by Mia Josephs
“I’m…” His smile said it all. “Totally in love with her, and helping her with music, and—”
“How does that work?” Corinne asked.
“How does what work?”
“Are you two able to get along with all the pressure and music and everything?”
He chuckled. “Lita is a perfectionist and has a temper, and I’m mellow. It works. Also, she calls me on all my weirdness, and I call her on all hers. It sometimes leads to one of us feeling stupid and less than thrilled with any given situation, but we’re pretty good about not holding grudges, at least with each other. So yeah, it works. Well.”
She had no doubt with the smile on his face that it did work well.
Corinne went from uncertainty to hope, and she knew already that her emotions were going to roller-coaster for her visit. The problem was that if she was up and down at the beginning phase of them being together, how would it feel after a few months? Or a year?
She closed her eyes wishing beyond anything she knew what she should do. But maybe by being there, she’d already chosen.
Chris fumbled on the guitar strings again and Lita stopped. “You are for real messed in the head over not meeting up with her, aren’t you?”
Chris nodded and Lita frowned.
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I get on one track, and I had it set in my head that we were going to play this one perfect before we finished.”
Chris waved her away. “It’s fine. It’s all new with her, you know? And my… It’s that I’m...” He gestured with his hand around his house, unsure of what to say.
“The fact that you’re hot and super famous?” she teased.
“That, I guess,” Chris said, embarrassed. He set down his guitar and moved from the stool to flop on the couch. “It’s a big strike against me with her, so… the fact that I wasn’t there makes it worse. I know she was worried about coming down, but—”
“There was no way this tour was going to happen when you were in small-town Washington,” Lita finished.
“Right.”
“I think I got pretty lucky with Griff.” Her smile was the shy, uncertain smile of a very young woman instead of the rock goddess she was known as.
“He seems pretty stellar.”
“And when’s Donovan joining us?” she asked.
“Since he’ll probably only sing one with me, not until just before the tour kicks off. I don’t mind getting up there and being a little rough. For me, that’s my roots, you know? I’ve always loved the idea of hanging on stage with my voice and a few words and my guitar and letting the audience lead me and talking and playing and messing up and having it be okay.”
Lita let out a long breath. “That absolutely terrifies me. I’m in the generation of one wrong move and you’re Lindsay Lohan or Britney Spears and everyone hates you for being who you are.”
“Are those really fair comparisons to make?” Chris asked wondering if he should be more nervous about performing.
“No.” She pushed her long bangs off her face. “But we’re never fair to ourselves, are we?”
“No,” Chris agreed. “We never are.”
The outside door clicked and Chris jumped to standing, jogged through the sound booth and Jonah leapt into his arms. Chris held him tightly, pulling him off the ground. “Missed you little man.”
“Ugh.” Jonah laughed. “You’re squeezing too hard!”
Chris tightened his arms a little. “Because I haven’t had a Jonah squeeze in so long! I need to soak you up!”
Jonah’s giggle and shriek made Chris laugh and he set him down, just then seeing Corinne smiling at him from the doorway.
“And you…” He wrapped her in his arms. The feeling of rightness and love and home rushed through him.
“I’ve missed you.” He breathed into her hair. “I might need more than a squeeze from you to get my fix.”
Her arms tightened around him and he felt her body relax. Knew she’d probably been as uncertain about him not picking her up as he’d thought. Maybe even more.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
He let her go only to grab Jonah and hoist him onto his back. “I have a piggy-back ride and a room to show you!”
“We’ll meet tomorrow!” Lita laughed and Chris continued up the stairs, Jonah bouncing on his back.
Lita and Griffin could lock up. They’d be back the next day and the next and the next, and probably every single day until they left and Lita had each of her hip shakes planned out.
“I have food!” Corinne called from behind them, and Chris paused leading Jonah to the deck.
“Let’s eat outside. Lita’s kept me in the studio all day.”
In two minutes Corinne had everyone’s burgers and drinks laid out on a small table, the setting sun coming at them from the side, and occasional bits of shouting or laughter drifting up from the beach.
Chris and Jonah play fought over fries and ketchup packets, and Chris touched his foot to Corinne’s more than he needed to. Found ways to touch her leg or her arm and…
He wanted to just soak up every second of the three of them being together. Until Jonah he’d always seen kids as something that got in the way. That pushed people apart. And now… It wasn’t like that at all. Jonah gave him and Corinne something else in common—the need for this kid to be happy and healthy and well.
“Your house is so big,” Jonah walked to the edge of the deck. “Almost as big as Grandma’s house.”
“But probably older,” he said. “Most of the houses on this beach have either been torn down and rebuilt, or like mine, refurbished completely. My house is pretty old.”
Jonah nodded, Corinne rested back on the lounge chair and Chris stood. “I’ve got something I’d like to show you.”
“Okay!” Jonah ran, weaving his way around the chairs on Chris’ deck. Chris and Corinne followed, Chris’ excitement ramping up as they moved through the living room.
He paused just outside the door of the room he’d had done for Jonah. It had been empty until he came home and hoped they’d make it down.
“Ready?” Chris asked.
“Yes!” Jonah yelled at the same time Corinne said, “What did you do?”
The room was what Chris had dreamed about as a kid. Bunk beds with a slide from the top bunk. Superhero curtains (not totally his doing) but the room felt… It felt like an invitation for them to be part of his life, and he was more desperate for it every day. He’d gotten a taste of being part of a family, and now he couldn’t imagine not having that.
“Woo!” Jonah clambered up the ladder and flew down the slide.
Corinne stood in the doorway, her eyes wide. “Chris...This is…”
“I knew it would freak you out.” He stepped toward her and rested a hand on her arm. “This was totally selfish on my part. I wanted Jonah to feel… I didn’t want him to feel like I invited him because of you. I want him to feel like I want him here in the way I do.”
“You are not real. I’m waiting for…” She glanced around the room again. “I’m waiting for the reality of us instead of the novelty of us to settle in to your brain. And then we’ll see if you want us around.”
He cupped her cheek and rested against the wall. “I have never felt more at home than I feel when I’m with you. Here. There. At my mom’s house. On the beach. In the car. That’s just geography. Home isn’t geography.”
Her smile had an edge of disbelief as her eyes met his. “How… How do you always know what to say?”
“Because I’m in the right place.”
Jonah leapt on him from behind, wrapping his small hands around Chris’ stomach. “Thank you!”
“Okay.” Chris turned and walked Jonah back to the bed. “You need us, you just knock on the wall, okay?”
Jonah nodded.
“We’re up one more flight of stairs, okay?”
Jonah nodded again.
“And I know the room is kind of exciting because that slide is awesome.” Chris smi
rked. “But if Corinne doesn’t think you can sleep in here, you might be stuck on the hard floor in my room.”
Jonah frowned.
“That’s what I thought.”
And then he got to check for sugar bugs, and help Jonah pick out pajamas and the routine he’d fallen in love with in Washington had followed him to his house. He had to find a way for it to follow him everywhere.
TWENTY
Jonah was heavy-lidded when Corinne left the room Chris had set up, the excitement finally fading into exhaustion.
Chris pulled her into his arms the second they closed Jonah’s door. She didn’t know if she should start asking questions now or later.
“What is it?” he whispered.
A voice in her head screamed to let it all go, to relax in his arms and forget every nagging feeling, but that wasn’t her anymore. “There are people with cameras at the end of your driveway. You didn’t warn me before I came down. You weren’t there at the airport after begging us to come…”
His arms tightened. “I’m so sorry. Cameras are normal before tour. And Lita’s been in and out with her new boyfriend that no one knows, and that everyone wants to know, so you can blame her.”
He was trying to tease, but the whole thought of pictures and being out of control sent her heart racing. “I don’t like it here. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
He grasped her hand and turned away from her, flipping off the lights on the main floor and leading her to his room. “Your bag is upstairs.”
“Thanks.” She really tried not to look at the shape of him in front of her. Feel how familiar he felt. How safe. Nothing about this was safe, and she wasn’t sure how much of her feelings she should trust. Her head screamed for her to walk away.
He paused when they stepped into his large room, turned, and held a hand, resting his arm on her lower back and starting a slow salsa. “Remember last time we were here?”
“Don’t make me feel like this was just a booty call.”
They danced a few more steps in silence. “So much more than that.”
“Like what?” she asked, trying not to let the movement force her guard down...totally unsuccessfully.
“Like you choosing to come here to see me.” He took a few more steps. “This is enough. You here is enough. You here with Jonah is even better.”
“Do I want to know about the magical kids’ bedroom downstairs?” she asked.
“I went overboard,” he whispered as his hand slid less on her back and more down her curves, up her sides. “I just wanted him to know that I’m excited that you two will be spending time here.”
Would they?
She’d nearly hyperventilated four times since getting off the plane. Corinne wasn’t sure if she could handle the stress of the publicity that Chris faced. His life.
“We’re dancing to no music.”
His mouth trailed kisses up her neck. “That’s because I like moving with you.”
Heat rushed up her body, flushing her cheeks as the tiredness from the flight and her surroundings started to slip away.
“Think you can forget about everything but us for a while?” he asked.
“How long a while?”
Fisting her shirt in his hands and pressing their hips together he answered, “Until you say give.”
Done.
All the stress and frustration and pre-tour insanity had disappeared in the wake of the woman sleeping naked next to him. He didn’t want to try and go back to sleep, even though he should, because he didn’t want to miss any of her. They hadn’t talked about how long she’d stay, but as he ran his fingers over the curve of her waist, he hoped she’d take more than the weekend. Maybe forever.
Did people really fall this fast?
A year ago, Chris knew something had to change, and that sent him on a journey of becoming sober and leaving the band and his safety net. And then the horrid months where he couldn’t write, and then one day with this woman made him feel whole again. Like she had parts of him he didn’t realize were missing until he got them back.
He hated thinking about any of the practical sides of them being together because that’s when the whole thing felt impossible. Even if he wanted to back away from the tour and give it all up, he’d be screwing over a lot of people who were depending on him for work. Not just Lita, Griffin, and now Donovan. But the crew. The bus drivers… There was so much support staff. On top of that, he… Music was the biggest part of him. Walking away from that felt like… It wasn’t an option.
But what if it came down to a choice between the two?
It was impossible. And Corinne wouldn’t want the shell of a guy he’d be without his words and notes and lyrics and strings. He’d been that guy just out of rehab, and he wasn’t fun.
He placed a kiss on her shoulder and slid his arm over her stomach, bringing their bodies together. Corinne mumbled something in her sleep, turned and rested her face against his chest, her breathing immediately slowing again.
His heart ached as if she were thousands of miles away. He’d never hold her close enough. Tight enough. Do enough to help her know how he felt.
“I love you, Corinne,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Lips on his arm. Chest. Stomach. He grinned as he blinked and slowly let himself wake up again. He hadn’t even meant to drift back off.
“Morning,” she whispered, and from that one word, even in a whisper, he knew she was smiling.
He tipped her chin up with a finger and planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth.
“No!” She squealed and turned away. “Morning breath!”
Chris laughed, tugging her waist, pulling her back toward him. “I don’t care.”
“I do!” She wriggled and buried her face.
“Okay, fine.” He let her go and jerked open the drawer of his nightstand. “You want a strawberry tic-tac, an orange tic-tac or a minty one?”
“Strawberry.” He felt her shift in bed behind him. “You seriously have choices?”
“Yeah.” He pulled out the unopened strawberry and rolled back over. “Some people are weird about their breath in the morning,” he teased.
Corinne’s face shifted a bit. Her smile fell.
What was that about?
“Right. And you need to be prepared...for when you have people over.”
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
Corinne propped up on her elbow, the sheets tucked tightly under her arms. “So…” She pulled open the top. “How many people have you shared tic-tacs with up here?”
Oh, shit. Of course. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.
“I mean…” Corinne bit down on the first candy, still staring at the box. “I mean, I’m guessing you have no idea how many women you’ve—”
“No.”
“But up here.” She glanced around the room, never making eye contact.
He flopped onto his back and bit down on the four orange tic-tacs he’d stuffed in his mouth. “I don’t know.”
“Like three to five?” she asked. “Or thirty…?”
“More than three. Not much. Actually, up here?” He racked his brain trying to remember. He didn’t bring women to his room in his house. Not often. “Three…” he trailed off. “Why is this important?”
She carefully tipped the box of tic-tacs and slipped another small pink candy into her mouth. “It’s not. I mean… This is stupid.”
He touched the back of her hand, stroking his fingers up her arm. “It isn’t stupid if it bothers you, but I can’t do anything about the guy I used to be.”
Her dark eyes found his and the worry there hit him in the gut.
Dammit, he had to fix this. “I can’t… Yeah. I’ve had sex with a lot of people. No, I don’t have anything dangerous that I could pass on to you.” Was that the fear?
“There’s the ever-present fear of being one of the numbers. I don’t know how to get away from that.”
He gave her arm a gentle tug, hoping she’d come closer, but inst
ead she turned away and sat on the bottom of the bed facing the ocean. Her brown skin glowed in the morning light, accentuating the curve of her waist against the white sheets. She was incredible.
“Corinne…” he started, but what the hell could he really say? She wasn’t a number? Of course he knew that. And part of her knew it too, but it didn’t feel like enough.
His phone beeped. And then again. She turned partially toward him.
“We’re ignoring that,” he said.
She gave a half nod and looked back out at the water.
This was stupid. He scooted forward, resting a leg on each side of her and his chin on her back. “I’m not too stubbly am I?”
“No.” He heard the smile in her words. One step better.
He kissed her back. “I’ve had sex with three women that I really cared about, so let’s go to that list. It may make me an incurable asshole to not count anyone I didn’t care about, or to say that I had sex with people I didn’t care about…” If he kept going on this track, he was going to put his foot in his mouth something huge. “My high school girlfriend. She counts. She was my first. Rainy Brinkler. The next one that counts is the girlfriend I had when I first joined Kincaid. My college girlfriend. I worshipped her, and then the music and the touring and the drugs distracted me. When we broke up, I thought she was being unreasonable, but looking back, I was probably just being an asshole.”
He felt Corinne’s muscles loosen as he leaned against her more fully, resting his chin on her shoulder and watching the early morning boaters.
“And now you.”
“Five,” she said quietly. “And that’s all of them.”
Five was her total number. But she had to know what his life had been like before her—especially after dating Jaxen. “I don’t need to hear—”
But she continued. “It’s only fair. Almost my high school boyfriend who dumped me, prompting my early move to LA. We didn’t quite have sex, so I guess he doesn’t count. My LA boyfriend that just sort of happened because we were roommates, which is a pretty crappy way to lose your virginity. He dumped me when I realized he was seeing other people and I asked him to stop. Jaxen, who you know about. John, who I was going to marry, and you.”