A Stolen Melody Duet: A Summer Romance Boxset

by K. K. Allen

  “You know what this means, right?”

  He looks at me, his expression filled with dread. “You think?”

  I nod. “I guess we know why my mom was with Crawley in your bedroom the other night. They probably went back there to take it and ended up fucking.”

  Wolf’s face turns red as he realizes I’m right. I’ve got to be. We’ve looked everywhere.

  “Before we keep going down this path, let me talk to Rory and Rex. And Doug, too. They probably put it somewhere to keep it safe.”

  I nod, appreciating Wolf’s calm tone, but I’m not convinced. Still, I’m hopeful as he reaches for his phone and starts dialing. Ten minutes later, my worst fears are confirmed. Doug’s phone rings to voicemail, but no one else has seen my songbook, and Rex made a point of mentioning that damn purse hanging off my mom’s arm when she was escorted off the premises. My heart sinks.

  Wolf looks at me, defeated. “Looks like your mother stole your lyrics. Again. And Crawley is in on it. I wonder how long they’ve been planning this.” He shakes his head. “Shit. Crawley was trying to fuck with your tour contract, too.”

  “What?” I ask, shocked. “No one mentioned anything to me.”

  Wolf growls. “He didn’t get away with it. He was trying to sign the rights of that three-song deal that included ‘Dangerous Heart’ over to him, but someone at Wicked Records caught it. I just found out a few days ago, and with everything else going on I didn’t think to mention it.”

  I watch him pace around the room, speaking his thoughts out loud. “Wow. Somehow Destiny and Crawley bonded over their intention to steal from you. Now we know why they were together.”

  I’m still looking at him as he speaks, but my ears have started to ring and his words are becoming muffled. Rage has possessed me. But with every second that passes, I will myself to regain control, using the strength of Wolf’s eyes to hold my focus. The rage begins to dissolve. The pace of my pounding heart slows, and I’m able to take a deep breath.

  Wolf’s eyes search mine, his determination evident in his hardened expression. “Destiny already hurt you once. I’m not going to let it happen again,” he promises. “Destiny and Crawley won’t get away with this, Lyric. I’ll die before that happens.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wolf

  Lyric doesn’t sleep. She’s restless and rises at least dozen times to go to the bathroom, for no other reason than to get up. I can tell her mind is working a million miles an hour, and it makes my heart ache, but there’s nothing I can do. She’s refusing my comfort. Doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s mad. She cries. But she’s silent.

  When she slides the silky white comforter from her body and leaves our bed for what feels like the hundredth time, I sit up and wait. Her feet barely make a noise as she sneaks across the marble floor, stopping just long enough to shut the door behind her and flip on the light. Even in her despair she’s worried about waking me up.

  After a few minutes of hideous silence in a California King bed that feels far too empty, I stand and follow her tracks across the room. As soon I approach the bathroom, the light through the crack at the bottom of the door fades to black and the door opens to reveal my beautiful, puffy-eyed girl.

  She sees me but avoids eye contact as she tries to move around me, so I step to the side to catch her and wrap my arms around her instead.

  “Not right now,” she pleads.

  This time I don’t listen. I tighten my hold and bury my nose in the long, wavy strands of her sun-kissed brown hair near her ear. Lyric still smells the way she did after her shower, of green apple shampoo and apricot face wash. Sexy and vibrant and good. Just like her. Seeing her like this is like taking a blow to my gut.

  “I promise you, Lyric, we’re going to get your songbook back. If that woman even thinks about stealing another song from you, she’s going to pay for it.”

  Lyric lets out a choked breath, and I pull her even closer. Her weight falls into me, letting me hold her as she plants her face in the crook of my arm and cries. “Why can’t she just leave me alone?”

  My jaw clenches. “She’s sick, Lyric. There’s no use making sense of her actions. I don’t think it’s possible. What I do know is that you’ve got more talent and heart inside you than she’s ever had. It must drive her crazy to have a daughter with more talent in her pinky than she does in her entire body.”

  Lyric shakes her head. “Stop. That can’t possibly be true,” she says, and I hate that she gives her mother this power. “Destiny spent an entire decade in the limelight. She had everything she could possibly want. And then I came along and she acts like I ruined her life just by existing.”

  What do I need to do to convince Lyric of how amazing she is? That her mother is nothing but a washed-up mess who had promise, but zero heart to back it up. Looks and talent can only get you so far in this industry and Destiny’s time ran out. I can’t say any of that to Lyric, because as much as she despises her mom right now, she still loves her. She wouldn’t be crying otherwise.

  “Babe, listen to me.” I lean back and bend at the knees to meet Lyric’s eyes. “Destiny Lane doesn’t deserve your tears. Or your pain. She doesn’t have the first clue what it means to be a decent human being, let alone a mother.” I swallow against the ache in my chest as I watch Lyric’s expression crumble again. “It’s time to focus on what’s best for you. Your career. Your life. Baby, this is your time. Don’t let her take this from you.”

  When she leans into me again and continues to fall apart in my arms, we stay there for a few minutes before I finally lift and carry her to bed. I pull the covers over her and sit beside her while her breathing steadies. Her eyes are still wide open.

  “Do you want me to get you something? To sleep?” I hesitate, because the last thing I want to do is give Lyric a way to shut reality out. But so help me if I let my girl suffer for another second tonight.

  She nods, almost eagerly, so I lift myself from the bed and walk to the bathroom. I search my bags for my Tylenol PM. I rarely have time to sleep on the road, so when there is and my mind is on overload, I take one of these suckers. It kills my energy for a couple days, but a lack of sleep might kill me faster. I grab Lyric a tiny blue pill and a bottle of water from the counter and rejoin her in bed.

  She swallows it down and then pulls me into her arms. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  I kiss the top of her head and let out a breath. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

  It’s two in the afternoon when we break from the studio. It’s supposed to be a two-hour lunch, but I’m not sure if I’m coming back. I tell the guys to record without me if I can’t make it. Mitch has been diligently providing advice and feedback, and since I told him about what happened with Lyric and why she had to skip their lunch, he told me to go check on her and call him later.

  She’s still asleep when I get home, which explains why my dozens of calls and texts went unanswered. I’ve been a wreck all day worrying about her. I lie next to her and stroke her back as I watch her inhale and exhale gently. I think it was four in the morning when she finally drifted off in my arms, and after that pill, she could easily be knocked out for twelve hours.

  When she starts to shift an hour later, I breathe a silent sigh of relief. She moans and rolls over. “How long did I sleep?”

  “About eleven hours.” I smile and stroke her cheek. “Those pills are potent.”

  She groans again. “I was supposed to have lunch with my dad. He probably thinks I blew him off.”

  I kiss her nose. “He knows what happened.”

  “You told him?” she asks, sounding panicked.

  “Lyric,” I say, my shoulders falling in defeat. She can’t be mad about this. “I’m sorry. Mitch was asking where you were, I figured he should know. He’s your father, and he cares about you.”

  She still doesn’t respond, so I continue.

  “He wants to do something about it. He said he’ll call her l
abel and threaten to sue if she does anything with the songs. But he wanted to talk to you about it first.”

  “I can’t think straight right now. Can you just hold me for a minute?”

  “Yeah, babe.” I tighten my hold and watch as she drifts off again.

  A half hour later, I’m standing over the stove, when Lyric walks into the kitchen wearing only a sports bra and panties like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I see my future flash before my eyes as I imagine Lyric barefoot and pregnant in our kitchen, cooking while I try to grope her from behind.

  I want all of that with her. Three months ago, I couldn’t even see myself having a girlfriend. Everything changed when Lyric came into my life. Music had always been my purpose, but Lyric waltzed in and gave substance to it all. My world became brighter, like anything was possible, and the darkness I’d carried with me since my mother’s death four years ago began to fade away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lyric

  The moment I peek my head around the thick, Italian column to peer into the kitchen, my chest swells with emotion. Wolf has never looked sexier than he does in this moment, managing a stainless steel spatula with the same finesse he has holding a guitar. With a flip of his wrist, he pops a thick piece of toast in the air, picks the pan up from the stove, and catches it.

  Not even in my wildest dreams—and I’ve had a few—did I picture Wolf the way I see him now. So … domestic, and wearing nothing but boxer briefs that reveal every cut and swell of his body. I glance around, quickly, confirming what I suspected. No one around. So I untie my robe and let it fall open before continuing my approach to Wolf.

  He must hear me enter because he turns and takes in my attire in one slow sweep. His lips turn up, and when our eyes connect, the heat I feel between us is just as strong as it’s ever been. Maybe even stronger after last night.

  I step forward as he turns back to the steam and sizzle of oil against the pan, such a satisfying sound to my ravenous belly. It’s been starved for way too long.

  “What’s cookin’, good lookin?” I ask teasingly, wrapping my arms around all his sexiness and placing my cheek on his back.

  A deep rumble of laughter vibrates through him as he turns off the burner and tosses a pair of perfectly golden and extra cheesy grilled sandwiches on two plates. My mouth is practically salivating when he turns his body toward me.

  I can see the slight lift of his cheeks as he slides a hand under my chin and searches my expression carefully. It’s in this moment I remember all the ways Wolf made the worst night of my life a little less awful. The respect he showed as he allowed me space to wrestle with my emotions. The loyalty that kept him up every second I stayed awake, as if every ache of my heart was his. The softness in his touch. The gentleness of his words. And the relief he offered when he slipped me that pill.

  I may not be able to move past the horror that recently became our reality, but this time I’m not alone. I have Wolf. And it was Wolf who reminded me last night what I need to focus on right now. Me.

  No words are necessary as he leans in and kisses me hard on the lips. Looks like I’m not the only one who’s starving here. Wolf breathes in through his nose and crushes me against him, holding me at the waist and dipping me back slightly. When his tongue sweeps inside my mouth and he bites down on my bottom lip, I’m ready to let him take me right here.

  To my disappointment, he’s the first to pull away, but he makes up for it when a sweet smile lights up his face and turns my insides soft.

  My nose brushes his playfully before I kiss the tip of it. He growls in response.

  “You need food,” he speaks sternly. “I’m feeding you, and then we’re going to handle your mother and Crawley.”

  I frown at the reminder and bury my head in his chest. “You mean that wasn’t just a bad dream?”

  I look up in time to catch his expression darken. “I’m afraid not. You okay? Last night was rough.”

  Of course I’m not okay. How can I possibly be okay when the person who killed my dreams is playing an unwelcome encore in my life? Reality can be a bitch, and so is Destiny Lane.

  As much as I want to stand here and be strong and tell Wolf the anguish has passed, that would be a total lie.

  “I’ll be fine,” I say.

  But the doubt is clear in Wolf’s expression.

  “Honestly. It’s just … six years ago, I needed her to do the right thing. Because she’s my mom, and I thought I needed that dream version of what I always thought a mom should be. But I just don’t care anymore. All I want is to move on and have my own life.”

  He nods slowly as if he’s thinking about something. “You’re living this life for you.”

  I smile, remembering our first conversation on the rooftop of the Aragon like it was yesterday. “Wise words from a wise little boy.”

  He shakes his head and pulls me close, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Never been anything little about me, doll.”

  I try to stifle my giggle as the cocky man I love with every ounce of my heart glows like he’s just won the lottery. Still, I roll my eyes and watch as his expression grows serious again. “You’re the strongest person I know. Everything is going to work out, babe.”

  I’m about to respond by telling Wolf how much I love and adore for believing in me when my stomach grumbles angrily. On second thought…

  “How about that grilled cheese now?” I ask, moving to the side and checking out the warm sandwiches. “Oh my God.” I moan as I lift both plates from the counter and take them into the dining room. “I don’t think food has ever looked this good. Where’s Alice, anyway? I can’t believe she’s letting you work in her kitchen alone.”

  He chuckles. “She ran to the store.”

  I barely hear him. My mouth is already full.

  By the time Wolf joins me at the table I’ve already downed an entire sandwich. I’m moaning with my last bite as I reach for the other one, but Wolf manages to snatch up half of it before I can get to it.

  “You’re in a weird-happy mood all of a sudden.” He eyes me suspiciously.

  I narrow my eyes back at him. “Weird-happy? Isn’t that some kind of oxymoron?”

  I really do feel okay, and I think he can tell because he smiles and takes a bite of grilled cheese in response.

  “You’re feeding me,” I say thankfully. “And I slept better last night than I’ve slept in a long time.” Just talking about it stirs up unwelcome emotions, but I know better than to hold them back. “I’m pissed, yeah, but there’s nothing I can do about it right now. And I trust you. You said she’s not going to get away with it this time. I have to believe that’s true.” I peer deeply into Wolf’s eyes, determined, but it’s also a plea for help. “I’m not going to let her get away with it again. I’ll do whatever I have to do.”

  There’s admiration in Wolf’s eyes. We both know a week ago I would have shut down and refused to do anything about it, because facing this means potentially facing the spotlight. I’m not sure exactly why I’m okay with finally ending this battle between the child in me who’s always wanted a mother and the me today who knows I’m better off without her, but it feels good. It feels right.

  “Then let’s call your dad.” He watches me as he speaks, as if waiting for me to argue. “If anyone can help guide us through this mess, it’s him,” he adds.

  “Okay,” I say. “I agree.”

  It really is that easy. As much as I’ve pushed back against my father’s previous offers to help, I know he’s the best chance we have of fighting this. With his connections and his reputation in this industry, we could actually get my songbook back.

  We finish our food and shuffle off to the den, which I’ve been using as an office. Wolf sits on the desk chair and pulls me to his lap to call my dad.

  “Hey, Wolf. You called just in time. We’re finishing up at the studio. I think you’ll like what the guys did today, but we’ll need you here all day tomorrow.”

  Huh? I look at Wol
f, wondering what I missed during my sleeping spell. Why is my father in the studio with the band? Wolf glances at me, and I raise my brows an inch in a silent question. What the hell is going on?

  “Yes, sir,” Wolf responds.

  “Why is my father telling you what to do?” I hiss quietly, letting my amusement show through my smile.

  Wolf moves his mouth slightly away from the phone. “Mitch is filling in for Crawley. We asked for some help in the studio. That’s cool, right?”

  My shoulders shake as I laugh quietly. “Yeah, I guess so.” There’s no time to ask more questions, but the thought of my father and Wolf working together on a song I wrote is kind of … amazing.

  “How’s Lyric?” My dad asks next.

  Wolf catches my half-smile and returns it. “I’m here, Dad,” I say, loud enough for him to hear me.

  I can sense my dad’s smile. “Hey, pumpkin.”

  “We wanted to talk to you about Destiny,” Wolf explains.

  There’s shuffling on the other end of the line and a faint cheer that sounds like it’s coming from Wolf’s band. Mitch chuckles. “Sorry about that. The guys are heading out. Can you two meet me downtown? At the Italian place I used to go to with Lyric. I can get us a private room, and we can talk there. How’s eight-thirty sound?”

  Wolf catches my eye, and I nod in agreement.

  “We’ll see you there,” he agrees.

  I’m off Wolf’s lap and heading down the hall to our bedroom before he even hangs up the phone. Not only am I ready to fight for what’s mine and Wolf’s, but I’m ready to fight this battle with my two favorite men.

  On the way to the restaurant, Wolf holds my hand in the backseat, our heads turned in opposite directions. Slow, heavy breaths, air conditioning, and the steady roll of the tires fill the air as we travel down Miami’s side streets. Other than that, all I can hear are my thoughts.