mangy bandmates? Right. Not happening.
He blew off the layer of dust on the box and took out a couple of lemon cookies to arrange on the plate on the counter. His mother would be proud.
Taking a bite of cookie, he cocked his head. Tasted okay. Didn’t smell funny. Probably fine.
Maybe the sweets would get Chloe to start talking.
He wanted to ask questions. Lots of questions. Like why she seemed to be barely holding on to her composure, and why her fingers shook every time she fiddled with her hair. Hair she’d forgotten to tie back for once. Maybe she’d tell him what was going on if he gave her space. Demanding never seemed to get him anywhere.
Chloe was on the phone when he walked back into the living room with the two glasses and plate of cookies.
“Sure it’s okay if he spends the night? I can call my dad, see if he can—”
“Or he can come here,” Michael interrupted, setting down the drinks and plate. “This is his home now too.”
It felt more than a little weird to have her there—and to invite her son to move in as well. But she was his wife, so that made Axl his stepson.
So freaking weird. And yet nice in a way. Especially since the kid wasn’t there to remind him of all the ways he wasn’t cut out to be a parent, step or otherwise.
Chloe shot him a look and rose to walk to the French doors, stopping dead as if he’d just realized how close he was to the beach. From her end of the conversation, it was either that or she’d had some kind of mental break.
“Ah, yes, um, yeah tomorrow. Yes, I’ll get him. Noon? Oh, great, right. Um, thanks. You’re a lifesaver. I’ll call Axl tonight in bed. I mean before bed. Okay, bye.” She clicked off and tucked her phone into her pocket, then stepped forward and pressed her palms to the glass. Almost as quickly, she dropped her hands and started buffing the glass with her shirt. “Holy shit. You’re on the beach.”
“Above the beach, but yeah. Is Axl okay? Where is he?”
“With my neighbor, Lori. He’s fine. I can’t even think with that out there.”
He took the opportunity to cup her shoulders and rest his chin on her head. “You like the view?”
“Like it? Are you crazy? How do you live here every day and do anything but look out?”
He didn’t tell her he forgot to even glance outside some days. He’d gotten too used to the view, too jaded.
Feeling her tremble from excitement made him see it all as if it were the first time. The strip of white sand beach, the relentless roll of water toward the shore, the sparkle of the waves under the fading sun. It was almost time for the sunset, and he couldn’t wait to experience it with her.
“Wait here,” he murmured.
She barely glanced back as he headed into his bedroom to grab the light blanket off the end of the bed. He barely used it even in the winter, since he was perennially hot. But she’d get chilly outside as the sun went down.
And if things progressed the way he hoped, she could use it as a cover-up.
He came back out to find her still staring through the glass. She hadn’t opened the door and gone on the balcony. Did she think he’d snatch away the toys if she enjoyed herself too much?
“Let’s go out,” he said, stroking a hand down her hair.
The instant he opened the door, she flew across the space and right to the rail. So much for being afraid of heights.
Smiling, he watched her lean forward so that her loosened hair blew in the breeze like a banner. “I smell it,” she said over the wind. “The ocean. Oh, God. Michael.”
After he set the blanket on the chaise, he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. It was cheating to take advantage. So not fair. He should let her have her moment, and not take something for himself.
Being near her was like standing in the path of the sun. As much as he just wanted to bask in her warmth, he needed more. Had to taste every part of her and remind himself that even if none of this made sense, even if it never did, he didn’t have doubts when it was just the two of them.
Was it insane? Sure. Absolutely. An insanity he craved.
Maybe that was all he