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“I learned a lot.”
He let out a laugh and shook his head. “If you end up naked and enjoying it, trust me, you’re not in a combat situation.”
“I got distracted.” She stood and stared. “But I’m going to need more SEAL lessons. I have a feeling we have a lot of ground to cover.”
His expression turned serious. “You know I’m heading back to work as soon as I’m cleared.”
“And I have a tour to finish, plus a new album to launch.” She pulled on her shorts. “But until then?”
He pushed himself up off the bed. “Yeah, until then, I’m yours.”
I’m yours.
Chrissie heard those words over and over as if they’d been set to repeat. Until he could return to the job he loved, he was hers. Her bodyguard. Her teacher. Her lover.
For now.
She understood passion and drive. And she admired his desire to serve. No, she’d never want to take him away from that. Even if it meant having all of his love and loyalty focused on her.
Even if he offers his heart and commitment, it will probably shatter under the weight of my career—and his.
“I’ll walk you back to your room.” He reached for his jeans. “And this time, I’m staying in your suite until it’s time for you to report to the stage. No more wandering alone in crazy outfits.”
“I think you might change your mind about the outfits,” she said as she picked up her backpack and headed for the door. “You haven’t seen my librarian’s costume yet.”
He pulled on his shirt and then picked up his key off the desk. “I bet you blend right in.”
“Your father’s coming.”
Chrissie stepped back. Her calves bumped into the greenroom couch, and she sank down onto the cushions. She glanced at Dante standing guard by the door. Before her mother had burst into the room, she’d been wondering which disguise to wear to his room later that night.
Naughty librarian? She had a fake pair of wire glasses and a brown wig that might work for that outfit. Or sexy schoolgirl? She’d caught him staring at her legs when she’d exited the stage in Portland wearing one of her tiny sequined dresses. She needed to buy the knee-high stockings, and she might draw some strange looks in the elevator—this was Salt Lake City, after all, not liberal Portland—but it would probably be worth it. As long as no one recognized her.
But then her mother burst in and, as if she could read her daughter’s mind, announced her father’s arrival.
I hope she doesn’t have a window into my imagination. If she did, she’d know I’ve been picturing Dante naked and on top of me after our next lesson.
Between the show in Portland, packing up, and riding on the buses with the rest of the crew to Utah, there hadn’t been enough time or privacy to practice her SEAL skills. But privacy might be scarce with her entire family joining the tour…
“He’s bringing the twins?” she asked.
“No, they’re spending the rest of spring break at Disney World with some friends and their families.” Her mother headed for the coffeemaker.
Oh no, she doesn’t need more caffeine.
A second later, Melissa skipped into the room and headed for Dante. He broke into a wide smile and gave her little sister a high five. Then he leaned over and whispered something in her ear.
“Cookies!” Melissa cried, her eyes widening as she scanned the room and spotted the platter on the catering table. She raced over and selected a chocolate chip.
“I told your father to fly out,” her mother said, turning to face Chrissie with a Styrofoam cup clutched in her hand. “If I didn’t, he’d spend the next five days at home feeling sorry for himself instead of helping here, where he’s needed.”
Chrissie nodded. But unlike her mother, she didn’t hold her dad’s prolonged grief against him. He’d lost his son. And the death had crushed him. Plus, one more parent trying to guide her career from the sidelines sounded like a recipe for disaster, not “help.” She knew her mother believed they should pitch in and do their part to steer the career that supported the entire family.
“Mom, go easy on him,” she said as Melissa settled down beside her on the sofa. Chrissie held out her hand. Her little sister broke her cookie in half and then deposited the smaller piece in Chrissie’s palm.
“I want to help him,” her mother said, her tone defensive.
Chrissie bit into the cookie instead of screaming Then take care of him! Love him like you did before.
