Dawn craned her neck to peer out the side window of the tour bus. As they passed familiar sights of New Orleans, she was struck with nostalgia. If her career path had gone the way she’d originally intended, she would have become a jazz pianist instead of a classical one. For that reason alone, New Orleans was one of her favorite cities. Right after she’d graduated and her ex had gone to China to find himself—without her, thank God—she’d spent a year in NOLA trying to make it as a jazz performer. A fun year, but ultimately, just as Daddy had predicted, a failure.

When the bus pulled to a halt behind the venue where the band would play that night, Kellen couldn’t get off fast enough. Maybe it was because she’d suggested they could get intimate, but more than likely it was because Lindsey was near. He took Dawn by the wrist and they were halfway to the backstage entrance when she realized she’d left her bag behind.

“Forgot my purse,” she said, drawing to a halt so abruptly that Kellen stumbled.

“I thought you wanted to take my mind off my worries,” he said.

“I do. But if I don’t get my purse, I’ll be the one with my mind riddled with worries.” She already had that familiar panicky feeling she got whenever her purse wasn’t within reach. She’d never understand the trend of carrying nothing but a cellphone.

“I’ll grab it for you,” he said, brushing a kiss against her cheek before dashing toward the bus.

He nearly tripped over his feet when Lindsey emerged from the stairwell. She smiled brightly at him, and he wrapped a hand around his silver wristwatch before diverting his gaze to the ground. Dawn knew that Lindsey reminded him of Sara, but Dawn wouldn’t have ever guessed that Kellen could be so blatantly rude to anyone. Was there some deeper reason he couldn’t stand the woman? She vowed to get him talking about what was really bothering him. She already knew him well enough to realize that he kept his emotions tightly bottled and that he fixated on certain issues, especially if they pertained to his Sara. Dawn sighed, wondering if he’d ever let himself be free of his first love.

Owen hopped off the bus after Lindsey, and Kellen at least smiled at his supposed best friend before hurrying up the now-empty bus steps. The way Kellen had talked of Owen with admiration and obvious affection had made Dawn believe the two were close, but they sure didn’t act close. In fact, Kellen had barely spoken to Owen all morning.

Owen watched Kellen disappear inside the bus, and Dawn recognized the hurt in his expression even from a distance. So she wasn’t the only one confused by Kellen’s behavior.

Dawn approached the sweet-faced bassist. “Do you think Kelly is acting a little off?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, sparing her a glance laced with surprising dislike. “Ever since you showed up.”

He turned without another word and hurried toward the building with Lindsey waddling after him.

Was it possible that Owen was jealous of Dawn? She wasn’t sure she’d ever figure out the dynamics of this little group of men. Especially not the one between Kellen and Owen.

Kellen returned with her purse and nodded at her thank-you, but his gaze was on Owen’s retreating back. He didn’t turn his attention to her until Owen had entered the back of the arena and disappeared from sight.

“I thought you and Owen were best friends,” Dawn said, as always, unable to keep her curiosity in check or her mouth shut.

“We are.”

She shrugged. “You sure don’t act like it. I don’t think you’ve said more than two words to each other all day.”

“Well, you’re here,” Kellen said, taking her hand and coaxing her to follow him toward the door Owen had just entered.

“Can you only talk to one person at a time?”

He grinned, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a blush reddened the bronzed skin across his high cheekbones. “Uh, yeah, pretty much,” he murmured.

“I wouldn’t want to come between you and Owen,” she said, though being the center of this man’s attention was a rather heady experience. Everything about the man had her out of her head. Especially all that exposed taut skin on his arms, back, chest and abdomen and the delicious tattoos that decorated it all.

“He’s got bigger problems to worry about at the moment,” Kellen said.

Lindsey, she presumed. “Has Lindsey been following the tour for long?” She’d had tons of questions about the young woman since they’d boarded the bus in Beaumont, but they’d been in tight quarters so there’d been no way to ask without being rude.

“Since Houston. But I didn’t ride with the guys that night. I went to Galveston instead and caught up with them in Beaumont for last night’s show.” He opened the door for her, but before she could enter, he drew her aside instead.

“That was a great show,” she said. “I really enjoyed myself, and you have amazing fans.”

“When I first saw Lindsey come down the bus steps in Beaumont, I literally thought she was Sara.”

Dawn blinked at him. “Why would you think that? Didn’t she pass away years ago?” Yet imagining he’d actually seen Sara would explain why he’d called Lindsey by the wrong name earlier.

“She did, so imagine my surprise when she turns up on the tour bus looking alive and healthy and pregnant.”

“So that’s what’s been bothering you this entire trip. Not me. Not Owen or some natural on-the-road moodiness, but because Lindsey reminds you of Sara.”

“Right before Sara passed away, she told me she’d haunt me if I didn’t find someone to love. I must admit I’m feeling thoroughly haunted at the moment.”

Dawn grinned at him. “That’s an easy problem to solve. Just fall in love with me and she’ll leave you in peace.”

When he gawked at her, she hoped he didn’t take her jest seriously. She held in a relieved sigh when he replaced his open-mouthed stare with an easy smile, looped an arm around her back, and opened the door again. “Well, that shouldn’t be too challenging.”

He said that, but the second they entered the building, to find the ghost of Sara standing just outside the dressing room door, he stopped short. He wasn’t merely saying that Lindsey’s presence bothered him; it was quite obvious that he struggled every time he saw her. Dawn wasn’t sure if she should be relieved that his problem wasn’t with her or perturbed that Sara still had such a hold on him. She’d wrongly assumed that when he’d made love to her, the shackles linking him to Sara had shattered.

“I’m hungry,” Dawn said, trying to come up with an excuse to leave the premises, because this freaking-out-over-Lindsey version of Kellen wasn’t very fun to be around.

“I’m sure there are sandwiches and snacks in the dressing room.”

“Do you need to wait around here for sound check or a meet and greet or some other rock star shenanigans?”

“I won’t be needed for any shenanigans until later this evening,” he said with a soft laugh.

“Would you think me high maintenance if I insist on you taking me to one of my favorite restaurants for lunch?”

“I might. How five-star is the place?”

“Baby,” she said, speaking in a faux haughty tone, “McDonald’s is five-star when you’re with me.”

He laughed. “I believe that.” He yelled at some member of the road crew, “We’ll be back before sound check!”

Soon they were on their way to New Orleans’s French Quarter by cab, and the farther they journeyed from the venue, the looser Kellen held his body, until they were practically snuggling in the back seat. Here was the guy she’d chased after. Here was the guy who made her body burn and her thoughts scatter. Here was the guy who didn’t mind when she traced the contours of his muscular chest with one very happy finger. She’d been worried that she’d invented him, making him into something he wasn’t.

“Maybe we should have asked Owen to join us,” Dawn said. “I’d like to get to know him better.”

“And he’d probably like a break from Lindsey as much as I needed one.”

“I feel bad for her. It’s like she has extrastrength cooties. It’s not her fault she looks like Sara.”

“She wouldn’t have been invited on the bus that night if she hadn’t looked like Sara. Owen always seems to think he could help me move on by trying to hook me up with women who resemble her.”

Kellen might be haunted by Sara’s ghost, but Dawn was left shivering in the darkness of her shadow. Dawn was suddenly grateful that she looked nothing like his first love. “Twisted.”

He grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to give her a squeeze. “I tried to warn you, but you didn’t run when you had the chance.”

“Still not running,” she whispered, lost in his heated gaze. The man wore his virility like a fine suit. She was suddenly thinking less of lunch and more about his devastatingly skilled mouth between her legs. She settled for a thought-stealing kiss instead, her fingers curling into the bare skin of his back.

When the cab drew to a halt in front of the restaurant she’d chosen, she had half a mind to tell the driver to circle the block until she’d had her fill of kissing Kellen, but they’d probably run out of gas before that happened.

When they stood on the sidewalk surrounded by the lunch crowd, she realized they wouldn’t be seated with Kellen being shirtless. She’d become so accustomed to him walking around half naked that it hadn’t occurred to her until she noticed all the female eyes glued to her companion’s hard-muscled chest and gorgeous tattoos.

“Um,” she said. “You need a shirt to get lunch.”

“Not if we grab something from that street vendor,” he said, his gaze focused on a food truck parked in a lot almost a block away.

“Good plan,” she said with a laugh. She didn’t want him covered up any more than he wanted to be.

“You seem familiar with the city,” he said. “You didn’t even have to ask for a restaurant recommendation.”

She flushed, diverting her gaze and taking his hand as they headed toward the food truck.

“Have you spent a lot of time here in the past?”

She didn’t like to talk about her failures and while she wouldn’t want to forget the fun-yet-financially-strained year, she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him about it. And then her gums started flapping on their own accord.

“I lived here for a year. Right after I graduated from Curtis.”

“You went to Curtis? Isn’t that some fancy music school like Julliard?”

“Curtis is way better than Julliard.” She grinned and leaned into his arm, squeezing his hand. “But I might be a tad partial toward my alma mater.”

“Does New Orleans have a good symphony?” His brow furrowed. “Did you play with one while you lived here?”

“A symphony is a piece of music. An orchestra would be what my kind of band is called.” She winked at him.

He laughed and slapped his forehead. “Okay, I obviously have no clue what I’m talking about. I definitely need to learn more about what you do. Our careers are far more different than they are similar. I’d probably know more about being a civil engineer than a classical pianist.”

“And I know more about being a pastry chef than being a rock star.”

“Considering how well you bake, you must be an expert rock musician.”

She flushed with pleasure. He really was an expert rock musician, as well as an expert at delighting her.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

They got in line behind the others waiting for their chance at a po’boy. She wasn’t familiar with this particular food truck, but judging by the length of the line, Kellen had made an excellent choice.

“So you joined the orchestra in New Orleans? Why for only a year? Not a good fit?”

“New Orleans isn’t really known for its orchestra,” she said, still on the fence about spilling a secret she held close to her heart. “They have one, of course, but I could have had a spot in the Philadelphia Orchestra or the New York Philharmonic.”

“Impressive,” he said, and then lifted his brows. “Right?”

She laughed. “Yes. That’s typically impressive.” In her circle, when she threw that bit of information around, people were definitely impressed. It was kind of refreshing that he didn’t look at her as some sort of prodigy.

“So not the orchestra.” His eyes popped wide. “You didn’t play jazz, did you?”

When she nodded slightly, he grimaced. It was the exact same reaction her father had had when she’d informed him she wasn’t accepting the position with Philadelphia. She was going to follow a different dream to New Orleans. It wasn’t as if the man had paid for her illustrious education. All students who managed to get into Curtis had full scholarships. He sure hadn’t held back his disappointment about her choices—all of her choices. Dad had warned her that she’d fail, that she couldn’t possibly make it as a jazz pianist, and his correct prediction had made her failure sting all the more.

“I played in a piano bar for a while, but I never had the right brand of funk. Patrons would request ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’ instead of ‘Take the A Train.’ ”

“I’d love to hear you play ‘Take the A Train,’ ” he said. “What’s ‘Take the A Train’?”

She shook her head. “Duke Ellington?” She could tell by his blank expression that he didn’t know the song or the legend.

“You’ll have to give me a private concert,” he said. “Show me how jazz piano is supposed to be played.”

“You’re bound to be disappointed.” She’d been disappointed in herself. She supposed classical music had been drummed into her at such an early age that she couldn’t break free of its hold on her soul. She hadn’t been good enough to be taken seriously as a jazz pianist. And as someone who was used to being the best, that revelation had crushed her.

“You are the least disappointing person I’ve ever met.” Kellen nudged her arm with his elbow.

“You haven’t known me long enough to make that claim.”

“I knew that the moment I heard you banging out your composition at the beach. It isn’t possible for the woman who’d created something that stirred me so completely to ever be a disappointment.”

She tried not to smile at how good he made her feel about herself. She’d become accustomed to living up to her own exalted expectations early in life and not caring what others thought—or so she told herself—but she kept her agent around because he encouraged her, and she definitely wanted to keep Kellen around, so maybe she needed outside approval more than she thought. Maybe her father’s continual disappointment—and his expression of his resentment at her choices—did bother her. She told herself she didn’t care that the only kind of child he’d ever wanted was one willing to take over his financial legacy, but she craved approval from those who cared about her. Even those she’d known for only a few days.

Kellen placed a hand in the center of her back and urged her forward. The line was moving, but she’d been so wrapped up in him and her own thoughts, she hadn’t noticed.

“Maybe tonight after your concert we can check out one of my old haunts,” she said. “If you’re not too tired, that is.” He’d been too tired the night before to do anything besides sleep. Since she also zonked out after performances, she’d tried not to take his disinterest in sex personally.

When she looked up at him, he was smiling at her. His happiness even touched his dark eyes, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’d really like that,” he said.

“I think my old roommates still live in town. Maybe I’ll give them a call and see if they’d like to meet us.”

“I’d like that too.” The line moved forward another customer, and Kellen stepped closer to her. “You know what else I’d like?” His whispered words tickled her ear, shattering her concentration and making her shiver.

Before she could gather her thoughts, he murmured, “A taste of that honey between your legs.”

At his suggestive teasing, her honey began to flow for him. She’d been starting to think she wasn’t sexy enough to keep his attention, so she was gratified by his words.

“Before we head back to the venue,” he said, “we should stop by the hotel to make sure our bags have been delivered to our suite.”

“Is it possible they haven’t?” She glanced up at him, worried. There were valuable clothes in her suitcase. She hadn’t had time to pack her less formal attire before following Kellen to Beaumont, so she was stuck with the formal belongings in the suitcase she’d left in the car when she’d arrived at the beach house in Galveston. At the time, she didn’t think she’d need her gowns and dressy clothes, so hadn’t bothered lugging the extra baggage upstairs, but now she was just glad she had clean underwear and a couple of changes of clothes with her, no matter how rock-concert inappropriate they happened to be.

“I’m sure it’s all there,” he said. “It’s just that the dessert I crave requires a location more private than a street corner.”

“Oh.” Her face went hot. “Yes, we should definitely stop by the hotel. What hotel are we staying at?”

“I think it’s the Courtyard.”

“That’s only a few blocks in that direction.” She pointed toward the northwest. “After lunch, we can walk there.”

They were third in line now after having waited for twenty minutes.

“I’d really like to start with dessert,” he murmured, his dark eyes glassy with desire. For her.

“It’ll be better if you wait. The more you want it, the better it tastes when you finally earn your sweet reward.”

She got lost in his eyes and wasn’t sure if she was suddenly so hot because the muggy New Orleans air had become even more oppressive or because he was looking at her like she was the dessert of a lifetime.

“Can I help you?” the woman at the counter called out to them. A large gap had cleared out between them and the food truck.

“Change of plans,” Dawn said. She grabbed Kellen’s hand and hurried up the street in the direction of their hotel, tugging a laughing Kellen behind her.

By the time they entered their room, lunch and suitcases were completely forgotten. He practically tossed her onto the bed. Her skirt went up, panties went down. He spread her legs wide and stared down at the hot, achy flesh between her legs. She gasped when he bent over her, his breath tickling her pussy. He hesitated just before his mouth claimed the dessert he’d wanted, and yet before she could relax enough to enjoy his warm mouth, he stood.

“I have a better idea,” he said.

Better than his mouth on her? Impossible. Unless he was planning to put his cock inside her. He hadn’t done that since before they’d parted in Galveston. She lifted her head and watched him hurry to his suitcase.

“My suitcase is there, isn’t it?” she asked, feeling more than a little perturbed that he’d stop to check his bag now.

When he pulled out a length of soft pink rope, she understood his unexpected interest in his luggage. He wanted to tie her. She wasn’t sure she had the patience for that right now. As much as she loved the slow and careful attention he showed her when he turned her body into a work of art with nothing but lengths of rope, sometimes a woman just needed a tongue on her clit followed by a quick and hard fuck.

“Kellen, it’s not necessary. I’m already beyond turned on.”

“I need it.”

At least he was quick about it. Standing over her at the edge of the bed, he tied each wrist to a thigh, still fumbling with the final knot when his mouth latched on to her clit. He sucked and nibbled, licked and kissed, until her back arched and her feet curled and her center pulsed with release. He straightened and entered her, filling her with deep, hard strokes until her orgasm subsided, and then he pulled out. He bent over her to eat her pussy again, quickly bringing her to a second peak. Apparently her shuddering cry of release was his cue to fuck her again. She wanted to watch his face as they came together, but it felt so good to have her clenching pussy filled while she came that she couldn’t open her eyes. And when the ripples of pleasure finally stilled enough for her to pry her eyes open, he was back to sucking and licking and biting and oh, God, what was he doing now?

She lost track of how many times he brought her to orgasm with his mouth, how often he rewarded her release with fast, hard strokes with his hard-as-stone cock.

“I thought I could do one more,” he said brokenly.

He pulled out before she’d settled from her most recent orgasm. A slick pounding sound that unfortunately did not involve her body gave her the strength to open her eyes. Transfixed, her heart hammering in her chest, she watched him stroke his cock with one hand. She yanked at her bonds, wanting that beautiful cock between her palms, and then gasped aloud when he came on her mound. Eyes squeezed shut, he swayed on his feet, rubbing his tip into the cum he’d left on her skin.

“That was perfect,” he said.

Dawn agreed and watched as he pulled his pants up, tucking his spent cock into his jeans and fastening them. She had to admit that her body was completely satisfied, but her heart and soul cried out for him as he turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

She guessed he wasn’t the type to cuddle.

Dawn realized how uncomfortable her body was positioned after she’d been lying there a couple of minutes. He usually took such care when he tied her, and she wondered why he’d bother tying her at all if he wasn’t going to do it right. Water ran in the bathroom sink, and a moment later he emerged, looking so devastatingly gorgeous and apologetic that she couldn’t stay perturbed at him. He carried a towel and several wash cloths. As he slowly approached the bed, his gaze caressed every inch of her exposed body. Though his knotting technique didn’t live up to his usual care and imagination, it did effectively hold her legs wide open. She let him look at her—not that she had much of a choice—but even if she hadn’t been bound, she wouldn’t have tried to block his view. That sensual stare of his made her feel beautiful and desired, treasured even.

He didn’t speak as he leaned over her and very slowly, very gently, began to clean his cum from her skin. His free hand caressed her thigh, her hip, and the curve of her waist as he tenderly washed her highly satisfied pussy. As she lay watching him, feeling him, she wondered why her pussy was the only part of her that felt satisfied. She wanted more of him. Not his cock. Not even that talented mouth of his. She wanted to feel him against her.

“Kelly,” she whispered, her voice scratchy from all the moaning she’d done.

He lifted his chin and met her eyes.

“Will you ever be able to make love to me without tying me?”

“I hope so,” he said, his hand moving to the ropes that bound her forearms to her calves. “I’m not quite there yet.”

She tried to be understanding—even nodded—but wasn’t sure why this particular vice of his and his inability to get past it hurt her heart.

“I still feel guilty for wanting you. For acting on it.” His smile became wicked. “Just not guilty enough to stop.”

“Do you tie me so you feel like all the blame for our coming together rests on you? Because I’m definitely half of this equation.” And while she enjoyed when he took control and made her come over and over again while she was forced to accept whatever he did to her, she would also like to be more than a recipient. She’d like to give him as much pleasure as he gave her.

After a moment, during which he watched the action of his hands as he continued to wash her skin, he again lifted his head. “That’s part of it,” he said. “I guess I like to feel miserable about my choices.”

How could anyone like to feel miserable?

“But the bigger part is even more selfish. I love the way you look when you’re all helpless and at my mercy. If you weren’t tied right now, I doubt you’d be holding still while I clean you.”

“I’d be plastered to your body so I could feel every inch of you against every inch of me. I want that.”

“I’d be happy to make all your wants a reality,” he said, working at one of the knots that kept her immobilized.

“You would?”

“All you have to do is ask.”

Her leg came free, and he massaged her hip to help her extend it. Her shoulder ached a bit as she straightened her arm and before she could complain, he massaged that joint as well. He untied her other leg and repeated the gentle massages on that side. She shifted to a seated position, wrapped her arms around him and pulled until he tumbled onto the bed on top of her. She pressed her chest and belly up against him, disappointed that they were both still partially clothed.

“Take your pants off,” she said, putting a hand on his chest and squirming for a bit of space so she could shed her shirt and bra.

His body stiffened, and his heart thudded faster beneath her palm. “I’m not ready for this.”

His eyes were wide as a spooked horse’s.

“I don’t want more sex,” she said. “Just some skin on skin cuddling.”

When her words didn’t relax him, she stroked his back with slow, gentle caresses. She figured she was stuck with above the waist petting for now. She was okay with that.

“Leave them on then,” she said. “It’s okay.”

“I’m already getting excited again,” he said with a breathless chuckle. “And we both know where that will lead if I take my pants off.”

She didn’t want to pressure him—much—but she was more than ready to go exactly where that would lead. He wasn’t, though. “Just relax,” she said, her voice low and hopefully soothing. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“But I want to do it all. With you.”

He released a long breath and allowed the stiffness to flow out of his muscles, so that his weight was on her. She couldn’t stop herself from sighing in contentment. Yes, she needed this. To feel his body against hers. To be surrounded by his scent and his warmth. To delight in the tickle of his long hair brushing her neck. To hear his breath close to her ear. After a moment of lying in her arms, he shifted onto his side, drawing her against him. That was when her hands began to wander and her lips began to caress his neck, his jaw, his chin. She couldn’t be expected to just lie there when she had this much man in her arms. To her surprise, he didn’t stop her. His hands and lips began to wander as well. He left no inch of her unexplored, unkissed, and yet just when she was certain he was at a point of excitement where sex sans ropes was inevitable, he pulled away from her and climbed from the bed.

“We’d better head back to the venue,” he said, retrieving her panties from the floor and slipping them over her feet. “It’s getting late.”

She figured it was bad form to complain that she was excited and aroused when it had been her idea to cuddle, but they’d done so much more than cuddle. Eventually they’d make love together rather than him making love to her while she had no choice but to take and take and take some more, but apparently that wouldn’t be happening just now. She’d wait, wait for however long it took for him to allow himself pleasure without guilt. He was worth the wait. So she found her discarded clothing and made herself decent, noting that he was facing the wall with his hands on his hips as he waited for her.

“You don’t want to watch me dress?” she asked.

He shook his head, and she grinned. He was turned on too, she knew he was. It was his stupid little rule to keep promises that should have long ago been broken that prevented them both from being fully satisfied, but she’d wait. He was worth the wait.

When she finished dressing, she went to him, resting a hand on his back and dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, where the gorgeous gray-scale rendering of a life-like stallion decorated his skin.

“The naughty naked lady is all covered now,” she said.

“You’d think years of celibacy would make this easier,” he said with a pained chuckle. “I think it actually makes it more difficult. I wish I could take everything you’re offering me, Dawn.”

“You can.” One arm wrapped around his waist, and she splayed her hand over the center of his chest. He covered her hand and held it there against his pounding heart. “The only thing stopping you is you.”

“I know. I make myself sick!”

She laughed. He was worth the wait. He had to be.

He’d better be.

*****

A limo was waiting to take them back to the venue, and Dawn didn’t complain as they slid into the cavernous back seat. She wouldn’t have minded a bit more snuggling while they rode, but Kellen whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He immediately burst out laughing. When Dawn nudged him and lifted her brows, he passed her the phone.

“Is that Owen?” she asked, squinting at the screen and the rather white ass filling it. “What is he doing?”

“Mooning cows.”

Dawn cocked one brow at him. “Why?”

“Letting off a little steam. I’m glad Jacob got him away from Lindsey for a couple of hours. They’re bringing back crawdads and jambalaya for dinner.”

Dawn’s stomach growled, and she covered it with one hand. “Good. I’m starved. Not naming any names, but someone distracted me from getting lunch.”

“That’s unfortunate. I enjoyed the most delicious honeyed dessert.”

Dawn crossed her legs and squeezed them together as her body very clearly remembered his sweet feasting.

When the limo pulled to a halt, the door immediately opened, and Gabe—looking very stern—practically yanked Dawn out.

“If you let me stay, I’ll talk Mel into a threesome,” said a pretty, young brunette to the crimson-Mohawked drummer. Gabe firmly shook his head. “Come on, Force,” the woman said. “We’d rock your world.”

“I don’t want to have a threesome with you, or anyone else for that matter. I’d just like a little time alone with Melanie, if you don’t mind.”

As soon as Kellen emerged from the car, Gabe began to stuff the good-time woman inside. “Parker, take her back to the hotel. Don’t let her talk you into any side adventures, be they threesomes or anything else.”

“Uh,” the limo driver muttered, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“I’m sure Parker knows how to have more fun than you do,” the woman sputtered. “What kind of rock star doesn’t want to bang two gorgeous chicks at the same time?”

“The kind trying to make a serious connection with the friend you claim to care about,” he said, slamming the door before she could reply.

Dawn exchanged a confused look with Kellen, who shrugged. The limo window hummed as it rolled down.

“I do care about her.”

“Then give her a fucking break, Nikki.”

Nikki scowled at Gabe before she slumped back into the seat, crossing her arms over her chest and setting her beautiful face into an unbecoming pout.

“I just want to have a good time,” she said. “I’m sure you could easily talk Melanie into a threesome with us.”

“I will not now, nor will I ever, pressure Melanie into spreading her legs for you, Nikki.”

“You’re so mean,” she said, tears falling in torrents from her blue eyes.

Dawn might have felt sorry for the obviously distraught woman if Nikki’s reason for crying hadn’t been so absurd.

The limo eased forward.

“And stay out of trouble!” Gabe called after the retreating car. Nikki gave him the finger and rolled up the window.

“Do I want to ask?” Kellen asked Gabe.

“Melanie’s baggage is driving me insane.” Gabe offered Dawn a nod of greeting, which she returned, before he stalked off toward the arena’s door.

“Are threesomes common among rock stars?” Dawn asked, hiding a teasing smile behind a fake cough.

“Depends on the rock star.” Kellen wrapped an arm around her lower back and directed her toward the backstage entrance.

Owen practically pounced on Kellen the moment he entered the dressing room, launching into a spiel about being chased down by an angry bull and Jacob being more concerned about preserving the moment in pictures than saving his life.

“We can always find another bassist,” Kellen teased.

“Hey,” Owen said, slapping his friend on the arm. “Don’t forget you wouldn’t even be in this band if it wasn’t for me.”

“How could I forget something you remind me of at every opportunity?”

Dawn felt incredibly third-wheelish standing there next to them, but was glad to finally see evidence of the friendship between the two men. They both lit up with delight, clicking together so perfectly that she had a hard time following some of their conversation. Or they were that way until Lindsey headed their way. The instant Kellen saw her, he shifted his hand to cover his wristwatch and went all quiet and stiff. Owen actually flinched when he caught sight of the woman.

“There you are,” Lindsey said, covering her belly with one hand.

Dawn wasn’t sure if her action was a protective reflex or if she was intentionally drawing attention to her condition.

“I was getting so lonely here with no one but Jordan to keep me company.”

Dawn did a quick check of the room and spotted a young man watching Lindsey with an intensity that reminded her of a junior high boy with his first crush—Jordan, she presumed. Lindsey didn’t notice Jordan’s stare of longing; she was too busy looping her arm through Owen’s and sniffing the air with a deep inhale.

“That Cajun food you brought smells absolutely delicious. Is it time to eat? You’re always so thoughtful and thinking of others. I’ve never met anyone as considerate as you are.”

Owen actually smiled at her compliment and allowed her to direct him toward the rapidly forming buffet line.

Kellen didn’t follow. Instead he turned to Dawn. “Are you ready to eat?”

She lifted a brow at him. “Does Lindsey stick to Owen like industrial strength glue?”

He glanced after his stuck friend. “Uh, yeah?”

“There’s your answer.”

Dawn tried to keep Kellen talking, but they ended up a couple of people in line behind the pregnant ghost of Sara, and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but misery.

“She’s not Sara,” Dawn said quietly when the line moved but he hadn’t.

“I know,” he said, scooping jambalaya onto his paper plate.

Maybe he did know Lindsey wasn’t Sara’s ghost, but Dawn could tell he was struggling.

Spicy and savory, the food was excellent, though it had gotten a little cold in transport. Yet not nearly as cold as Kellen had become as he sat beside her in sullen silence. Every time she tried to strike up conversation, he gave her a one-word answer if he even bothered answering. She had to help him free himself from his past love once and for all so that he didn’t sport that guilty, crippled-soul look on his face every time he was around someone or something that reminded him of Sara. Had he really been living like this for five years? How miserable for him. Dawn searched for his hand beneath the table and found it wrapped around his wrist again. She covered it and squeezed. If he couldn’t get past this on his own, then they’d get past it together. Avoiding Lindsey wasn’t the answer. He needed to move on so that the mere presence of the woman didn’t tie him in knots. Especially if she became a fixture in his best friend’s life.

After dinner Dawn had the privilege of hanging around in the green room with the band and a couple of their girlfriends. Sweet, seemingly shy Madison was focused on Adam with a worshipful stare that left no doubt that she was completely besotted with the lead guitarist. She could scarcely get out two words without flushing. Melanie, in contrast, had more than a few words for Gabe. The strikingly lovely and leggy brunette seemed upset about the argument that had resulted in threesome-desiring Nikki leaving the premises. Gabe was doing his best to distract Melanie by introducing her to everyone in the room. When the couple reached Dawn and Kellen, the first thing out of Kellen’s mouth was, “This is Dawn O’Reilly. Not only is she beautiful, smart, and talented, but she won a Grammy earlier this year.”

Dawn flushed and elbowed him in the ribs. Not that she didn’t like his compliments, but it was hard to be considered normal and approachable after an introduction like that.

“You’re a musician?” Melanie sputtered, giving her the twice-over. Maybe she assumed Dawn was a rock musician or a pop star. Admittedly, she looked neither part.

“The Grammy was for one of my compositions,” Dawn said, hoping her smile looked friendly. Dear lord, what was she supposed to say to Melanie now? Dawn couldn’t stand a braggart. Her father was the biggest braggart she’d ever encountered. Had her statement about her Grammy sounded like bragging? God, she hoped not.

“She does play the piano,” Kellen added. “Her fingers are magical.”

“Oh, I bet,” Gabe said with a smirk. “It isn’t every gorgeous redhead who can get this tough crack to nut.”

Dawn puzzled over Gabe’s idiom. “Isn’t the saying ‘tough nut to crack’?”

“Oh, I know the saying,” Gabe said, his smirk widening. “I said exactly what I meant.”

It took Kellen slugging Gabe in the arm for her to realize that Gabe was making a joke, and a few times of running Gabe’s muddled saying through her head to figure out he was razzing them about sex. Her inability to blend in might not be Kellen’s fault after all, but rather her own. Dawn wasn’t sure if she should be more embarrassed by Kellen bringing up her Grammy or her apparent lack of a sense of humor.

“When she plays that piano,” Kellen said, “it makes my soul shudder as if in orgasm. Is a soulgasm a thing? Because she gives them to me.”

Unable to believe he’d said that in polite company—if Gabe and Melanie could be considered polite company—Dawn blinked and then said, “Will you quit?”

“And you should hear the song she composed the other night,” Kellen said, his low voice dancing along her spine. If he kept talking like that, she’d insist they spend the time before the show alone together so she could make good on the promise in his tone.

The suggestiveness of his comment did not go unnoticed by Gabe, who bit his bottom lip and lifted his brows. Dawn licked her lips and turned to Kellen, figuring the best way to stop the teasing was to play along. She pinned Kellen with her most sultry gaze, hoping she looked more like Marilyn Monroe and less like Debbie doing-all-of-Dallas, and said, “Maybe I’ll write another tonight.”

His hand resting on her lower back tightened into a fist, tugging her top against her skin and instantly enslaving her to his mercy. He didn’t need ropes to do that. He just had to look at her as if he intended to devour her whole.

Someone cleared his throat. “Would you two like to be alone?” Gabe asked, breaking the spell Kellen had cast over her.

Kellen turned to Gabe and drew back, as if startled. “Gabe! When did you get here?”

“I was here before you arrived.”

“Didn’t notice.”

Gabe nodded in Dawn’s direction and grinned. “With Dawn beside you, I doubt you’d notice if the room was on fire.”

But judging by his cringe, he had noticed that Lindsey had just come out of the bathroom and was searching the room for signs of poor Owen again. Dawn wondered what Owen’s new woman was like. Was Caitlyn truly as fabulous as Owen claimed, or was he just acting infatuated to throw Lindsey off his scent? A new girlfriend would have to be infinitely patient to deal with his current situation.

Someone called Kellen to the stage, and Dawn tagged along, interested in anything related to music, even all the massive technologically enhanced equipment that went with putting on a huge rock concert. Kellen was amused by her questions and had returned to his normal easy-going self within moments of leaving his band behind in the dressing room.

“So are you always tense around the guys in your band?” she asked as they made their way back to the dressing room, where he’d likely become that closeted stranger again. “It must make touring difficult.”

“What do you mean? I’m not tense around the guys.”

“You sure seem tense to me. Every time we’re with them, you get all quiet and closed off.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He’d been fine talking to Owen and Gabe when they’d interacted one-on-one. Maybe he just couldn’t deal with more than one person at a time.

“You’re imagining things,” he said.

He opened the dressing room door and peeked inside. He released a relieved breath and entered the room, heading directly for the unoccupied sofa. In fact, the entire room was currently unoccupied. And Kellen was once again perfectly at ease.

“See,” Dawn said, following him. “They’re not here and you’re all relaxed and calm.”

“She’s not here,” he corrected.

“Who?” But the moment she asked, she knew who he was referring to. “Lindsey.”

He nodded and slumped onto the sofa. She sat beside him.

“I wish she didn’t make me feel this way,” he said, “but I can’t help it. Every time I see her, I feel so fucking guilty for being with you. And you’re the one I want to be with. The only one.”

She wanted to be with him too, even if their relationship took a bit of effort.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure out a way to get you through this. If making this work requires throwing her off a bridge, I’ll throw her off a damned bridge.”

He laughed, but shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I just have to put up with her for a couple more hours and then hopefully I never have to see her again.”

“Even if she marries your best friend?”

Kellen covered his belly with one hand and pressed his lips together. Dawn was pretty sure he was going to throw up.

“Over my dead body,” he muttered.

“You realize that as Owen’s best man, you’ll be the one to raise a toast in their honor at their wedding reception.”

“Stop,” he said, grabbing her and tickling her until she was bucking around on the sofa. “That’s not even remotely funny.”

The dressing room door opened, and they separated like a pair of teenagers who’d been caught making out on her parents’ sofa.

Owen poked his head in, and Kellen loosed a relieved sigh.

“There you are,” Owen said, entering the room.

When Lindsey waddled in after him, Kellen groaned aloud. Dawn was becoming very fond of her throwing-Lindsey-off-a-bridge idea.

“It’s like you’re intentionally avoiding me or something.”

“I’m not,” Kellen said.

Owen narrowed his eyes and twisted his mouth to one side, but Kellen wasn’t avoiding Owen, just the young blonde attached to his hip. He wouldn’t even look at her, and Dawn understood why. Maybe she should hand Owen a clue. He was obviously sporting hurt feelings over Kellen’s reaction to him.

“Every time you get a girlfriend, it’s as if I don’t exist,” Owen said, tossing an undeserved glare of malice in Dawn’s direction.

He stalked off, Lindsey in his wake, and headed for the bar in the back of the room. Kellen squeezed his eyes shut.

“You should explain that it’s not him you’re avoiding,” Dawn whispered to him.

“I will,” Kellen said, “after she’s gone.”

Someone sat beside her on the sofa, and Dawn was surprised to find Adam looking at her expectantly. He seemed to think she could read his mind.

“How did you get past your writer’s block?” Adam asked when she just stared at him.

Other than Gabe, with his bright red Mohawk and dragon tattoos, Adam looked more like a rock star than the rest of the band. His shoulder-length ebony hair—a shade too dark to be natural—was purposely sticking up in all directions, and he wore chains and leather as if he’d emerged from the womb ready to ride a Harley.

Dawn’s face went hot as memories of how Kellen had gotten her over her writing hump—erm, slump—by engaging her in a rather vigorous, uh, hump. “Um, well, I uh . . .”

Adam lifted an eyebrow at Kellen, who was smiling rather self-indulgently.

“She was inspired,” Kellen said.

Adam snorted on a laugh. “By your dick?”

“Uh . . .” Dawn reminded herself that she didn’t have to censor herself around these guys, which was actually a welcome change from her usual crowd. “No, his dick came later.”

Kellen laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Not that much later.”

“Stop,” she said, slapping his thigh. “You make it sound so tawdry, and it was beautiful.”

She turned her attention to Adam, finding him as intense as usual. “I was inspired by his passion.”

Adam actually took a moment to give Kellen the twice-over, as if he were considering being inspired by his bandmate’s passion. “Whelp,” he said, pushing off his thighs to stand. “That’s out.”

Chuckling, Dawn grabbed Adam’s wrist and tugged him back down beside her. Knowing how hard it was to deal with being stuck, she wanted to help him overcome his block. “Your inspiration doesn’t have to be a gorgeous, soaking wet warrior of a man rising from the sea in a storm.”

“Say what?” Owen said from near the bar.

Jacob, who was apparently also listening, laughed.

“I think inspiration can be found in anything that shakes you up.” Dawn took a deep shuddering breath, thoughts of that night—deliciously dirty thoughts—circulating through her head. She touched her hot cheeks, willing herself to calm down, but it was no use. “I don’t know, maybe it was his dick that I found so inspiring.”

“Care for a bit more inspiration?” Kellen whispered.

“You don’t have enough time before the show to give me the care and attention I deserve.” If they started something now, she would need it to continue for hours. Dawn kissed his nose and melded into his side.

When Madison entered the room, Adam completely lost interest in their conversation and rose from the sofa. “Uh, later.”

He was gone before Dawn could even say goodbye. “He really has a thing for her,” Dawn said, watching him cross to the bar. Even as he was ordering, his attention was on Madison.

“Well, she did save his life.”

Dawn’s curiosity was stirred. “In what way?”

“She was his addiction counselor. He stays clean for her.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Everything about this band is complicated,” Kellen said.

That was no lie.