Treasure Me

  “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.

  Chapter Three

  After the concert, Kellen removed the wide silver watch from his wrist and set it on Jacob’s bunk. Before Dawn had arrived to inform him it wasn’t his place to tell her he wasn’t good for her, he’d needed something to replace the cuff he usually wore—the one Owen had confiscated and buried somewhere—but now that she was here and Lindsey was on her way to Austin, he felt he could take the steps he needed to finally move on. And the first step was ridding himself of the ridiculous need to cover his wrist. Maybe with it gone, he could stop fixating on an object that served to remind him of his commitment to Sara. Correction, his broken commitment. He picked up the watch again—examining it, considering it—and then shoved it under Jacob’s pillow so that it was completely out of sight. He didn’t want it fucking with his head for another second.

  Dawn’s hand pressed against the base of Kellen’s spine, and she leaned against his bare back. He’d known her two days, yet he already knew her touch and even her presence without having to look at her.

  “Are you sure you want to spend the weekend in Galveston?” she asked. “We could stay here in New Orleans or go someplace else. Someplace where you don’t have memories of Sara to haunt you.”

  He turned and folded her in his arms. “I’m sure you hate feeling like you’re in her shadow.” Especially since he’d been acting like an ass every time Lindsey made an appearance that day. But he didn’t have to see Sara’s ghost anymore. Owen had taken her back to Austin, so along with the watch that had served as a reminder, the bigger reminder was now gone. He could breathe freely again.

  “I don’t mind,” Dawn said.

 
“Liar.”

  She laughed. “She’s part of you. I know she comes as part of the package.”

  But that wasn’t fair to Dawn.

  “I need to release myself from her hold once and for all, do what I’d planned to do the night we met. But I can put that off if you don’t want to be there for me.”

  He cringed; his words hadn’t come out right. He’d meant that it was something he could do alone, not that he thought she couldn’t support him.

  Dawn shifted away and gazed up at him with those green-flecked hazel eyes that he loved staring into. Long strands of her hair tickled his arm when the glorious red waves brushed against his