Page 84 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

I took the pen from her hand and pulled her onto my lap. “Come here, and I’ll show you what all I can do.”

Keltie melted against me, her body fitting perfectly against mine. Her lips found my jaw, then my mouth in a deep kiss.

“How long will they be at the park?” I murmured against her neck.

“Long enough,” she replied with a smile.

We made love on the sofa, sunlight spilling across our tangled limbs, her soft cries muffled against my shoulder. Afterward, we held each other, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare skin.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said after a while. “I want to record Luna’s song at Ben’s studio.”

“That would be amazing,” she replied.

“I might work on other tracks too,” I continued. “I was thinking of asking Bridger to come along. The guy’s got serious talent, though he’d never admit it.”

Keltie grew quiet, her fingers stilling on my chest.

“What is it?” I asked, tilting her chin so I could see her expression.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, then bit her lip. “It’s, um, been a long time since I’ve been in a studio.”

Understanding dawned. “Would you want to come with me? See the setup?”

Her eyes lit up. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Are you kidding? I’d love it.” I pulled her closer and nuzzled her neck.

“Could Luna and Dad come too?” she asked. “They could drive separately in case Luna gets tired.”

“Absolutely,” I replied, kissing her softly. “Ben said to give Liv a heads up when I planned to come by. I’ll call her now.”

“This place is amazing.”Keltie’s eyes were wide as she took in the mixing board.

Luna clutched my hand, her purple bandana a bright spot of color against the studio’s muted tones. Her gaze darted nervously when Liv walked into the studio, holding the hand of her and Ben’s five-year-old daughter, Caden.

“Everything all right, Unicorn Girl?” I asked, crouching to her level.

She shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Do you want to play with Caden?” I asked quietly.

Luna shook her head.

I’d worried this might happen—that she’d feel self-conscious about her hair loss, despite the brightly colored bandana. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

She rolled her eyes in a perfect imitation of her mother. “Of courseI want to play, but I don’t want to miss hearing my song.”

I laughed, relieved. “Tell you what—once I’m warmed up and your mom’s ready, you and I will lay down the first tracks together. Okay? You can sit right next to me.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

“Really,” I confirmed.

“If I knew the words, I’d sing along, but I haven’t heard them yet.” That statement sounded more like herabuelothan her mother.

“It’s our story, Luna. You knowallthe words.”

“So it’s okay if I sing?”

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