Propping the phone between my shoulder and my ear, I pulled the plate of leftover spaghetti from the microwave.

“Where have you been?” I hissed a breath as I walked to the couch, jumbling the hot plate. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours.”

Chase and I had taken the art of phone contact to a new level. I spent half the day with my Bluetooth attached, his voice humming in my ear. Sometimes we even fell asleep like that.

“I had some business to attend to, woman,” he teased. “Why, did something interesting happen in the last five hours?”

“No.” I sulked, twining some noodles on my fork. “I just …”

Miss you. God, I was pathetic. We’d just seen each other four days ago when he flew out to see me.

“Yeah, I know, baby,” he said softly. “I miss you too.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” I lied.

He chuckled, glossing right over my attempt at deception. “So you don’t miss me?”

“Of course I miss you.” I tried my best to infuse some cheer into my tone. “You sound like you’re driving.”

“Yep, on my way home.”

My heart stuttered when I thought of him gliding down Sixth Street. I looked out the window at the dusky sky. The horizon glowed orange and pink, the last rays of sun casting an opal shimmer off the water.

“It’s already dark there,” I said quietly. “But the sun is still hanging on out here. You should see it.” My voice trembled with emotion. “It’s beautiful.”

“Baby, if you’re so miserable, why don’t you just come home?”

A tear slid down my cheek. “I will. Just not yet. With Metro forging ahead with their bogus ass lawsuit, I’ve got to be available for depositions.”

“You can’t do that from Austin?”

I could. But there were logistical details to take into consideration. Closing the office here. My lease on the bungalow. Finding a new counselor. That was a big one. I’d finally taken steps to deal with the grief and the guilt over the accident. Over Paige.

And then there was the fact that I had no place to live in Austin.

“It’s not that easy to pick up and leave at the drop of a hat,” I said glumly.

“I guess you’re right.”

Silence stretched, the burden of our distance weighing me down. I shifted my gaze to my Blue Amaryllis tucked in a corner by the window, her petals reaching toward the sun. Always reaching. With or without Chase, I would be fine. I was fine. I just missed him. So much it hurt.

My appetite gone, I dumped the food in the sink. “How was your day?” I forced a smile, even though he couldn’t see it. “Any new plans to take over the world?”

“Not today. Just looking forward to stretching out with a plate of barbecue.”

I groaned as the limp noodles slid into the garbage disposal. “Franklin’s?”

He laughed. “What else?”

“So. Not. Fair.” I sighed again. “On that note, I’m going to take a shower and leave you to your food orgy. I’ll call you in a little while.” I paused for a moment, listening to his soft breath in my ear. “I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

We could do this for ten minutes, go back and forth. But tonight, I couldn’t handle it. I hit end on the call, then plugged the phone into the charger.

The pipes in the old house rattled as I set the water for my shower. Steam rose, tickling my nose with the scent of Chase’s body wash as I poured a liberal amount onto my sponge. It was a manly scent, not suitable at all for me. But I used it anyway. Along with his shampoo.

Yeah, I’d officially taken the turn into crazy town.

Panic rose in my throat when the front door slammed. I know I set the alarm. Leaving the water to run, I reached for a towel, securing it around my body.

Cupboards opened and closed. Then drawers. Someone was definitely here. Fuck. I was being robbed. Frantically I looked around for my phone. No! It was in the dining room.

Tiptoeing into the bedroom, I grabbed the guitar Chase kept beside the bed and then slipped into the hallway, leaving puddles of water in my wake.

I swallowed hard as a huge shadow sprawled over the hardwood.

Holding the guitar over my head with both hands, I shot into the living room. “Stop right there!”

Chase turned to me, amusement coating his features. “You hungry, baby? I brought barbecue.”

His grin evaporated when the guitar crashed to the floor and I reached for the wall to steady myself. “What the hell?” Spots danced in front of my eyes as I clutched my chest. I couldn’t take a full breath to save my life.

Chase was in front of me in a flash, holding my soapy body against his chest. “Easy, baby.” He captured my chin, tilting my face to his. “It’s just me.” He brushed a kiss to my lips. “Just me.”

“I thought … you said …” I pressed my palm to his chest. He was here. Really here. “You said you were going home.”

“I am home, baby.” He rested his forehead against mine. “Anywhere you are. That’s home.”

Chase made a second pass at my towel when I reached for another rib. I slapped his hand.

“Eating here,” I growled, fingers dripping with barbecue sauce.

He gripped my chair, dragging it next to his. Soft lips brushed my ear. “I’d like to eat too.” He reached under the terrycloth. “God, I love the way you smell.” He inhaled sharply, then tipped back, confusion lining his brow. “Usually. Tonight you smell like—” he took another deep breath. “—me.”

Color rose in my cheeks. “I ran out of body wash, so I used yours.”

From the grin on his mug, he saw right through me.

“Sure you did. You just like smelling like me.” Heat flooded my stomach as his fingers danced along my inner thigh. Clenching my legs, I trapped his hand.

“Knew it.” He nipped my shoulder and then moved north.

Abandoning the rib, I dropped my head back to give him greater access. “I’m full of barbecue sauce.”

I groaned as his teeth scored the sensitive flesh on my neck. And then he licked a bit of sauce from the corner of my mouth. “Umm … mesquite.”

Scooping me off the chair, he strolled toward the bedroom. As he undressed, I scooted to the head of the bed. He looked at me quizzically as he eased to my side. “What is it, baby?”

Time, that’s what. There was never enough. “When do you go back to Austin?”

Rolling on his back, he tucked his arm behind his head. “Depends.”

I curled into his side. “On what?”

“On you.” He stroked my thigh. “How long is it going to take you to wrap things up around here?”

“I don’t know.” I peered up at him. “A couple of months, maybe.”

“A couple of months it is then.”

I sat up. “Chase, you can’t—”

“I can—” Entwining our fingers, he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. “And I did. There are three suitcases in the trunk of the rental car.”

“What about the studio?” Averting his gaze, he blew out a breath. The longer he stayed silent, the more my stomach knotted. “Chase, what is it?”

“Metro served me with an injunction.” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “I want to rip Mac’s fucking head off and skull fuck the son of a bitch.”

I blanched at the visual. “What are you going to do?”

He caressed his thumb over mine. “The question is: what are we going to do?”

“We?”

“We’re partners, baby.” He sighed. “Or we will be as soon as you sign the paperwork with Twin Souls.” Clouds gathered in his eyes. “Tori and I were talking. Maybe it’s not the best time to fold Ayers PR into the mix.”

“Why?”

“Because talent is you’re only business. If Mac’s people seize your accounts …”

“He can do that?” My thoughts hopscotched straight over Ayers PR to Twin Souls. “What about Tori?”

Cupping my cheek, he smoothed the tension lines around my mouth. “Tori’s got millions in the reserve account. There’s nothing legally in place to keep her from moving that money, but she needs your signature to do it.”

I blinked. “I don’t … I haven’t even signed the partnership agreement yet.”

We’d been trying to hammer out the details for two weeks, Tori’s attorney and mine. She drove a hard bargain, that girl. I abandoned the lawyer four days ago and just called her. When she wouldn’t relent, I signed the letter of intent granting me a fifty percent stake in Twin Souls.

Chase smiled thoughtfully and said, “Because the reserve account is in your name as well.” He brushed his thumb over my lips to silence me when I went to speak. “It’s always been like that, baby. I saw the account months ago when Tori and I set up the joint venture for the studio.”

I sank back. “Oh …”

“Anyway,” Chase continued, “I’ve got some land; it’s worth about twice what’s in the reserve account. I’m going to sell it to y’all for half of what it’s worth. You’ll form an LLC to protect it, just you and Tori. Even if the market takes a shit, you’ll be covered with that kind of equity.”

I shook my head. “I can’t … you can’t do that.” Emotion clogged my throat. “I won’t let you.”

He laughed. “I love you, baby, but you don’t ‘let me’ do anything.” Pulling me to him, he pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’m doing it because I want to. For you. Tori’s protected. The Damaged music catalog is her sole property, except for the small annuity she set up for Miles.”

“But I have money coming in,” I insisted. “The Big Three. I’ve got an exclusive on the PR.” Chase inhaled slowly, and I sat up. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Mac enjoined them in the action, all of them. Breach of contract. Fiduciary interest. Promissory Estoppel. All of it.”

My eyes widened. “What about The Phoenix Group?”

“The Phoenix Group is worth about four hundred million dollars, baby. And growing. Sure, I’ve got a huge chunk of change invested in the studio, but Metro can’t do shit to keep me from developing land.” He shrugged. “Mac can’t touch me.”

I sank against him. I don’t know which was harder to absorb, my boyfriend’s astronomical wealth or my possible demise.

“Listen.” He rolled over, trapping me underneath him. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’ll have plenty of money to weather this.”

I tried to shake my head, but he held my chin. “Not my money … yours. Trust me, baby.” His brow creased. “You do trust me, don’t you? There are fail-safes. If anything ever happened …” He swallowed hard. “With me. The Phoenix Group and all the holdings are protected.”

Grimacing, I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t think about anything happening to Chase. “Don’t ever say that to me.” Tears spilled from the corners of my eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to you. I couldn’t … that couldn’t happen. Not again.”

“I wasn’t talking about dying, baby.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, a sad smile lifting his lips. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” Shaking his head, he looked away. “So fucking amazing.”

And then it dawned on me. Chase was talking about his addiction. Even though I’d attended family sessions at the local NA chapter like he’d asked, my mind rarely went there. Chase was so strong. So capable. Of course, I didn’t see him at his worst. He made sure of it.

“So everything is going to be all right?” My voice was thin, reedy, to my own ears. I cleared my throat. “And you’re going to stay here until …”

He kissed me again. Soft, sweet, and chaste. “Until.”

I hated to ask him for anything else. I was in the negative category as it was. “Can you do me a favor?”

Distracted, he sprinkled kisses on my collarbone. “Anything.”

“If a loft becomes available at Bluebonnet Towers can you … I don’t know …” My cheeks heated. “Put me at the top of the list.”

“Why?” He murmured. “What’s wrong with your loft? Do you need more space?”

I pushed him backward to look into his eyes. “My loft was sub-letted. I don’t have a loft anymore. I told you that.”

Another laugh. I was getting tired of being kept out of the joke.

“Your loft is safe and sound,” he said, his lips curving into his signature victory smile. “And waiting for you.”

“How …?”

“Do we have to talk about this now?” Gritting my teeth, I nodded, even as he circled my nipple with his thumb, bringing it to a painful peak. “Okay, then,” he grumbled. “Legally, you can’t lease your loft without my, er, The Phoenix Group’s, approval.” He smiled innocently. “I didn’t approve.”

I wiggled out from under him. “What are you talking about? I signed paperwork. Paid a realtor.” My eyes widened. “That couple … I made an agreement.”

“That couple is one floor up. In a bigger loft.” He cocked a brow. “For the same lease amount. I even gave them an additional two-year option at the same rate to sweeten the pot.” He entwined our fingers, pulling our joined hands over my head. “Happy?”

Deliriously. Unrepentantly. Unabashedly.

There were more adjectives I could use. Three wasn’t enough. Three thousand didn’t come close. But Chase’s mouth was on mine, his tongue sliding between my lips. And when he pushed me into the mattress, I melted beneath the weight of his love. But I didn’t disappear. Chase wasn’t the sun, and I didn’t live in his reflection, fearful that one day the music would stop. Because we made the music, he and I. One note at a time.