Devotion (6 page)

Embarrassed once more by being so vividly exposed, he began to flip pages to a blank section, but Chloe stopped him short by settling her hands against his. “Wait a minute. Please?” Her quiet, earnest entreaty left Kellen in a place where all he could do was watch after her, and wait. She looked down and lightly moistened her lips. With careful deliberation, she paged back to the words he had written. The room suddenly went way too hot. Kellen felt tiny beads of sweat break out against his hairline and his chest…

“You see so much in me…” Her awed, sweet voice tickled against his inner ear.

Kellen’s throat went parched. Chloe’s hands slid against his, which remained in a tight clutch of the legal pad.

“I’ve never had anyone look at me”—she squirmed just a bit—“and the work I do, like you have. It’s…compelling.”

“Chloe…”

He spoke her name like a caution. Desperation curled through him, a desperation founded on the fact that he was happily married, a devout Christian, yet utterly magnetized toward this woman. And he had never, ever been looking to feel this way about anyone other than his wife.

Undeterred, Chloe continued, her voice a soft caress of sound. “No. Let me say this to you, Kellen.” She paused for a beat. “I know you’re married. I want no part in interfering. It’s just that I love the way you’ve tuned in to me as a person and a performer. I respect you so much, and I want you to know I also respect your judgment on the song and what you want to do for me. Having you on my side is exciting and thrilling, and I want to do you proud. I want to vindicate the things you’re seeing. If you lead, I’ll follow. I have complete confidence and faith in everything I know you’re going to be able to do for me.”

In emphasis, she tilted the pad her way and openly reviewed each comment. She took them in, and the softness of her eyes, the way she lightly pressed her lower lip between her teeth made his stomach go tense and his breathing go unsteady.

“You guys through with your debrief?” Jason popped the question as he pushed through the studio door, arriving into their midst like a piercing blast of feedback.

Chloe and Kellen started, and Kellen smoothed over his uncharacteristic reaction by standing quick and going to his briefcase. From inside the front pocket, he extracted the CD of the song
Swing Time
.

“We’re not crazy about it,” Kellen said promptly, avoiding Chloe’s pink-touched face. Kellen focused, forcing her out of his mind as he keyed in on Jason and the job he needed to do as her agent. “Jay, we’re talking about image here, and both Chloe and I believe this song isn’t a good fit for what we’re trying to build.”

Before Jason’s wide eyes and furrowed brow could end in an argument, Kellen lifted the CD. “I’d like you to give this a listen. It’s a little raw, and lacks the kind of polish you’re going to give it in the studio, but the song is sensational. I think we can pull together an incredible orchestration and make this part of the demo we shop around.”

Still a bit ruffled, Jason frowned but did as Kellen asked.

The song worked, just as Kellen hoped. By the end of the first chorus, all three of them were on board and enthused about what would come to be in the next few hours.

When they concluded, Jason left, needing to join a session taking place elsewhere in the building. Kellen packed away the CD of Chloe’s work, a CD he fully intended to overnight to Summit Pointe Records first thing in the morning. Alone with Chloe, Kellen didn’t want to consider the length of time that would pass before he saw her again, so…an idea morphed into an undeniable course of action.

Kellen, walk in the spirit.

He braced against that piece of firm, but loving counsel. After all, the idea of sharing just an hour or two with Chloe in a more personal—but still very public—setting…

Walk in the spirit and you will not long to gratify the desires of the flesh.

Once again, Kellen pushed away the words. This wasn’t about the flesh. All he wanted to do was ask her out to lunch. Nothing more. It’s not as if he was entering into anything other than an extension of…

If you walk in darkness, you lie to yourself and live not in the truth. Submit to Me, Kellen, and the devil will flee.

Kellen steeled himself against the internal fight that was taking place at the crux of his soul. He packed up, even going so far as to keep his back to her when he very casually asked, “Would you interested in lunch sometime next week? It’d probably be a good idea for us to review the—”

“I’d love it.”

She hadn’t even let him finish the thought. Very slowly, Kellen turned his head. She stood across the room at a completely appropriate distance from him, but the connection between them ran hot, eager…and infinitely appealing. When he came upon her upturned lips, her bottomless, seeking eyes, his heart raced with an expectation that promptly drowned out God’s voice and the call of his conscience.

6

A half-hour later, he was on the road, headed home. Removed from the influence of Chloe’s presence, a sick sense of remorse washed through him. A thorough drenching of shame followed close behind.

What was he thinking, dallying with a woman—and the sanctity of his marriage—this way?

Kellen pounded a fist against the steering wheel of his car, wincing at the pain, and his own stupidity. Every sensory preceptor in his body went to work against him, calling to mind the way Chloe had looked at him, the way she had playfully but thoroughly challenged him, about the static electricity snapping between them…then there was the lunch date.

Worlds away from the present moment, Kellen unlocked the front door of his home and stepped into the foyer, eager to spend some time in peace and quiet with Juliet and get a handle on the tumult of his emotions. Restful time in the company of his wife would set his world on its proper axis once more and restore his peace of mind—and heart. Then, he’d cancel lunch with Chloe. Any other option left him sick inside.

I’m a better man than this. I’m a better husband than this. What’s happening to me?

He’d pray tonight. In-depth. He had tried to do so at odd times during the past several weeks, but never at long enough intervals, and without fail, as soon as he’d drift into God’s embrace, the world would encroach, as if the devil himself were bent on interfering. Well, not this time. He’d pull his Bible from the headboard of their bed and fall into the Word—with Juliet as a prayer partner. He wanted this turmoil to cease.

When Kellen looked up, he nearly dropped the car keys, his phone, and the day’s stack of mail, right there on the shimmering gray marble floor of the entryway.

Before him stood Juliet, resplendent in a knee-length dress of pale pink silk that swirled around her legs. The color added warm emphasis to the skin of her neck, the discreet V-shaped neckline drew his focus to the cross she always wore—her signature piece. Humble though it was, it belonged to them both. It was his wedding present to her, the reminder of which took the slow, sure tip of a pin strike to his heart. Kellen closed his eyes for an instant but fought back the urge he had to coil in on himself.

Juliet’s hair was pulled back slightly, into loose curls that trailed down her back. She looked gorgeous, and the impact of her sparkling eyes left him breathless.

Guilty, too.

In an attempt at spiritual and emotional reconciliation, Kellen realized nothing—and no one—not even Chloe—captured him like his wife. He was being a fool. Wreaking havoc, just like God had shown, and warned. He needed to straighten up promptly.

Juliet looked down, regarding her ensemble, right to the shoes, and she didn’t look confident; she seemed puzzled. “You’re staring. Is this OK for tonight?”

OK? She was a vision. Was she becoming that unused to his pleasured approval? Kellen licked his parched lips, falling in love with her all over again. No one he had ever met possessed such sweetness and unfettered light. That’s what had drawn him to her in the first place.

“You’re absolutely breathtaking. Where are you headed? I was really looking forward to being with—”

She gaped at him. “Where am I headed? Kellen, are you serious?” The mood between them took a sudden and heavy nosedive. “You’re barely home in time to change and get out the door.”

Her leading, expectant look didn’t help any. He was as blank as an empty canvas. So, he shrugged, openly confused while he awaited the brush strokes of her explanation.

Juliet’s shoulders sagged. Her eyes went cloudy with sadness and disappointment. Her lips trembled just slightly when she turned away from him, toward the hall table, where she began to assemble and switch a few items from her every day purse to an evening bag. “It’s the benefit opening of the Rushton Free Clinic.”

He remembered now, and he felt miserable for forgetting. Juliet’s defeat and sorrow hit him far worse than her anger ever could have.

“As the largest contributors to its creation, we’re expected at the gala.”

The very last thing in the world he wanted to do was hobnob at a charity function, but they were obligated, and he couldn’t believe he had neglected to recall the culmination of a project that had driven Juliet for months now, and meant so much to her.

“Can you give me ten minutes to climb into my tux?” He infused the request with as much enthusiasm as he could, but he was worn out—at every level. The day had been typically long, and residual shockwaves from Chloe’s presence still worked through his system. He was, at present, a tapped out mess, sinking deeper and deeper into an extremely dangerous quagmire.

Plus, Juliet saw right through him. She nodded, giving him a quick, shallow smile before returning her focus to assembling her evening bag.

Kellen dashed up the stairs, intending to make amends by double-timing his way into black-tie clothing.

****

Juliet applied a glossing of lipstick, fighting the sting of tears. Kellen’s cell phone began to vibrate and slide across the top of the hall table where he had dropped it next to his car keys. He had forgotten about tonight, and that took a bite straight out of her heart. She had been excited about the gala all week, looking forward to the success of seeing a project through to completion—a project that would benefit hundreds of thousands of displaced families in need of medical care.

But, typical to a growing pattern, they hadn’t discussed the benefit recently—or anything else of import. She was beginning to feel like she just didn’t matter anymore. Her efforts to create something of value, something of her own that had meaning and spirit felt insignificant now.

She ignored the call alert, and Kellen’s phone went quiet and dark. She sighed, looking at her reflection. She felt out of sorts and out of her element these days. Burdened. The zesty expectation that had accompanied her throughout the day evaporated into a wisp of fast-vanishing fog.

Kellen’s phone vibrated once more. Concerned that someone might need to get in touch with him on an urgent basis, she picked up his phone and turned toward the stairwell, intending to deliver it to him. She puzzled at the text that scrolled across the top of the lit-up home screen.

The demo session 2day was like a dream! Tks 4 being there. Looking forward to lunch nxt week. C

Previous to that text was ID information on the missed call that had come in just moments ago. The person’s name, whom Kellen had obviously included in his contact list, was Chloe Havermill.

C.

Juliet’s stomach lurched violently then wobbled against a rush of strong, hot nausea. She rested a hand against her abdomen, willing herself to settle and go still. Nausea was hitting her more and more frequently of late. Further proof of how unsettled and sad she had become.

Kellen had been talking about this Chloe woman a lot lately. He was enthused by her level of talent and had eagerly signed her on as a client. So the demo session is what had occupied his time this afternoon. And lunch was coming up?

Juliet swallowed back a lump of emotion, wishing her heart would stop racing, wishing her imagination wouldn’t run away with her just because she was trapped by a feeling of inadequacy. Sure, they needed to get to work on their relationship again, but she refused to be a clingy alarmist and go off the deep end when her marriage to Kellen had always been so strong and full of mutual caring. Kellen’s world revolved around many such women. Never had she been given a cause to doubt him. Why would working with Chloe Havermill be any different?

Juliet closed her eyes, going dark against the answer that instantly came to her mind: because
Kellen’s
different. Because
you’re
different.

It was like she had told Pastor Gene this afternoon, Kellen’s mood, his focus, had changed lately. Increasingly intense and withdrawn, he seemed overwhelmed, and that was completely out of character.

She climbed the stairs and opened the door to their bedroom. Kellen sat on a padded bench at the end of their bed, tying the laces of his dress shoes. Juliet stood in the entryway for the briefest of moments, taking him in. She had never seen such a handsome man. Thick waves of dark brown hair framed an olive-skinned face with strong lines and a squared jaw, deep-set, compelling eyes of darkest brown capped by a smile that had always sent her heart into a free-fall of dizzy pleasure…

Moving through the room, she joined her husband and handed off the phone. She drew in a deep breath, trying hard not to fall into suspicions and doubts. “Your phone is kind of going crazy. I thought someone might be trying to get a hold of you about something important.”

“Thanks.”

She watched him review the call, and the text. He didn’t react; he slipped the phone into the breast pocket of his tux jacket and stood, walking to the dresser where he hunted, presumably, for a pair of cufflinks.

“I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

He kept his back to her. The lack of reaction, the too-smooth deflection, only served to tear additional holes in the fabric of her confidence and the resolution she had made to stay calm. Still, reaction or not, Juliet knew Kellen’s nuances well enough to recognize the intensity he carried, the tightness that shadowed his movements.