“How could you marry her?” Alan exclaims, his timbre carrying to the four corners of the yard without effort. “How the fuck do you live with yourself?”
Numb with disbelief, I frantically try to make sense of what I’m seeing in Alan’s eyes and hearing in his words, but before I can do either he turns to leave.
Then everything happens all at once, so quickly my mind can’t keep up: Neil grabbing Alan by the shoulder; whirling him around; the sound of his fist landing in Alan’s jaw; the explosion of flashes as the press runs toward us, cameras snapping pictures with each step; the shouted questions from every direction.
“You fucking stay away from her,” Neil growls, standing above Alan. “You don’t talk to her. You don’t try to see her. You stay the fuck away from my wife and from me.”
Stunned, I can’t find my words.
For some reason my gaze desperately moves to Alan and not Neil. Our eyes lock. Alan says nothing. He stares at me and my heart jumps into my throat. Why are those great black eyes so full of pity and anguish as they look at me?
Before I can make reason of it, Neil is dragging me to the house, shouting no comment with every step. Inside he pulls me with him to a bedroom, slams the door and locks it. I stare at him, afraid and unsure how to manage this.
His fingers drop away from my wrist and he moves to the bathroom. Oh crap, he’s bleeding. What have I done?
“We should go to the hospital, Neil. You might have broken something.”
His jaw clenches and unclenches as he holds his hand under running water. After a few minutes he shuts the tap off and wraps his hand in a towel.
In the bathroom doorway, he stops, staring at me with eyes wild with pain and something else I’ve never before seen. The knot in my throat becomes strangling.
“I don’t ever want to talk about this,” he says with a quiet voice that makes me jump. “I don’t want to know what you did in there with him. Not ever.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure where he’s going with this.
Those green eyes lock on mine. “Do you want our marriage, Chrissie? Or do you want him?”
Neil waits for my answer, and the expression on his face turns my mind blank. I speak without even attempting thought. “I want you, Neil. I want you.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I sit on a chaise lounge in the hot July sun, watching Neil and Jack side by side deep in conversation as my dad flips burgers on the grill.
As awful as that scene was with Alan at the party three months ago, after the press furor died down—I push from my mind the avalanche of terrible tabloid press each and every one of us got after the punching incident—everything in our life has somehow jelled in a wonderful way. Whatever small doubts I still had the day I married Neil, they are gone today.
As impossible as it seems, the events have only brought Neil and Jack closer to each other. It’s almost as if my dad’s respect for Neil has deepened, their bond strengthened in mutual disregard for how they think Alan Manzone unfairly treated me. It would serve none of us if I explained that I was the one who behaved badly and had been unkind to Alan.
Some secrets are meant to be kept forever.
Another snippet of that day claims my thoughts. The look in my dad’s eyes, standing stunned and silent, staring at Alan sprawled out on the grass and Neil snarling in his face. I could see when the pieces connected in Jack’s head, the look of anger mingled with shock, when he figured out the abortion I had last year was mine and Alan’s. I was so ashamed, I never wanted Jack to know this, and it was definitely a betrayal to Alan, but it all smoothed out on its own.
Alan left the scene like a gentleman. I never expected that one. He apologized to Jack, didn’t press charges against Neil, and quietly went away. I haven’t heard a peep from him since that day, and something in how he looked at me that last time has stuck with me. I can’t define it, it was a strange kind of thing, and yet it made me sharply aware that Alan and I didn’t end that day. We are still connected by life in a way I can’t label yet. Connected and always will be. I don’t know how, but I am certain of it.
Strange, even knowing that isn’t an internally messy thing for me.
As for my dad, in what should have been the ultimate Chrissie low moment, somehow it wasn’t. Jack remained calm through it all and I often wonder if, in the silent chambers of Jack’s mind, he really enjoyed someone slamming a fist in the face of that fucker for a change.
I don’t know. It’s strange. But Neil and I have been in a really good place since the Alan incident. Jack and Neil have been really good. Life is simple if you let it be. You can be happy if you let yourself be.
My gaze floats around the patio, taking in the rowdy Stantons lounging everywhere. It’s nice that Jack included them for Neil’s send-off on the road, and to keep the party casual so they’d feel comfortable in the Hope Ranch house.
I laugh and lower my gaze to fix on my glass of ice tea. A family of law enforcement on the same lawn as Jack. Jeez, I would have never believed this one would work well, but even the Stantons have effortlessly folded into our tiny Parker clan. One giant family surrounding me in Santa Barbara when the house was always too quiet here.
Life is good. Very good. I’m happy.
I hear my name and, startled, I look up. “What, Neil?”
Neil gives me an affectionately chiding look. “The second we got married you stopped listening to me.”
I roll my eyes.
“Welcome to marriage, son,” I hear Michelle Stanton heckle from across the pool and her husband, Robert, explodes in laughter beside me.
Neil gives a pointed stare to his dad, and then looks at my dad. “Why don’t you help me out here? Why don’t you talk to your daughter? Tell her that it’s better for our marriage if she goes out on the road with me.”
Jack shakes his head. “Nope. Not doing it. I’m staying out of this one.”
“I’m not traveling with you anymore, Neil,” I announce firmly. “Not ever. Never. Done.”
He stares at me, exasperated. “We had an agreement when we got married. They were your rules, Chrissie. Not mine. And now you’re breaking them.”
“Yep, that’s marriage,” Robert Stanton says under his breath. All the Stantons laugh again and I laugh with them.
Jeez, how could I have forgotten how delightfully obnoxious the Stantons are? I love having them here. I love that they give Neil such shit. What an incredible family to be a part of.
I sink my teeth into my lower lip. Neil is so adorable when he’s frustrated and everyone is ganging up on him. He may be a bright rising star in the recording industry, but here, he’s just Neil.
I can feel my eyes are sparkly when I look back to him. “We need to buy a house. We need a home, Neil. We can’t live out of a suitcase forever.”
He shakes his head, raking his messy waves back from his face with a hand. “We don’t need a house. We’re going to be on the road the next fifteen months. When we’re not on tour we can stay here with Jack.”
Jack looks up from the grill. “Like hell you can.”
There is more laughter all around us.
“I’m not going, Neil, I can’t,” I repeat with more emphasis, more meaning.
Neil grows perfectly still. His eyes become enormous as he stares at me. “Can’t? What do you mean you can’t?”
I feel my cheeks color and my heart warm as I meet his gaze. “I mean I’m not breaking our agreement. I’m keeping our agreement. I can’t go on tour with you. And we really do need a house, Neil.”
He rushes across the patio, dropping to his knees in front of my chaise. Those lush green eyes are wide, hopeful, and excited.
“Are you sure?” he asks anxiously.
I nod. “Pretty damn sure.”