Devotion (12 page)

Just a few feet away from him now, Juliet froze. His back remained to her and the house in general. He wanted privacy. She tightened her grip on the mug. The cadence of his voice—deep and smooth—didn’t strike her as strictly professional.

“I should probably head back in, Chloe.” She detected his regret and started to breathe hard. Juliet nearly dumped the tea, fighting her buckling knees. Still oblivious, Kellen paused again. “Um-hmm, I’m at Juliet’s parents. Kind of a Sunday tradition…” It was then that he turned. “Don’t even worry about it, I don’t mind hearing from you at all…” What she saw in his eyes hit her with the impact of hammer blows. In his eyes was a desire that she had only ever seen directed toward one person. Her.

Until now.

Who in the world was this
Chloe
person? Who was this golden child on the super-fast-track? Juliet had no time to school her troubled features, and when Kellen froze—so much like she just had—she knew she had caught him off guard.

“I’ll, ah, I’ll get back to you…I need to hang up.” His verbal faltering made her blood boil because in it, his guilt was confirmed.

Kellen disconnected the call and slid his phone into the pocket of his slacks. His manner was tight, and his hands seemed to be trembling slightly. He was stumbling, and she knew it.

“I’m sorry I interrupted.” Her voice was deceptively calm. The spice of orange and cinnamon swirled upward on curls of steam, reminding Juliet of why she had come outside in the first place. For him. For his comfort. Tears filled her eyes, overtaking her lashes and dribbling down her cheeks as she ducked her head and blinked furiously. “I…wanted to get you something…something warm to drink since you were out here for a while.”

She had looked away fast, but not before seeing the way his shoulders slumped, the way his eyes were glossed by shame. She held out the mug and Kellen took custody. She closed her eyes, unable to bring herself to face the ugliness that had sprung up between them like grotesque shapes. Once he took the tea, she spun away, needing to leave behind the weedy tangle of her doubts as she tried to get a handle on her relationship with her husband.

Her husband.

Juliet made two steps toward the house then she felt Kellen’s hand slide against her upper arm and hold on tight. “Juliet. Wait.” His voice carried to her in soft entreaty.

Overwrought, she gathered another deep breath, gulping in as much air as she could before turning. “What?”

Again, her tone was deceptively calm, but it was also lifeless. She could tell at once that he struggled to cobble together some form of a reply that would explain the verbiage and tone of his call.

“I had to calm down a nervous—”

“
Bull
, Kellen.” Inside and out, Juliet fumed. Her outward calm transformed into a storm. “That’s
bull
. On a Sunday afternoon? During a gathering with our family? It didn’t sound to me like you minded the interruption very much, and you were out here talking to her for quite a while. Was she
that
upset and worried?” She felt choked off and horrid. Sick. Part of her died inside even
thinking
of Kellen harboring feelings for another woman.

Kellen didn’t release his hold on her. He bent quickly and set the mug down in the grass. Then he held both her arms in a gentle, but firm grip. She wanted to kick the mug straight over and run away.

Fear not, Juliet. I am with you. I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will uphold you with my right hand.

The familiar words, the temperate, loving power of God’s voice were all that held her in place.

“Juliet, please stop and talk to me. What did you hear that upset you so much?”

His attempt to soothe was the last thing Juliet wanted. It felt too placating. “I have a better idea, Kellen. Why don’t
you
talk to
me
for a change? Why don’t you tell me a little more about this Chloe woman you’re so excited about? The woman who consumes so much of your time lately? Why don’t you talk to me anymore with the same degree of tenderness I heard in your voice with her just now? What does she mean to you?”

He took a sharp breath and closed his eyes as though he were attempting to gain control of himself. She wondered about that, because she hadn’t sniped at him. Despite the crusty tracks of her wind-dried tears, she had kept her gaze and her tone as level as possible. Apparently she had struck home with an arrow.

“Juliet, Chloe has a career-changing—
life-
changing—meeting on Monday. As her agent, I’m coaching her through an exceptionally fast and intense growth spurt in her career. She needs the guidance, and that’s what she’s paying me to do.”

With love in your eyes, Kellen? The kind of love I’ve committed my life and my heart to?

“I want to believe you, Kellen, but lately…lately we’ve grown so far apart I don’t know what to think. It scares me! We’re not taking care of each other like we used to. I want to work on it, but…” She lifted her shoulders in resignation. Slipping away from his grasp, she hugged her arms against her middle.

Where an answer to their prayers just might be dawning…

Tears welled up all over again.

Kellen moved close and very tentatively, very gingerly, loosened her arms from their clench. He drew her in tight. “I want to work on us, too, love. I’m here, and I was at church today. I’m with
you
.”

His breath was warm and familiar against her cheek. Wonderful. Juliet had no idea what to do next. The tenor of his conversation with Chloe still riled her. Despite his assurances, the interlude struck her as being wrong. He had been thoroughly present to Chloe. Attentive. Since she missed those aspects of Kellen’s personality in their marriage, perhaps she had overreacted. Maybe she was jealous of an innocent gesture because she missed him so much, because the way he watched out for Chloe is the way she wanted him to look out for her. For
them
.

Was the exchange as innocent as Kellen said? She had no clue. Either she was a mixed-up hormonal mess who imagined conspiracies, or her marriage was falling apart before her very eyes—with no forewarning and a gut-wrenching lack of fanfare.

“Lately,” Kellen began, swaying slowly, “we’ve been struggling to make a way to each other through everything we’ve got going on in our lives. Every couple faces challenges. We’ll make it through this one. Nothing changes my love for you. Nothing.”

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust in him without even a hint of doubt. She rested her head against his chest and waited on God’s voice, praying to hear just an inkling of divine instruction.

Instead of affirmation, a thought occurred to her: Kellen hadn’t really answered her question about Chloe and what she truly meant to him.

11

Just over two weeks later, Chloe was back in the recording studio, this time fully contracted and engaged by Summit Pointe Records.

An added layer of speed and pressure manifested itself for Kellen when Frank Simpson made immediate arrangements for the production of a full-length album and a video for
Swing Time
, which would be her debut release. Kellen walked through the lobby of the building that housed the recording studios of Summit Pointe and paused just long enough to check in at the security desk. He was looking forward to witnessing the beginning of Chloe’s official recording sessions.

During the elevator ride to the fifteenth floor, Kellen thought about the confrontation with Juliet—and that fateful Monday afternoon meeting with Chloe and Frank. The introduction between Chloe and Frank had been an unfocused, haze-shrouded disaster for Kellen. No matter how hard he had tried, he couldn’t concentrate. Instead, he kept thinking about Juliet.

Fortunately, Chloe and Frank had hit it off beautifully. That made it easy for Kellen to fade back while he noted the general terms of the agreement Frank offered. Kellen had vowed to himself that he’d study the document in depth upon receipt, praying that proper focus would be restored by then.

The agreement was a slam-dunk, executed at warp-speed.

“Sometimes it falls together this quickly,” Kellen had assured Chloe once she inked the contract at his office and Weiss McDonald popped a celebratory bottle of champagne.

Kellen had taken a sip and smiled along with the rest of his team, but the champagne turned his stomach sour. All he could think about was Juliet, not a professional victory.

During the course of his career, he had worked with dozens of beautiful women. When he signed them on as clients, his sole purpose was to propel them toward a pathway of mutually beneficial success and nothing more. There had been a few times when a female client’s gratitude had slid into something deeper, but with no effort at all, Kellen turned them away.

He didn’t want, or need, anyone but his wife. He had married the woman of his dreams, the one God had designed for him alone. Juliet was a gorgeous, spirited woman who shared his life fully and in every way imaginable—for better and for worse. Chloe, and women like her, might be attracted to him in a superficial or physical sense, mostly because they confused the magic he worked on their careers with love. Kellen had always made sure he stayed God-centered enough, and grounded enough, to recognize the difference between love and lust.

Therefore, in an industry riddled by disposable relationships, his marriage remained rock solid.

But then had come that nasty episode in the backyard of Juliet’s childhood home.

She knew him better than anyone else did; she sensed what was happening to him. The recognition left him walled in and claustrophobic. He tried to fight the attraction he felt for Chloe, but time and again, his mind returned to the woman. Time and again, he stepped across one emotional boundary, then another and another until the rules of what he knew to be right and wrong became smeared and indiscernible.

The elevator doors glided open and Kellen stepped out. Confusion beat against him from every side. Amidst escalating tensions and unfulfilled needs, the slow-building wave that was Chloe Havermill pushed to shore, gaining momentum, threatening to pull him under.

Embattled, but determined to do his job, Kellen skirted a narrow, empty hallway and pushed open the door leading to the studio. He knew he couldn’t continue to take a sledgehammer to his most meaningful relationship like this, but right now, he needed to take care of his client.

Chloe and Jason Missing greeted him, and Kellen dropped an easy clap against Jason’s shoulder, glad that Frank had given their demo producer a chance to help launch Chloe’s album.

“Hey, Chloe”—Jason rolled his chair forward and leaned against the mixing board—“you should show Kellen the rough cut of that scene from your video.”

Chloe turned in her chair. When she faced Kellen, her eagerness reached out and took hold. He realized she held a DVD that glimmered beneath the ceiling lights as she wiggled it in her hand. “Do you want to see what we have so far?”

“Absolutely.”

“Actually we’ve only recorded the last quarter of the song—the outdoor shots—and I have to return the DVD to Frank’s office before we leave, but I couldn’t wait to show you!”

Kellen moved a chair into place at Chloe’s right, in front of a small, flat-screen monitor. Jason cued the video and after a quick fade in,
Swing Time
moved toward its conclusion. Framed by a cobalt sky and towering trees, the rear of a car could be seen. Tires spun in time to the music and the car peeled off straight and fast down a gravel road with Chloe’s vocals accompanying. The vignette played out of a stunning woman escaping the narrow, tree-lined roadways and wooden shop-fronts of her small town life, moving forward to take on the world.

A quick camera cut later, Chloe’s image filled the screen. Wind blew her hair into sexy, billowing waves. There was sass in her smile as the vocals and lip-synching ended. Then, she used a fingertip to edge down the frame of an oversized pair of sunglasses, revealing eyes that sparkled and danced. She arched a brow and delivered a slow, enticing wink. After that, she shrugged playfully and moved the glasses back into place over those captivating violet eyes.

Seconds later, the screen faded to black.

“No doubt about it. The camera loves you, Chloe.”

Jason’s comment had Kellen stifling a satisfied smile. He had known it all along. A platinum voice packaged in the being of a vibrant woman. Chloe turned her chair toward Jason, and they chatted about the schedule for completing the video. That launched a discussion of the songs they’d be recording today. Kellen listened, but the images he had just seen lingered, transforming into an overwhelming temptation.

He stretched an arm along the back of Chloe’s chair. The gesture looked casual, but felt anything but. His fingertips nearly brushed her shoulder. The skin there beckoned, covered only by the fabric of a pale blue silk shell. He inched just a bit closer…another emotional boundary stretching before him, tickling his awareness, begging to be crossed…

Chloe kept her focus on Jason, but she leaned back just enough that his fingertips now connected with her, gliding against a few strands of satiny hair and warm, dewy skin. Now he couldn’t pull away without being obvious about it. Kellen realized she was playing into the moment of contact as much as he was. He wanted to gasp for breath because his lungs screamed for oxygen, yet all he had done was touch her.

This was insane…

“The team will be reporting for duty in a few minutes. I’m going to grab a pop before we get started.” Jason pushed back from the soundboard with a flourishing spin and then stood from the chair to leave. Once the door closed behind Jason, Kellen stood, and so did Chloe. Their eyes met. A silence, redolent with charged electricity, filled the room.

The vibrations sang against Kellen’s body.

“You know—” Chloe started to speak, but stopped all at once and cleared her throat. She folded her arms across her chest. She looked up once again and a renewed strength flowed from her eyes, heightening the atmosphere even further—if such a thing were possible. “You’re a dream weaver, Kellen.”