I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when your mother tells me.”

I hear a sound like a croak. OK, girl not softening. Not budging an inch. She is her mother’s daughter at times.

Forty minutes later, I pull into Chrissie’s driveway. I park the car, remove the keys, and turn to look at Kaley.

“Before we go, is there anything you want to ask? Anything you want to say to me?”

Stoic, she climbs quickly from the car, but then turns back and leans in enough to stare into my face. Her brown eyes are leveling even in the darkness.

“Yeah. I have some things to say. Don’t do to my sister what you did to me. Don’t come around Khloe if you don’t plan to be here. Stay the fuck out of her life if you’re only going to walk once you get bored. Don’t fuck her up, the way you fucked up me.”

The car door slams in my face. My stomach knots. Oh shit. That she’s got the history wrong—it was Chrissie who walked out on me—doesn’t make that any less harsh to hear. Fuck, no wonder the girl hates me. She’s got everything wrong.

I look through the windshield.

Kaley is already inside the house.

But, fuck, Chrissie is standing on the stoop, looking worried and confused. When I reach her, she steps into me, her face against my chest, and I place my arms around her.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks anxiously. “Kaley just ripped off my head when I asked how she ended up with you. How did you end up with Kaley? I thought you were out having dinner with Kenny.”

I place a light kiss on the top of Chrissie’s head. “It’s no big deal. I ran into her after dinner. She needed a ride. I brought her home.”

Chrissie steps back. She stares up at me. “Why is she crying?”

My insides knot. Crying? When did that start?

I shrug. “She wasn’t happy that I insisted she come home.”

Chrissie studies my face and I keep my expression deliberately blank.

“Well, thank you for bringing her home from wherever it was she wasn’t supposed to be that you won’t tell me about, Alan.”

I wrap an arm around her.

We walk into the house.

“We ran into each other at Velvet Jones.”

“Velvet Jones? My Kaley? She doesn’t go clubbing. She’s not into that sort of thing.”

“I was just cutting out as she got there with Zoe Kennedy. It was a fast crowd tonight. I didn’t think you’d want me to leave her there.”

She molds closer into my chest. Her body is shaking with her worry and concern over Kaley.

“I’ll stay a while if you want me to,” I whisper. “Make sure everything is all right with Kaley before I cut out.”

Chrissie nods. “I don’t know what’s happening to her lately. Every day it’s a new battle. And it’s getting worse.”

I remember Kaley’s comments in the car. She’s got a lot bottled up inside her.

I change the subject. “Thank you for sending the pictures of Khloe. It made my night.”

Chrissie flushes. “I didn’t even realize that I hadn’t given you any until you asked.”

I place a kiss on her lips. “Highlight of my night.”

Her smile grows larger.

“Do you think it would wake Khloe if I make a quick stop in her room?” I ask.

“No. Soundest sleeper in the house. Go on. I was about to pour myself a glass of wine. Do you want one, too?”

“Wine would be nice.”

I lean in and give her another light kiss, and then cross the tile toward the hallway with Chrissie’s bedroom and the nursery. A door slams at the far end of the house from the kids’ wing.

Chrissie jumps and her cheeks redden. “I’ll be right back. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done.”

I frown. “Is everything OK?”

Chrissie’s eyes widen. “Kaley can be dramatic at times.”

Oh fuck. Was Kaley in the hallway listening to us? It seems a bizarre, immature reaction for a girl nearly eighteen to eavesdrop on her mother, and definitely to get upset over me staying for a glass of wine.

I step down the hallway to the nursery and peek over the rail of the crib. She’s wide awake. Our sound sleeper must have been startled by the slammed door.

I pick Khloe up. I’m glad she’s awake. Seeing her brings home how much I want to be here with her. It also brings home Kaley’s parting jibe to me at the car.

I adjust Khloe in my arms. She’s not crying. Probably not hungry. I lift her above me and then lower her face to mine. I kiss her and hold her against my chest. Nothing. No tears. She doesn’t want anything but to go back to sleep.

I settle in the rocker, my lips against her hair. I didn’t think it would feel like this, being a father again, and I never expected to want it as much as I do.

I jerk when I hear a ding. Oh shit. I must have fallen asleep. I take my cell from my pocket.

Chrissie: I’ve been waiting on the patio for twenty minutes. Where are you?

I look at Khloe. Asleep.

Me: She woke up. Be right there.

I wait. Ding. Not a text. A picture. I struggle not to laugh aloud, not wanting to wake up the baby again. Definitely a nice shot even if Chrissie did keep covered the interesting parts of her breasts.

Me: Nope, she doesn’t need those. She’s asleep.

I stare at the photo, overwhelmed by how much I love Chrissie, my heart pounding and my pulse racing. A few lines of text. A picture that doesn’t really let me see anything and Chrissie consumes me in a way no other woman ever could.

Heart.

Body.

Soul.

I carefully rise from the chair, drop a kiss on Khloe’s brow and then set her back into the crib. I stare down at her for a moment.

This is what I want.

This is where I want to be.

I go through the house to the back doors. I step out onto the patio and halt. Chrissie’s eyes meet mine and I drink her in.

She’s sitting on one of the rattan and white-cushioned sofas, her legs curled beneath her. She’s changed from the clothes she was wearing earlier. She’s in a short, black silk nightgown and a kimono-style robe. Her golden hair falls over her gracefully muscled shoulders, framing her lovely face and covering her breasts.

“I can’t ask you to stay the night. I want to, but I can’t,” she murmurs.

“I didn’t think you were going to, but now I wish you would.”

She smiles and sinks her perfect teeth into her lower lip. She gnaws slowly a few times. She’s not going to ask me to bed, but she wants to. I can see it in the tension on her face, the way her irises darken.

“I get what you’re doing and why you’re doing it, Chrissie. There’s a lot going on in your house that doesn’t involve us.” I step toward her. “But would it be all right if we sit out here and talk and wait for the sunrise?”

“I’d like that,” she says, her eyes on mine and softening into lush blue.

I settle beside her, pulling her close until she’s tucked into me, surrounded by my arm.

“We should talk,” she whispers, running the rim of her wineglass against her lips.

Gently, I touch her face with the tips of my fingers and run them down her cheek. “Then we’ll talk until we can’t anymore.”

“There’s so much I need to say to you.”

I start kissing the spot beneath her ear and then work my way to her shoulder. She closes her eyes and angles into my touch. Leaning down, I run my nose along her collarbone and then to the swell of her breasts, inhaling her scent as my passion instantly ignites in my body.

I take the wineglass from her fingers and set it on the table. My fingers move into her hair. I nip at her ear, then touch the lobe with my tongue. “It’s OK that we sit through the night. Talk. Wait for the sunrise—” I kiss the spot where her pulse beats. She moans and holds on to me. “—and maybe touch a little.”

A small laugh. “If you do that again, Alan, I’m going to break my own rules and fuck you right here.”

“Not a bad idea,” I whisper. Grasping her hips, I lift her until she’s sitting on my lap, straddling me. “But I have a better idea.”