There was a long pause. “I… I’m speechless,” he said.

What? Speechless? What did that mean? “Thanks for sharing. But is the song any good?”

“It’s phenomenal. I almost hate to hand it over. It’s too good to be closing credit music for some movie.”

“But it will be heard, Wes. Well, by those who stay for the credits, at least. I’m just glad I finally wrote something worth listening to.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, Dawn. Everything you write is inspired.”

She rolled her eyes. He thought that because he only ever heard her finished pieces. He’d never heard her bang out angry renditions of “Chopsticks” because it sounded better than the crap she was coming up with.

“So do you think you could get me an extra few days on my deadline? It’s finished, but I haven’t exactly written it down yet.”

“So write it down now.”

“I have something important that I need to do today,” she said and before her impetuous mouth had even completed the sentence, she knew it was true.

“More important than keeping a movie studio happy?”

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“Yeah. Much more important than that. Have you ever heard of the band Sole Regret?”

“The metal band out of Austin nominated for best new artist Grammy last year?”

She knew Wes would have heard of them. “That’s them.”

“I don’t know them, but I do have business connections with their manager. Why?”

Wes knew everyone in the music business either directly or by some outside contact. He loved to drop names. “I need to be on the VIP list for their show in Beaumont, Texas tonight. Can you make it happen?”

“Can you fax me a rough draft of your masterpiece in the next hour so I can get this producer off my back?”

She sighed loudly. “Yes, I’ll fax you a rough draft.”

“I’ll make your groupie wishes a reality then.”

“I’m not a groupie,” she said testily.

“Oh. Are you writing music for them now?”

“No, I’m not writing their music. They’re kind of out of my genre, don’t you think?”

“Groupie,” he teased in a high-pitched voice.

“Watch it, Wes. I know where you live.”

“As soon as I have that rough draft in my hand, I’ll get you on the list.”

She grinned because she knew he’d deliver for her. “Slave driver,” she muttered.

“Virtuoso,” he countered.

“You really suck at insults, Bloodsucking Agent.”

“And you really suck at lying, Groupie.”

“Expect a fax in an hour,” she said, already scribbling down notes as fast as her hand could move.

“I’ll pull all the right strings in the meantime. Great work, doll. I think there’s an Academy Award in your future.”

Dawn paused to glare at the crumpled note on the floor. “Yeah, you aren’t the first to make that prediction today. I’m just glad the song is finally done.”

“And I’m glad you’re a groupie.” He laughed, and she could picture his overly white teeth gleaming in his overly tanned face. “We’ll talk soon.”

He hung up before she could reach into the phone and choke him. Groupie? How could she be a groupie if she’d never even heard Sole Regret’s music? She just needed closure or an opening—one or the other and preferably the latter. She wasn’t sure if Kellen would even talk to her, but she had to try. She had to find out why he’d left and if he had any interest in her beyond one amazing night. But first she had to get their song on paper and then she should probably consider putting on some clothes. While she was pretty sure Kellen would understand her need to be naked today, the public probably wouldn’t be so understanding.

Chapter Eleven

“Are you okay?” Sara said as she trotted down the steps, stopping on the bottom one so that it was impossible not to notice her belly. She patted Kellen’s shoulder. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Not Sara, he told himself. Lindsey. The girl Owen had been talking about on the phone before they’d been disconnected. She’s not Sara. Yeah, tell that to all the hairs on the back of his neck, which were standing on end.

He took a deep breath and clenched his shaking hands into fists.

“Where’s Owen?” Kellen asked, staring at her pregnant abdomen and doing mental math. Could it be… Was this what Owen had been trying to tell him about? No. Not possible.

“I think he’s talking to her again,” Lindsey-not-Sara said. He glanced up in time to catch her rolling her pretty blue eyes. “It was good seeing you.” She kissed his cheek and stepped off the final step. “If anyone is looking for me, I’m going to buy some food. I swear, how do you guys live like this?”

Still dumbfounded, he watched her walk over to Jordan, who was taking one of his hundreds of daily breaks, and with a few bats of her eyelashes and rubs of her belly, Jordan was on his feet and escorting her to the rental car he was responsible for returning. Completely transfixed, Kellen watched her get into the car. Lindsey really was a beauty. She definitely rivaled Sara, but was no comparison to Dawn.

Shit. He couldn’t let himself think about Dawn right now.

Kellen climbed the bus steps and spotted Owen sitting at the dining table and staring intently at his iPad. He looked up when Kellen slid into the booth across from him. He smiled.

“So you’re back. Have you given up on blue balls permanently or was it a temporary thing?”

“Had to be temporary.”

“Had to be?”

Kellen nodded curtly. He didn’t want Dawn to have to deal with his baggage. He had to forget her so she would forget him. “So Lindsey…”

“She’s around her somewhere.” Owen flicked his wrist at the expansive bus cabin.

“Yeah, I saw her. Is she…” Kellen’s eyebrows lifted.

“Pregnant?” Owen nodded and went slightly pale. “Yeah. She thinks it’s mine.”

“Yours? But you wore a condom when you did her; how could it be yours?”

“Well, it’s someone’s from that night, assuming she isn’t lying about not screwing some other dude after she finished with her Sole Regret band and crew orgy. When I left you alone to untie her, you didn’t do anything with her, did you?”

“No.” He hadn’t been inside a woman for five years. Until Dawn.




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