be able to talk to her, calm her down, or help her to see that she was being too much of a perfectionist.
Griffin tipped his head before pulling open the door.
“Can I say again that I’m really glad you’re part of this?” Chris asked.
“Trust me.” Griffin paused. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Chris sat for a few more minutes before standing and following Griffin. It wasn’t fair for the guy to always be running interference. He walked upstairs and paused near the top when he saw them standing together in his living room. In that second he knew he should walk back down but jealousy at their ability to touch held him in place.
“I don’t want to feel like you’re always babying me,” Lita said softly as she stared at the floor. “I know I need to calm down. I left. It’s okay.”
“Hey,” Griffin tipped up her chin. “You walked out without yelling.”
He smirked, pulling a partial smile from her.
“And,” he paused. “You’re helping me in the way that’s most damaging to my ego.”
“But it’s so easy for me, Griff. I don’t even have to think about money.”
His forehead touched hers, and Chris ached for Corinne. “And I don’t even have to think about how to touch you or what to say to you when I know you need me. Okay? This stuff is easy for me.”
She let out a breath. “I’m so scared of messing us up. Of the tour not going right. Of… You know.”
His eyes closed and he planted a kiss on her cheek. “I know.”
Damn. Chris couldn’t cut off rehearsal after watching that. He slowly walked back down the stairs hating the reality that he wouldn’t be the guy picking Corinne up from the airport. He’d have to leave that to Griffin. Damn again.
Once Corinne had decided to see Chris in California, every hour had felt like another line stood in. Another obstacle to fight. The last few minutes of the flight, she clutched the armrests on the plane—part because she’d always be nervous flying and part because she had to do something she could feel while she waited.
Jonah’s eyes were wide as he stared out the window at the city below, and he clapped as the plane landed. Everything felt hazy. She wasn’t supposed to be in the position where she had a hard time removing her brain from a guy, but there she was, tapping her foot as she waited for the plane to come to a stop and for the door to open.
Seconds and she’d be in Chris’ arms again and she’d remember all the reasons why coming here was a good idea.
Her heart thrummed as the door of the small plane lowered and she stepped down with Jonah on her heels. They’d made it. A few hours of Jonah touching every surface in the small plane, and they were finally there.
“This is so cool!” he said again. Like he’d said about five hundred times on the flight down.
A limo sat waiting with a man she didn’t recognize leaning on the hood, the driver already scooping up her bags and sliding them in the trunk.
“Corinne, right?” the man asked in a southern accent that smoothed over every syllable. His plaid shirt was rolled up to his elbows, and dark hair fell over his forehead.
Her heart fluttered in the beginnings of uncertainty and panic.
“Where’s the car without a top?” Jonah asked. “Where’s Chris?”
She stared at the man who pushed off the car and moved toward her with his hand out. Younger than her, and tall…
“I’m Grif
fin.” They shook hands. “I’m with Lita, and we’ve all been working together a bit.”
“Um… Okay…”
“Sorry Chris isn’t here.” He stood back, bit his lip and gave her a partial frown. “Lita’s a bit of a perfectionist, and they weren’t finished, so—”
Her throat swelled as disappointment sunk in. “You’re here instead.”
All the days and the phone calls and his pleadings for her to come down, and now...she was being escorted by someone else back to his house.
“Lita talked him into it by saying you two would have days together. He really was torn up,” Griffin assured.
She let out a breath. She knew. They’d both said that they’d go through the craziness of just before tour. And that they’d do it together. But how were they doing anything together when she’d come all this way and he hadn’t even made it to the airport?
Corinne closed her eyes in the LA warmth and let out a breath. She knew. They both knew. His life was insane at that moment. This was one small setback. She could deal.
“Corinne!” Jonah called. “Come see the car!”
It was past dinner and the day was wearing on her.
“I’m really sorry.” Griffin stood next to the door, waiting for her to slide in. “He wanted you to come in this car because there are photographers camping outside his house with the tour and Lita and all that. He’s just trying to protect you.”
She’d been in limos before. A lot of times. She slipped in. The car felt...empty. She wanted Chris. His warmth. His face smiling in excitement. His old car and the wind in her hair. And she was forced to hide in a stuffy limo just to keep her face out of the papers. This was exactly what she wanted to avoid.
“Yeah, well…” At least she wasn’t in the car with Max. She had no idea how to deal with him or what his thoughts might be on her and Chris, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know—no matter which way he was leaning.
They rode in silence for a few minutes as Jonah played with windows, and slid up and down the long, leather seat.
“So, you’re with Lita? What does that mean?” Corinne asked, more to make conversation than anything else. Actually, more to keep her mind focused on something other than the uncertainty she felt in coming.