She steps back. “It is good that you are here.”

She says that in a heavy, worried sort of way. She’s part of Chrissie’s family. She knows everything and what she thinks matters here.

“Everything has been all right, hasn’t it?”

She nods. “The kids, they are mostly good. They miss Señor Jesse. Kaley the most. That girl—” She crosses herself quickly. “—she needs a firm hand. I do not know what’s happened to mi niña. The changes, it has been hardest on her. It breaks my heart to see her so angry and in pain.”

She brushes at her cheeks, removing tears that broke through her iron control.

I nod, and though it’s petty, I feel a slight relief knowing that it’s not just me Kaley is hostile with. Lourdes is definitely concerned about the girl.

“It will be all right, Lourdes. These things take time to mend. Kaley is a good girl. She’ll work through this soon.”

Her brows lift. “How long are you here for?”

I shrug. “Three months. I go out on the road in April again. Last four months of the tour. After that, I don’t know. I’m thinking of moving back to Malibu permanently.”

Her face brightens.

Fuck, where did that come from?

I haven’t thought about that even once.

“You are a good man. You will be a good father, too. La niña needs a father. Don’t disappoint me. I will not like you if you do.”

Her finger pokes into my chest with each word. My reaction to that is an odd mix. I bite back a smile, but inside every part of me is roiling. Lourdes knows I’m Khloe’s father and I’m surprised how much it matters to me to know she approves. And I’ve just been told by the housekeeper not to be a fuckup.

“I’ll do my best, Lourdes. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

She nods again approvingly.

“You won’t disappoint me, Señor Alan. I am certain of this. Are you staying for dinner? Mrs. Harris, she has not eaten today. I was about to make her dinner.”

I have a sudden impulse to kiss her. I drop a peck on her forehead. “Set a plate, but I’m not sure if I’m staying.”

She smiles and nods.

I go to the studio and enter quietly. I stare through the glass and smile. Chrissie is hunched over the piano, focusing on the sheets she has spread across the top, chewing a pencil.

A brilliant songwriter, but methodical. I can tell by her posture that she’s nearly finished with something and she’s pleased with it.

Not a good time to interrupt her.

She probably hasn’t had two minutes to focus on anything except the kids since Jesse—

I cut off my thoughts.

I’m not ready to think about him.

I settle on the chair in front of soundboard and prop up my feet, content to just watch her. Wispy images of the night we first met float through my head. How stunning she was, even at eighteen, in a denim skirt, UGG boots, and playing the cello in Jack’s studio.

What was it I said to her through the intercom when she realized someone was watching her beyond the glass? It was probably inane. Something to keep her there. Ah. Yes. Theatrical, but it suited her.

“Don’t open your eyes. I’m not going to hurt you and if you open your eyes this will do you no good.”

Then I kissed her forehead and those gorgeous eyes flew wide. I was only messing with her, trying to figure out if I was interested enough in her to fuck her, but how it ended up was poetic justice. She looked at me. That was it. Took me for a walk on the beach. Chattered away in nonsensical drivel. Let me kiss her once. That was all. And she had me. I left her house without even trying to fuck her.

Remorse moves in my veins. I was such an arrogant bastard back then and it did turn out to be a lie, the part about me not hurting her, because I did hurt her. A lot. I didn’t intend to. I never wanted to do anything but love her.

Music floats through the intercom, filling the room with piano and her. I lean my head back, closing my eyes, savoring the sound. The sexy huskiness of her voice when she sings. It’s like the feel of her touching my body. I get a hard-on just listening to her.

Fuck, she’s amazing.

She could have been the biggest female vocalist in the industry. Ever. But she didn’t want it. Most artists spend their entire careers scrambling. Fighting to stay on top of the charts. They compete with themselves every minute, afraid to become irrelevant. But oh no, not Chrissie. She never does anything she doesn’t want to do. She quietly stepped back when she married Jesse. And she became anything but irrelevant. Artists beg to record her music.

She’s has it all, her way, always.

“How long have you been here?” Chrissie’s voice, rich with amusement, penetrates my thoughts.

I open my eyes to find her leaning against the board, close to me, smiling.

“About two hours.”

Her eyes sparkle and she laughs. “Really? Two hours. You’ve survived alone, two hours, here.”

Her manner is light, silly, to hide what she’s thinking. She is still cautious. Not sure about what direction to go with us. Not sure about me.

I shrug. “It wasn’t so bad. It’s nearly an empty house in there.”

She laughs again and eases into me, finally breaking the awkward and agonizing separateness between us we both seem strangely committed to keep. Her hand on my chest shoots sensation through my body. Her lips touch mine, a fast greeting kiss, nothing more. I fight not to pull her against me and turn this into what it should be.

The way I want it.

With her.

She lifts her mouth, doesn’t pull completely back and instead places both her palms flat against my shirt. And fuck, the way she’s bent over leaves me a clear view—she’s not wearing a bra—and her tits are so close to me, nipples showing through her cotton tank top, teasing and not touching me.

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asks softly.

I’d rather stay for the night.

I adjust in the chair, willing my body not to respond to my thoughts or her closeness.

“If you want me to,” I say, trying not to overplay my hand too soon.

“Oh yeah. I want. You can stay.”

Her voice shoots through my veins like a Viagra rush and I can’t even begin to decipher the way her eyes are shining at me. I watch, stunned, mute, as she moves a leg until she’s straddling my thighs and sets her ass down on me, curling up against my chest with her arms around me.

Her fingers lightly stroke the back of my neck. She brushes her cheek against my chest. My dick hardens to its full length. From another woman, I’d think I was about to be fucked, right here, right now. But no, that’s not Chrissie.

I try to will down my erection.

Nope, not working.

I lift the hair from her shoulder and lean in, kissing her neck. She moves in to my touch, not away. Maybe this is going where I want it to.

I pull her up into me until that tight little ass is on my cock that’s begging to be freed from my pants. Leaning in, I capture her mouth in a brutal kiss. No hesitation. Her mouth melts beneath mine. I deepen the contact, altering the flow, my hips flexing, my body rubbing her there.

She moans and pulls back, breathless. “God, we feel good tonight. Stay close. It feels good.”

I touch her face. My body is burning. “I’ll stay close. For as long as you want me to. Fuck, you have no idea how much I love you. How much I want you. How much I want this.”

Her fingers dive into my hair, dragging me back into her kiss. There is something in her I’ve never felt before. A different intimacy, more intense, something potent and even beyond sexual, and it’s like a fire running all through her.

I stop grinding into her, and ease both my body and my mouth from her. If I don’t pull back now, I’m going to fuck her on the floor.

I touch her cheek. “What’s gotten into you? Tell me what I did to cause this, love. I’ll do it every day. When I touch you and you feel like this, it makes me out of my mind for you. I don’t even know what this feeling is I’m feeling in you, Chrissie.”