Broken Crown

by Susan Ward

  “I’m here for good. Moving back to Malibu.”

  Nothing. No reaction.

  It’s an asinine comment but maybe it will make her laugh or thaw a little.

  “We’ll probably be running into each other out in the clubs more often.”

  She rolls her eyes. “What’s happening with you and my mother?”

  Oh, so that’s what’s got her all anxious and worried and angry. The possibility that I’m doing a fuck and run? Or is it the possibility of me in her universe? Christ, she used to love me. How did everything get so fucked up with her?

  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 h
er 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.”

  Her eyes stray to my mouth. I kiss her, consuming her kiss, reveling in the taste of her. Her breathing is harsh, like mine.

  She pulls back, breathless. “What’s your better idea? This one isn’t enough for me.”

  My hands flatten on her back, guiding her into my kiss. My lips move softly at first, claiming her, possessing her, and building…building…then I’m consumed by her as I try to pour everything I feel for her into this kiss.

  “I love you,” I murmur, my voice hoarse, my blood raging, my thoughts careening. “We still have time, Chrissie, to have a wonderful life together. I don’t want to waste even a minute of it. Let me be here with you. However it works out. Let me love you, however you want it. Whatever you need from me, let me give it. However you want me, I’m yours. But let’s not waste any more time, baby. Marry me.”

  Chapter 15

  Two months later

  Oh fuck. I’ve overslept. That’s Bach’s Air on a G String pouring from the ceiling speakers. Chrissie is already in motion for the day. I probably won’t catch her again until midnight.

  How the hell does she manage this pace?

  I stretch out in bed. Fuck, I’m fully erect. Hard. Ready to go. And she’s not here. She knows the agreement. 4 a.m. to 7 a.m. is our time. I grab my cell phone from the night table.

  Shit, it’s after eight.

  Why the fuck did she let me sleep through the morning?

  Early morning has become Pavlovian to me.

  Oh, my favorite part of the day with her.

  Doesn’t she get that yet?

  I sit up and scan the room. Carafe of coffee on the nightstand. Thank you, Chrissie. No wife in room. Still too much sunlight in here even with the shades pulled down over every window.

  I definitely need to reopen the discussion about moving. This house is too small. Anything short of fifteen thousand square feet with separate wings for everyone is too small. And I’m certainly not hot on the notion of living permanently in Pacific Palisades without a wall for privacy and security.

  No, not doing that one, Chrissie. Time for another round of intense—probably futile—negotiations. Well, she might surprise me. She’s not always a pain in the ass, rigid and inflexible. She wasn’t that morning on the patio when she agreed to marry me. I can still feel it in my body exactly how it felt when she finally said yes…

  * * *

  I am sprawled on a backyard sofa with Chrissie draped over my body. It’s nearly sunrise. I don’t want to let go of her. I don’t want to leave. I feel completely sated. Lying here with her, doing nothing but quietly touching.

  Fully aroused and sated at once.

  “Say it again. I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” I whisper into her ear.

  Chrissie laughs. She lifts her face and stares at me. “Yes, I will marry you, Alan. It was yes when you asked me. It was yes an hour ago. It’s still yes.”

  We both laugh.

  I hug her tightly, kissing the top of her head. “We can go to Nevada today. Get married there. No wait.”

  “No, I’m not doing that.”

  The tone of her voice—oh shit, she married Neil there.

  “Fine. Then when?”

  I stroke her hair and wait. I’m happy. Don’t ruin it, Chrissie. Not now. Tell me something I want to hear, baby.

  “We need blood tests in California. It’s a three-day wait.”

  Oh fuck. She’s organizing it in her head.

  I take her face in my hands and move her head so I can stare into her eyes. “What is that? Four days’ time, tops? Fine. We’ll get married Thursday. Pick a place.”

  Chrissie frowns. “You’re ridiculous. Four days, Alan? Not going to happen. I need more time. I want to get married somewhere quiet and beautiful. A place special to both of us. Where we can have the kids and some of our friends. Nothing elaborate. But I want it special.”

  Damn. Special. That’s going to take a minimum of a year for her to pull together.

  “So here’s what I’m thinking,” she says and I tense. I lift my head from the pillow so I can study her face and see where this is going. “No in regards to Thursday. Not happening. Not workable. But if we invite only the people we really like—”

  “—I don’t like anyone but you. Does that make it easier? Will it make it sooner?”

  She laughs and makes a face. “No. Best I can do—and it’s a limited time offer, not subject to negotiation—Sunday in Santa Barbara at Jack’s. Then we can leave Jack the kids and slip away. How about Sunday? You in?”

  * * *

  You in? Her voice floats through my memory and I laugh. Yep, I’m all in, Chrissie. I wasn’t sure I would be, but I am. And the last two months have been the best months of my life, baby.

  Now where the hell are you?

  I hear talking from the closet. She’s on the phone. Damn, she’s dressing.

  I turn onto my side, reclined on a hip with my cheek in my palm, facing the doorway. I hear the sound of hangers against the bar. She’s shoving outfits aside. She hasn’t dressed yet. I’m not out of the game yet. I can get her back into bed.

  She rushes into the bedroom. Ah, my wife—my sexy, beautiful wife, wearing only panties and bra, her outfit for the day still on hangers in her hands.

  I’m definitely still in the game.

  She drops her clothes onto the chair in front of the full wall mirror, tosses her cell onto a table and then hurries across the room to me.

  “How long have you been awake?” she asks, placing a fast kiss on my lips and then moving out of reach back in front of the dressing mirror.

  I lock eyes with her in the glass. “Not long. Why didn’t you wake me earlier? We had a deal. You’re mine first thing every morning before you start your day. It doesn’t even look like you’re going to have coffee with me today.”

  She laughs and reaches for a blouse. “Wasn’t going to happen so I let you sleep. You got in late from New York last night. I started my period last night. Wasn’t going to happen this morning.”

  “I don’t care if you’re on your period. You know that. Baby, it’s been four days since we’ve been together.”

  She makes a face. “You should care if I get my period, Alan. Because of my age, my best health option is getting my tubes tied. Why don’t you just get snipped? It’s easier for you to get cut. Until you do that, you better care a lot every time I get my period.”

  I rake a hand through my hair as I shake my head. “Very funny. Don’t even joke about that.”

  She laughs.

  I stare at her. “Come to bed, Chrissie. I feel cheated. I’m on the road in ten days. I don’t want to waste a single morning I have with you before I leave.”

  She stops what she’s doing. She runs her teeth over her lower lip several times as she studies me. Hmm, she’s thinking about it. It’s going to be a miserable four months without her now that I know again the pleasure of always being with her.

  “Come back to bed, baby,” I whisper, my voice raspy and low in that way that usually gets me my way with her.

  She exhales loudly. “I can’t. My moderately overloaded day just turned into major overload and shitstorm.”

  She sounds upset. No point in pushing. It
’s not going to happen. I pour a cup of coffee and wait for her to explain what the hell has happened now.

  I sip my coffee and watch her dress. I wish I could have a smoke without going out onto the patio. That’s not going to happen either. Other than learning to fuck on a schedule and smoking outside it’s been a hassle-free transition: my living here, the kids, and us being married.

  Chrissie wanted to move slowly for the kids, but somehow we ended up marrying three weeks after I landed in California. And her worry over this change proved unnecessary. The kids didn’t think anything about it. They were all pretty cool with it when we told them we were getting married, and it’s working out well, surprisingly well.

  Krystal is practically my shadow.

  The boys are oblivious to everything.

  I get to spend most of the day with Khloe.

  That’s amazing.

  I’m with Chrissie fulltime.

  That’s beyond amazing.

  Yep, other than Kaley, no complaints here.

  I take another swallow of coffee and study Chrissie. Yep, I know that expression. Either it’s more nightmarish tabloid press or Kaley’s done something again.

  I set down my cup. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  She reaches for her belt. “I’m supposed to be in the studio all day with Strike at One while they record my new song. But I got a call this morning from Kaley’s school. They want me in there in forty minutes to talk to the Dean and her counselor.”

  I shrug. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

  She shoves her feet into her shoes and comes to the bed. “No, Alan. It’s not nothing. They don’t call you in on the first day of Spring Break, school administrators don’t work when they are on break, unless it’s something pretty bad.”

  Oh fuck. The kids are out of school for two weeks. And shoot, Chrissie’s right, this issue with Kaley is going to be unpleasant.

  I make a sympathetic downward curl of my lips. “You don’t know for sure that something is wrong, Chrissie. Don’t get upset until there is a reason to.”

  She nods. She lays her forehead against mine.

  “Who would have thought you’d work out to be such a good team player?” she whispers. “And you are absolutely terrific with Khloe. She likes you more than she likes me.”