Melody of Truth (Love of a Rockstar Book 3) (13 page)

“Watch it, bitch!” A heavy-set woman, holding a pink monstrosity that looked like it belonged to Barbie, knocked into me as she shuffled to the door.

I was going to kill Jane. She popped up next to me with a grin a mile wide. “Are you excited?”

“Are you kidding me? This is my worst nightmare. Besides, I already found a gown.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It smells like mothballs and is yellowed at the hem.”

“I just need to dry clean it.

“You need to burn it and then burn it again for good measure.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “When Marco called me and said your wedding had been pushed up to—”

“Wait! Marco called you?”

“Yes, your future husband informed me that your wedding has been pushed up to this coming Saturday. Why didn’t you tell me? Are you not going through with it?”

“I am…” My voice was steeped in doubt.

“Are you really? Because you kissed Sean and it sounds like it wasn’t a one-off mistake. It sounds like you like-like him.”

“We are friends, nothing more.”

“Friends don’t kiss, Melody, and friends certainly don’t make you doubt your upcoming nuptials.”

Surrounded by a sea of off-white, I had to face reality. My heart belonged to two men, yet my decision hadn’t changed. I was marrying Marco; his son deserved a healthy life, and that wouldn’t be ruined by own selfishness.

“Melody? Jane?”

At the sound of my father’s voice behind us, I looked at Jane, whose eyes widened, silently pleading with me to forgive her. My father lived in Tulsa, Arizona, with his girlfriend, Kristen. They had met at a wine mixer geared toward widows. She was a sweet woman in her mid-sixties who had a fondness for turquoise.

My father’s tan complexion was one shade closer to pumpkin than it had been the last time I’d seen him, which was about six months ago. I’d had a layover and had met him for lunch at Olive Garden.

Kristen surged forward and wrapped me in a patchouli-scented hug. “Hey, sweetie. Thanks for inviting us.”

“Of course,” I murmured.

As she moved on to Jane, my dad stayed where he was, his eyes radiating disapproval. I was used to it at this point. My upcoming marriage was on a long list titled
Melody’s fuckups
.

“So!” Kristen’s turquoise bangles clicked together as she clapped. “Where should we start? Is there a certain designer you like?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it,” I confessed.

“No worries. It can be quite overwhelming. When my daughter got hitched, she tried on almost hundred gowns before she choose the one.”

A hundred? My gaze bounced around the chaos and I gulped in dread.

My father broke his silence, blasting a cold chill into the stifling room. “I can’t stand by and watch you marry a man you have known less than two months—a man I haven’t met!”

“Honey.” Kristen placed a placating hand on his arm, but he shook it off. With a growl, he stormed out.

“I’m sorry, this totally wasn’t how I imagined today playing out,” Jane moaned.

Her apology fell on deaf ears as I ran into the hallway and up the stairs. Out of breath, I pushed open the church doors and stumbled out onto the sidewalk. My father paced back and forth like a caged animal, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

He glanced my way with a scowl. Squaring my shoulders, I prepared for the battle that was about to transpire. “Dad.”

“Don’t
dad
me Melody. You’re acting carelessly.”

“I have put a lot of thought into this and…”

“And nothing! The act of marriage should be treated with respect, not as a means to gain citizenship.”

“I know that!”

My father pointed the death stick at me. “Bullshit! Ever since your mother’s death you leap without thinking about the consequences. It’s like you’re
asking
for trouble and I’m sick of waiting by the phone, ready to get the call that you’re injured, or worse, dead.”

Of course it always went back to my career, a career my father despised with every bone in his body. “Compared to getting in a gun fight with rebel fighters in the Congo, marrying Marco is the safest thing I have ever done.”

“Not for your heart, it isn’t.” He sucked in a lungful of imaginary nicotine. “I hope your mother isn’t watching what a complete and utter mess you have made of your life. She would be devastated.”

His words were as sharp as a butcher knife, and they stabbed me right in my gut. Tears welled as I turned on my heels and did what I did best: ran as far away as my legs could take me.

THE BAND AND I WERE
in the middle of a rousing game of would-you-rather when we heard a commotion outside the tour bus.

Ash lifted the blinds on the window and said, “Did any of you idiots invite a woman back here without putting her on the list?”

Noah and I looked at each other. “No.”

We sat on either side of Ash, watching the spectacle unfold. Our security guard was arguing with a woman and by the looks of it, things weren’t going well. She gestured toward the bus, then behind her.

“How long are we going to stare instead of helping?” Ash wondered aloud. The woman hit our security guard in the chest. “Damn, she is fiery. I like fiery.”

“You like anything with tits,” I said.

“Not all tits are equal Sean. Not by a long shot.” He took another look outside. “But that woman has grade A boobage.”

Rolling my eyes, I went to go put a stop to the fight between the hulking giant and Thumbelina. Noah, Ash, and I filed out of the bus and stood, watching. They were so immersed in their quarrel, they didn’t notice our presence.

“I’m her sister! I don’t know where she is. How long—”

Melody had been gone since the morning and it was almost dark. The idea of her alone in an unfamiliar city caused trepidation to coil tightly in my stomach.

“You’re Melody’s sister?”

Her chin jerked toward me. “Finally! Someone who believes me.”

As I stepped forward, the security guard did as well. “It’s fine. You can leave us.”

“Sir…”

“Leave.”

At my order, he retreated.

“Do you want us to leave too?” Ash joked.

I had little time for his antics. We had to find Melody. “When did you last see her?”

Melody’s sister titled her head to the sky as she talked to the heavens. “I knew it was a bad idea to try to force a meeting between Melody and our father. They are both stubborn as mules.” She looked back down at me and grinned. “You’re Sean.”

Their smiles matched, as did their whirlwind emotions. “And you’re…?”

“Jane. It’s nice to meet you.”

We shook hands for less than a second before Ash nudged me aside and cradled her palm in his. “You have gorgeous eyes.”

“Seriously? That’s the best line you can come up with?” She scoffed. “You need to work on your moves, rock star.”

A predatory grin spread across his face. “We can work on them together.”

Jane scoffed again. “God, you’re like a cheesy romance hero come to life.”

Noah and I laughed as Ash’s’ features tightened. He wasn’t used to a woman giving him a dose of his own medicine.

I steered the conversation back on track. “Have you tried calling Melody?”

“No,” she drawled sarcastically. “Only three million times. The bitch isn’t answering.”

“What’s her number?”

“She won’t respond.”

“Let me at least try.”

Jane recited the phone number and I punched it into my cell. Typing a quick message, I pressed send and waited. With the drama done and gone, Noah and Ash returned to their game of would-you-rather on the tour bus. Ash’s feeling on the matter was that Melody was a grown woman who needed some space and we should leave her be, but I couldn’t. She was clearly upset and nursing old wounds without anyone around to help because she was too prideful to ask for it.

My phone buzzed. I swiped the screen to unlock it and took in the small map with a pink dot on it. Melody had sent me her location, which was Harold’s Diner on 35
th
and Lenora.

Jane craned her neck to sneak a peek and laughed. “Of course she is at a diner. Whenever she is upset, she drowns her sorrows with a five-gallon jug of maple syrup.”

I pocketed the device. “Do you want to come?”

“I’m okay, you go—but Sean, be patient with her.”

“I will.”

She shook her head as if I wasn’t catching her drift. “No, really. It takes her heart a while to win the war with her head. Melody is like Mother Teresa, wanting to save the world, but even saints need someone to lift them up when the saving becomes too heavy to carry.”

HAROLD’S DINER WAS SITUATED ACROSS
the street from a funeral home on the outskirts of the city. A worn neon sign that was missing the H in Harold’s blinked lazily. My boots crunched on the gravel leading to the entrance, and when I opened the door, a hot rush of greasy air hit me in the face and a single bell chimed above me, announcing my arrival. The few patrons occupying the vinyl seats didn’t bother looking up from their meals. Melody sat near the back, her hands cradling a white mug. She looked like a lost child.

Her tone was void of its perkiness as she spoke. “You got here fast.”

“As fast I could.”

As I slid into the booth across from hers, a waitress materialized. “What’s it gonna be sugar?”

“Whatever she’s having.”

“An Irish coffee then?”

I gagged. Hot alcohol tasted like gasoline fluid. “Plain coffee and a stack of pancakes, extra syrup.”

At my order, a ghost of a smile floated across her lips. “I love syrup.”

“Your sister told me.”

“Did she come to the tour bus?”

“Hooting and hollering. She and my security guard almost ended up in a scuffle.”

Melody pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sorry. I don’t know how she ended up there.”

“Our location isn’t a secret, hence the security guard.”

“Right. Did she also tell you that she flew to Atlanta, not because she wanted to spend time with her older sister—no—but because she arranged a wedding gown ambush and invited my dad along, my dad who doesn’t approve of my upcoming nuptials or any other choices I have made in my life.” As her eyes lifted, betrayal and hurt lingered in them. “Why would she do that? She knows my father and I aren’t on the best of terms.”

“I can’t speak for your sister, but I’m sure she did it with the good intentions.”

Melody stacked mini creamer packets on top of each other in a makeshift tower and then knocked them down. “She made a mess of things and now I’m not sure if my relationship with my father is fixable after what he said.”

“You can’t take what people say in the heat of the moment as truth.”

“Oh, trust me. My father meant every word when he told me my mother would be devastated by the path I chose in life and that I am basically a royal fuck-up.”

“You aren’t a fuck-up!” I argued, outraged that anyone had made her feel less than what she was. “You’re a talented filmmaker and a loyal friend—”

“But not exactly a loyal girlfriend.” She gulped a heady sip of her Irish coffee. “Maybe my dad is right. Maybe I should have gone to college and become a doctor or lawyer and done the nine-five grind, and had a routine instead of jumping from one continent to the next.”

“You have wanderlust in your blood and even if you’re mother hadn’t died, you still would have picked an unconventional career that allowed you the freedom to explore.”

The waitress set down the plate of pancakes and my coffee. “Enjoy.”

Seeing her eyeing the fluffy stack of carbs with longing, I pushed the plate toward Melody.

“You sure? I don’t want to eat your dinner,” she said.

“Go ahead.”

To be honest, I wasn’t hungry. The band and I had grabbed burgers a couple hours ago. The reason I’d ordered food was to cheer Melody up. Shit, I would have danced to Britney Spears to restore her smile.

She sliced off a piece with the edge of her fork and dipped it into a pool of syrup. “I thought my father would be happy about my rough and tumble job. He always wanted a boy, but since that wasn’t happening he deemed me as the replacement. At the age of eight, I knew how to replace a tire and fix a car engine.”

“My dad was the same way, a real man’s man. His wish for me to enter the army didn’t exactly go as planned.”

“You in the army?” The light returned to her eyes as she laughed. “Can’t see it.”

“Neither could I. Music was the only career I was interested in.”

“How did your father take that news?”

“He told me music wasn’t a career, it was a hobby. But I was determined to prove him wrong and worked that much harder to make my dream a reality.”

A grin as beautiful as the flecks of hazelnut in her eyes flashed across her face. “And you did prove him wrong.”

“I did, although not without some serious sacrifices.” Like my personal life, but I didn’t want to discuss the downsides with Melody. Once her plate was empty, I asked, “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.”

I threw a twenty down and we exited the diner. A blanket of stars twinkled in the sky, illuminating the darkened parking lot.

“I’ll call a cab,” I said, pulling my phone out.

Sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, she leaned back on her hands and tilted her chin upward. A breeze tickled her face. “Let’s wait.”

A truck roared passed and shook the ground. “There are more beautiful places to relax than off the side of a highway.

“It isn’t about the place. It’s about your mindset.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do, so stop ruining my vibe and sit.”

My ass planted next to her on the sidewalk. Taking advantage of her distracted state, I studied Melody’s profile up close and noticed a freckle under her chin. My dick stirred as I wondered where the other freckles on her body were hiding.

“It’s rude to stare, you know?” Melody eyes flickered open and snagged mine. Like a match to a flame, the sparks between us exploded.

My hands curled at my sides as I resisted the temptation to drag my mouth against hers. The ball was in Melody’s court. If she wanted me, then by all means, she could have me.

Her tongue flicked against her bottom lip as if she could already taste me. I bit back a groan. “Will this ever go away?” she asked in a low whisper.

“The heat, the fireworks, the chemistry, the dirty thoughts that enter my mind whenever you are near, like fucking you over the hood of a car while you scream my name?” Melody’s pupils dilated and the desire to do as exactly as I’d described became almost too much to bear. “No, that won’t ever go away.”

“Maybe it’s a craving, and that craving will go away once we indulge.”

“You’re not a craving Melody. You’re a fucking addiction, and once I get a taste of your sweet pussy, there will be no looking back for either of us.”