Dissonance (7 page)

CHAPTER NINE

K
enzie took Chase to Puckett’s for lunch. He said he wanted to try a Nashville favorite, but something different than the hot chicken. It offered a lot more variety, which was probably a good thing for a Nashville newbie, and it was one of her favorites.

“Do you have a recommendation?” he asked. “And preferably one that won’t make me breathe fire?”

She stifled a chuckle. Maybe hot chicken had been a little too hot for his first Nashville meal, but at the time he’d seemed kind of brash and cocky, and had also been subtly putting down Kenzie’s preferred music genre. Torturing him, at least a tiny bit, had been fun. Since then, though, Chase had proven himself to be a gentleman as well as a serious musician who seemed to be gaining a respect for country music. Or at lest Kenzie’s music. She was inclined to go a little easier on him now.

“The Tennessee Philly, with brisket, is always a winner,” Kenzie said. “Or the fried catfish is another good choice.”

“Which are you having?”

“Hmm.” Kenzie studied the menu. “Neither.” On the occasions she’d come here with Jesse, she’d always ordered only a simple house salad without meat. The last thing she wanted was to endure more snarky comments about her weight and her appearance. In the first couple months after her treatment, she still gravitated toward the “rabbit” food and low calorie options, which her therapist said was natural. Over time, though, as her confidence and her strength returned, so did her appetite. It was a tremendous relief to not have to feel guilty about her dinner choices or fear the consequences. “I’m having the redneck burrito.” It was a burrito with smoked pulled pork, baked beans, barbecue sauce and slaw. “It’s always been my favorite.”

Their server came, and she placed the order with confidence, no longer hearing the echoes of Jesse’s voice telling her, “It’s disgusting. You’re disgusting. You better have the salad.” It was nice to be free.

Chase took her recommendation for the Tennessee Philly, then asked, “Do you come here a lot?”

“Not in quite a while, actually, but it’s a good place, and not far from where I live,” she said. “How do you like Nashville so far?”

“I like it a lot,” Chase said. “Not that I’ve seen much, but it’s very vibrant, alive. There’s always something going on. And you’re right in the thick of it, here.”

Kenzie nodded. “Yeah, that’s why live where I do. I like being right in the thick of it, as you put it.” She took a drink of water. “After lunch, there’s some place I want to take you, if you don’t have other plans.”

“Nope, nothing else to do,” Chase said. “It’ll be good to see some of the city. I figured on being holed up all day working on the song.”

“Yeah, you and me both, especially the way I fought the words last night. I can’t believe we got it done so fast.” And better yet, she liked it. A lot. Hopefully Keith would, too.

“I know,” Chase said. “We just seemed to find the zone, for lack of a better term. The only person I’ve worked so well with in writing a song is my band mate, Jordy. But we’ve been buds since high school, and been writing songs almost as long. To find a songwriting chemistry like that with someone I only met a few days ago is pretty incredible.” His voice and his face grew more animated as he talked. One thing was for sure. Chase loved music.

“Do you you collaborate on songs with a lot of other people?” Kenzie asked.

“No, not really,” he said. “Jordy and I write almost everything for A New Horizon. Sometimes Garrett, that’s our drummer, will write some with us, but it’s mainly Jordy and me.”

“Like Lennon and McCartney?” Kenzie said, teasing a little.

Chase let out a raucous laugh. “Yeah, right. We may have one platinum album, but we’ll need a lot more to even come within spitting distance of legends like that. It’s nice to dream, though.”

“That it is.” Kenzie had plenty of dreams herself. At the top of the list was recording her first post-Jesse hit. Maybe
Upside Down
, by Radcliffe and Bolton, would be the one. Their names sounded good together, at least.

“What about you? Do you have any great song writing partners?”

“Nope. I mainly write on my own,” Kenzie said. “In fact, this is my first collaboration.”

“Is that right?” Chase smiled that sexy smile of his. “In that case, darlin,’ I’m truly honored to be your first.”

***

All through lunch—which was delicious. They definitely knew how to eat in Nashville—Chase wondered where it was that Kenzie wanted to take him. Once they got there, the answer was obvious, and he wondered why he hadn’t figured it out sooner.

The Country Music Hall of Fame.

“Promise me no snide comments?” Kenzie asked as they went inside.

“I promise. I want to see this,” Chase said, and he meant it. Heck, maybe he’d even learn something. He reached for Kenzie’s hand, which she accepted without hesitation. “Lead the way.”

“We’ll see it all,” she said. “But I think I know what you’ll like first.”

It turned out to be an exhibit featuring Gretsch guitars from 1930 to the 1980s, seventy-five guitars in total. “Wow,” Chase said. “Pretty incredible. How’d you know I want to see this?”

Kenzie shrugged. “I don’t know, lucky guess. I mean, you’re a rocker, so you must love your guitars, right? Even if your true passion is to play the ukelele, which tells me maybe you’re country at heart.”

“Ha ha, funny,” Chase said. “I never said the uke was my passion, just that I wanted to try a song with it.” It remained to be seen whether Keith would be as excited. “I’m still a guitar player at heart, though. I use a Gibson right now. Les Paul Studio.”

“In that case, you’ll have to check out the Gibson factory at the Opry Mills,” Kenzie said. “You can even watch them make the guitars.”

“Wow,” Chase said, impressed. “That sounds cool.”

“I bet you can’t do that in New Hampshire,” Kenzie said with a grin.

“No.” Chase shook his head. “That you can’t.” It was a different world here, for sure, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be based in a city that was so connected to the music industry, as opposed to one that was completely disconnected from it. He had friends in the business that repeatedly warned him that he’d soon outgrow his quaint New Hampshire town and have to move somewhere closer to the pulse, but Chase never wanted to believe it. Still, it was impossible to deny that Nashville was so much more alive. And being with Kenzie certainly made him feel alive.

Christ, where did that come from? Chase tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. “Where to next?” he asked.

Kenzie showed him around the rest of the museum and exhibit hall, tracing the history of country music. He saw Carl Perkins’ blue suede shoes and Elvis Presley’s gold piano, and probably a bit too much memorabilia from
Hee Haw
. He did get a kick out of Burt Reynolds’
Pontiac Trans-Am from
Smokey
and the Bandit
II
. “Sweet,” Chase said, admiring it.

“Boys and their toys.” Kenzie rolled her eyes.  “Come on, I want you to see the wall of records.”

Chase wasn’t sure what she meant, but it turned out to be a very impressive two-story wall of gold and platinum albums, from floor to ceiling. Many of the songs he recognized, and others he’d never heard of. Kenzie seemed particularly drawn to the display, tracing her finger along some of the cases, until she came to one, where she froze.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” Kenzie said, but her tone was flat, and her eyes took on a distant expression. It was like she was there with him, but not really. Her mind was somewhere else.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Chase said. He leaned forward and read the name on the record. The one that stopped Kenzie in her tracks and seemed to change her whole demeanor in a matter of seconds.

Roxy Marshall.

It meant absolutely nothing to him.

“Who’s Roxy Marshall?” he wanted to know. “I mean, excuse my ignorance, but I doubt she’s up there with Trisha Yearwood.” Ms. Yearwood, after all, had a whole glass case to herself. Roxy, on the other hand, had merely an album on the wall.

“No, of course not,” Kenzie said. “She was Jesse’s first wife, though. The one he got on this wall.”

Now Chase was starting to understand, at least a little. “You want a record on this wall.”

“Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t?”

Chase had never thought of it before, but now had to admit it would be pretty cool. It wasn’t the be all and end all, though. He could think of plenty of things he wanted more. “Let me guess, Jesse promised you a spot on the wall.”

Silence followed, and Kenzie continued staring at Roxy’s record, before finally nodding. “Yes. It’s not the only promise he made to me that he broke.”

“At least you recognize that.” Chase tugged gently at her hand. “Come on, darlin’, we’re getting out of here.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know, but out of here,” he said. “Some place we can talk. I want you to tell me what really happened with that jerk you were married to, and this time don’t hold anything back.”

“I’ve already told you what happened with Jesse,” Kenzie tried to insist.

“I don’t think so. You told me a little, sure, but can you really stand there with a straight face and tell me you told me everything?”

CHAPTER TEN

O
f course she hadn’t told Chase everything about the nightmare. She hadn’t told anyone everything. Not her counselors or her peers in her treatment group, and not even Aunt Audrey, who was the only real family Kenzie had. No, she’d told them enough to get through it. As for Chase, he was right. She’d told him only a little. Kenzie had hoped it would be enough to appease him and make him stop asking questions. Now she wondered if she’d only incited more questions.

Maybe it was a mistake to take him to the Country Music Hall of Fame. She’d wanted him to see the guitars and learn some of the rich history of the genre of music that she loved so much. And Chase seemed to enjoy it, so that part was nice. But staring at the wall of gold records, and particularly one record on display there, always got to Kenzie. In spite of the progress she’d made, not all of the ghosts from her past life were vanquished. And seeing Roxy Marshall’s name on display brought them back.

They walked briskly, and in silence, the short distance back to Kenzie’s loft, and this time, when they were inside and she went to get a drink from the refrigerator, she made it a beer, not sweet tea. She handed Chase one, too, and he nodded his thanks before using his shirt to twist the cap off.

“Do you want to tell me what went on back there?” he asked, after taking a drink. “Because everything was going well, until you saw that Roxy chick’s record, and then you got weird.”

“I got ‘weird?’” Kenzie repeated. “Gee, thanks a lot. Do you say that to women a lot? Because it might explain why you’ve never been in love.”

“Funny,” Chase said. “But not really. Believe me, I’m plenty good at sweet talking a woman, when I want to, and I’d be more than happy to show off some of my skills on you, when you’re feeling better. Right now, I want to know what’s upsetting you. That’s all I meant by weird. I could tell something was bothering you.”

Kenzie almost got stuck on his skills, and how much she wanted him to show them off, but she knew he wasn’t letting this drop so easily. “You’re perceptive,” she said, before taking a swallow of beer. “Sorry for getting weird on you. The feelings come back at odd times.”

Chase nodded. “That Roxy woman, Jesse’s first wife. I take it you don’t like her much?”

“Actually, I’ve never met her.” She had friends who tried to tell her she should seek Roxy out. Maybe they’d find common ground. Maybe she’d learn that she wasn’t the first woman Jesse Cole almost killed. Kenzie wasn’t interested, though. She doubted she’d have anything in common with Roxy. After all, Roxy was perfect, or so Jesse seemed to think. “But I got compared to her practically every day of my life while I was married to Jesse.”

“He drew comparisons between you and his first wife? Gosh, what a prince of a guy.” Chase’s tone was thick with sarcasm.

“Yeah, and I always came up short.” Kenzie walked over to the living room window and looked out at the street below. Even in mid-afternoon on a weekday, Nashville’s SoBro district bustled with activity. “Roxy was a better singer. She had a better vocal range, a more pleasant voice, stronger stage presence,” Kenzie said. “And she was prettier than me, smarter than me, thinner than me. That was the one I heard the most, that she was thinner than me. Jesse picked on me all the time about my weight and appearance.

“First, it was subtle digs. He’d caution me about eating dessert because I had a video shoot coming up, and the camera adds ten pounds. Before long, it wasn’t just limited to dessert. He’d urge me to skip breakfast, because it looked like I was putting on weight. Pretty soon, everything became a criticism. It got to the point that I didn’t want to eat anything in front of him because I didn’t want to listen to his comments anymore.”

“So you stopped eating?” Chase asked.

“Oh, no, I still ate. I just did it in secret.” Kenzie set her drink down on the windowsill and turned around to face him. “You’ve heard of bulimia, right?”

“Of course. I come from a family of doctors, remember?” Chase said, then fell silent as recognition dawned on his face.

“I started binging, on everything thing I could find. Potato chips, donuts, chocolate bars, you name it,” Kenzie said. “And then I’d make myself vomit, sometimes three or four times a day.”

“I...” Chase started, then stopped. He set his beer on the coffee table and walked toward her, but still maintained a comfortable distance between them, as if not to pressure her.

“Don’t know what to say?”

“Yeah.” He went into his familiar stance, with his hands jammed in his pockets.

“I understand. Most people don’t know how to react,” Kenzie said. “It’s okay. I’m fine now. I went through treatment, and I can honestly say this is the healthiest and happiest I’ve been since before Jesse.” Even if her new album had bombed.

“Treatment,” Chase said. “So that speculation on that gossip site that you were in rehab was sort of true...”

Gossip site? She had a pretty good idea what he referred to. “I went through inpatient treatment, so yeah. TDZ just tried to imply I was a coke head.” Kenzie managed a half-smile. “What’d you do, Google me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Chase gave her a sheepish smile. “When I left here yesterday, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something you weren’t telling me.”

Kenzie wanted to be angry with him for invading her privacy, but she found it impossible. For one thing, she’d given up her privacy when she entered the music business. Then there was the simple, undeniable fact that she would have done the exact same thing had she been in his shoes. “Fair enough.” She shrugged. “Well, there you have it. The sordid truth. Now you know what a mess I really am.”

“I don’t think you’re a mess,” Chase said. “You’re not a mess.” He walked closer to her. “I think you’re beautiful and talented and incredibly strong, especially for having the courage to leave that bastard, then getting help, and for being able to tell me.”

“You think I’m beautiful, really?” Even with everything he said, Kenzie got caught up on that word first.

“Do you even have to ask? I thought that was fairly obvious by now,” Chase said. “That’s why I’m fighting the urge to kiss you right now.”

“Don’t fight it,” Kenzie whispered.

“What?”

“I said don’t fight. Kiss me. And this time, don’t be so quick to stop.”

***

At first, Chase wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. Then Kenzie repeated it. She wanted him to kiss her. And not just kiss her, it sounded like she wanted him to do a whole lot more than that. So kiss her he did, gently at first, until she parted her lips to respond; then he increased the urgency just a little. Not too much, though. No. He’d let Kenzie dictate how far things went.

Okay, so his damn dick was already voicing its opinion on that matter.
Yeah, I know what you want, buddy.
It had been ready to spring to attention from the first moment he’d met Kenzie, so of course it was quick to stand up and salute with pride now.

Kenzie obviously noticed it, too, because she reached one of her hands down and rubbed it over his crotch, which only sent more blood flow to that region. “Jesus.” Chase separated his mouth from hers long enough to croak the word out, before kissing her again.

Right about here was where Lisanne turned cold on him. She’d been all hot to trot, telling him how much she wanted him. Sure, right up until he got aroused, then suddenly, nope. She wanted no part of that stiff, veiny, throbbing thing pushing inside her. Kenzie, on the other hand, obviously had no squeamishness about a man’s erect penis, for which Chase was grateful. Until she undid his zipper, reached inside his boxers and took his shaft in her hand. Then he put his hand down to stop her. “Not like this,” he said.

When Kenzie looked up at him with uncertain eyes, Chase kissed her doubts away. “I just meant if I’m going to make love to you, I’m going to do it the right way.” No Wham, Bam, thank you ma’am right here in the middle of her living room. Nope. He wasn’t sixteen anymore. He could keep his dick in check for some foreplay. Besides, Chase wanted to enjoy every inch of this exquisite woman.

He led her upstairs to the loft area, where the discarded remnants of their song writing lay in crumpled pieces on the floor. A couple of not so brilliant attempts at the final verse before they’d finally gotten it. Exactly what they wanted. A song they could be proud of. And now, they were about to make a different kind of music together.

Yeah, this woman had turned Chase upside down, that’s for sure. But it was exactly where he wanted to be. Here, undressing her, kissing her, caressing her, first with his fingers and then with his tongue, until Kenzie cried out his name with one climax as she begged for him to be inside her.

It was only then that Chase freed his erection, sheathed himself with a condom and entered her. She was wet and ready, and it took only one quick thrust to be fully inside her. As Kenzie arched her back to take him even deeper, they found their rhythm, moving together until Kenzie screamed again and Chase let go with one final spasm.

***

Kenzie wasn’t paying attention to the time, so she didn’t know how long they lay there, entwined in each other’s arms, until Chase stirred. “Where are you going? Don’t leave.”

“I’m not going far, darlin,’” he said. “Just gotta get rid of something.” He pulled off the used condom and went to the bathroom to throw it away. She heard the faucet run for a second, probably as he washed his hands. “See, I’m back.” He slid into bed beside her.

“Thank you.” Kenzie snuggled up against him again, enjoying the closeness and being at peace.

One of her mentors from therapy had told Kenzie that the first time she felt fully healed from her eating disorder was the first time she’d been naked, fully exposed, intimate with a man after her treatment, and instead of feeling self-conscious or insecure, she’d felt beautiful and loved. At the time, Kenzie had discounted the claim. Now she understood what Annabeth meant, because laying in Chase’s arms, Kenzie finally felt as if she was whole again.