Tie Me

Chapter Ten

Dawn shoved the pillow off her head and blinked in the bright sunshine streaming through the open blinds of her bedroom. It had to be close to noon. Why was she still so exhausted? She smiled as memories of the night she’d shared with Kellen filtered through her thoughts. She couldn’t wait to add to her pleasant experiences today. She was a bit disappointed to find his side of the bed empty, but she vaguely recalled him murmuring her name to awaken her and her foolishly demanding coffee. Who needed coffee with that man as her wake-up call? She’d just been a bit groggy and obviously out of her mind. She was wide awake now. Still naked, she slipped out of bed and padded down the hall to the stairs.

“Kellen,” she called down into the foyer below. “I changed my mind. I don’t need coffee. I just need you.”

When he didn’t answer, she continued down the stairs. “Kellen, come out, come out, wherever you are.”

She entered the kitchen and noticed a full carafe of coffee sitting untouched in the coffee maker. The power was obviously back on. It had been sweet of him to make coffee for her, but why hadn’t he rejoined her in bed once he’d finished making it?

“Kellen, are you down here?” she called, peeking over the breakfast bar into the family room, where the piano sat as silent as a stone. Bits of rope littered the piano’s lid and the floor. Dawn smiled. She would always remember the feel of it pressing into her skin and opening her eyes to truths she hadn’t recognized about herself. It was a shame that the rope had been cut and was now unusable. She wondered if there was any spare rope in the garage beneath the house. If not, she was all about making a trip to the nearest hardware store for supplies.

She wasn’t sure where Kellen had wandered off to. Maybe he was in the bathroom, or maybe he’d taken a walk on the beach. She always found the most interesting goodies washed up on the shore after a storm. She completely understood the draw of the water. She turned back to the kitchen. When she opened a cabinet, she noticed the broken mug in the sink. She picked up a large shard of ceramic and caught sight of the big yellow house next door. Kellen’s house, she realized with a smile. She looked again at the broken mug, at the full coffee carafe. At Kellen’s house. Her smile faded. Sara’s house, she corrected herself.

Shit. He’d left, hadn’t he? Saw that gorgeous, empty house across the way, started thinking about her again—Sara—and ran away.

Even after all they’d shared the night before, he still hadn’t given up that other woman. What a jerk! If all he’d wanted from her was sex, he could have just been straight with her. He didn’t have to pretend to be so wonderful. She was a big girl. And even though her heart was aching so badly she could scarcely breathe and her lower lip was trembling uncontrollably, Dawn was not going to cry over this. She refused to let a single tear fall. She kicked a lower cabinet as hard as she could and winced when her toe exploded with pain.

“Damn him,” she muttered. “He could have at least had the decency to tell me to my face that he wasn’t interested.”

Determined to have a great day despite the dark cloud that was suddenly obscuring her sunshine from the inside out, Dawn poured herself a cup of coffee and went to sulk—contemplate life—at her piano. She righted the piano bench, which had been overturned during all those wonderfully sensual activities she refused to dwell upon, and plopped down. She dribbled coffee down her bare front when she noticed Kellen’s handwritten note.

She snatched it from the music stand and read it three times before crumpling it into a ball and tossing it on the floor.

“Entertaining evening,” she muttered under her breath. “Was that what it was to you? Because it was magical to me, you ass!” She didn’t know why she was yelling at her piano, but it felt right. “You’re sorry it didn’t work out between us. How could it work out? You didn’t even give it a chance. I hope you choke on your guitar.” She wasn’t sure why he’d have his guitar in his mouth, but she wasn’t thinking clearly enough to come up with better ill wishes.

She turned sideways on the bench and pulled her legs up against her body, hugging both shins and burying her face against her bent knees. She was not going to cry over him. Not going to cry. Those hot, wet droplets coming from her eyes and running down her thighs were not tears. Nope. Not crying for a guy who’d love another woman until the day he died. Not crying over a man who had taken a chance with her but decided he’d rather return to a dead girl. She sniffed. She really wished she could hate him for that, but it just broke her heart.

When she decided she’d wallowed in misery long enough, she turned to her piano and practiced her new song. Kellen’s song. She would always think of it as Kellen’s song, even if she did name it “Dawn.” She began to feel better almost at once. The joyful melody lifted her spirits until her tears were forgotten and she was smiling to herself. She had to call her agent. He had to hear this song.

She dialed his number and had his secretary patch her through. As soon as she had him on the line, she interrupted his usual, “Any luck?” As if luck had anything to do with composing.

“Listen,” she said and put him on speaker phone so he could hear her. She played the piece from beginning to end. When the last note rang out, she stared at the phone, her heart hammering with excitement. The song was wonderful. Perfect. She knew it was. But she had to hear it from someone who would give it to her straight. “Well?”

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?”

“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.