Memory of a Melody

by Charli B. Rose

  “He sent his goons after me to send you a message?” I asked, the pieces falling into place.

  “Yeah. He got impatient. He wanted to remind me to deliver. If we don’t get married and the deal doesn’t go through … he’s going to kill me.” Fear filled his eyes.

  “How much do you owe him?” I asked, needing to know.

  “Half a million,” he whispered.

  “Crap … I know you’re worried, but I still can’t marry you. I’m sure your parents will help you if you just tell them the truth,” I offered.

  His head dipped lower. “I stole money from the company. The board will probably vote me out. Mom and Dad will be so disappointed.”

  “Yeah, they will. But you’re a grown man. You need to own your mistakes. All of them,” I lectured.

  “You’re right.” He lifted his head and gazed into my face. “I’m sorry for making you think you cheated on me. You aren’t that kind of person.” He shook his head sadly. “I didn’t think I’d ever be that kind of person. For what it’s worth, Bridgette was the only one. And I didn’t set out to cheat.” He stood up. “I’ll go tell our friends and family what’s going on. Maybe one day you can forgive me.” He walked away, and I let him.

  32

  Trystan

  I’d been staring at the corridor leading to the closed doors where the wedding was supposed to take place for what felt like forever. Eventually, two older women, who were crying, passed by. I continued to wait, praying Willa would come.

  “What are you doing here?” Cade asked, his voice a mixture of anger and agony.

  I raised to my full height, not wanting Cade to tower over me. “I’m here to make sure Willa knows the truth. She shouldn’t marry a man who betrayed her without being able to choose to do that for herself.”

  “You think you’re better than me because you’re good and wholesome?” he scoffed. “Well, you can’t take care of her like she’s used to. I was moving her into a penthouse. You live on the other side of the city in a tiny apartment. What can you give her? You’re just a mechanic with a guitar.” He looked so self-righteous and smug.

  I couldn’t take it. I punched him without thinking. The crunch of his nose was satisfying, but I didn’t take the time to revel in his pain. I headed in the direction he’d come from. I needed to find Willa.

  Halfway up the stairs, I faltered. Cade was right. I was just a mechanic with a guitar. I’d turned down a lucrative recording contract. I might never have another opportunity like that. There was no way I could give Willa what she deserved.

  I spun around and descended the stairs. Cade was nowhere to be found. I marched out the front door without looking back.

  I’d almost had it all—the music career, a way to help my family, love.

  I hotfooted it down a few blocks to the subway station. As fortune would have it, I was able to hop right on the one I needed. In my pocket, my phone continued to buzz. A glance at the screen said there were a lot of texts and voicemails waiting for me. I didn’t have it in me to listen to them, so I shut off my phone. I definitely didn’t want to talk to Mack about throwing away our future for the sake of truth and love.

  When I finally got home, I collapsed face down on the couch to wallow in my misery. And that’s where I was a couple of hours later when a knock sounded on my door. I supposed my time being able to ignore the rest of the world was over.

  Dejected, I shuffled over and twisted the knob without thinking. There stood Willa, a vision in white.

  She flung herself at me, crying. Instinctively, I caught her, and my heart settled back in place in my chest. The fabric of her dress rustled as I crushed her closer to me.

  “I remember. I remember everything. I remember you.” She cupped my cheek.

  ♪ I Choose You by Sara Bareilles

  Tears gathered in my eyes as I gazed adoringly at her.

  “It was your song. It made me remember. I was there when you started writing it,” she whispered in a trembly voice.

  “You’re the reason I wrote it. It’s your song, princess” I confessed, tightening my hands on her waist.

  Unable to resist the tug any longer, I crushed my mouth to hers. I was finally able to breathe again. I felt like I’d been living on partial breaths ever since Willa was attacked. Her kiss injected life into my dying soul.

  I tried to press her closer to me, but her dress was in the way. I started gathering bits of fabric in my fists, trying to find flesh. Her lips left mine so she could add her hands to the mix of dealing with all the satin and lace.

  She giggled at the futility of it. “The zipper’s in the back.” She twirled around.

  With fumbling fingers, I found the hidden zipper and eased it down her back, revealing flesh and a strapless bra. “I always imagined only taking a wedding gown off my bride on our wedding day,” I muttered.

  “If it’s any consolation, I hate this dress, and today wasn’t my wedding day. It’s just a dress.” With a shuffle of her feet, she was back facing me. Her fingers slid beneath the fabric still resting on her shoulders and nudged it aside. Soon she was standing in a heap of white lace, beads and satin.

  “Just a dress,” I murmured in agreement. Gently, I grasped her waist and lifted her over the mountain of a dress.

  When I set her back on her feet, I stepped back so I could revel in her beauty for a moment. Willa’s hair hung in loose waves around her face, cascading down over her shoulders. The white panel of fabric encircling her chest hid her breasts from me, but I remembered how they looked bare. Her arms crossed behind her back, probably to keep from covering herself up under the intensity of my gaze. As my vision slipped lower, her weight shifted from foot to foot.

  The wisp of bridal white around her hips and covering her core made all the moisture evaporate from my mouth. When Willa picked out these undergarments, they were meant for someone else’s eyes … someone else’s pleasure. I pushed those thoughts away and gathered her to me.

  Her body sagged against mine. “I’m so sorry I forgot you. Forgot us … Love me. Please,” she whispered, her voice shaking with vulnerability.

  ♪ Feel Like Makin’ Love by Bad Company

  Words jammed in my throat, unable to get past all the emotion welling up in me like a geyser ready to explode. I decided to forgo spoken language to show her I forgave her. I’d do what she asked for. Love her.

  I scooped her up in my arms and strode with purpose down the short hallway to my bedroom. My gaze darted around the space. Discarded clothes were in the corner. My guitar leaned against the chair by the window. An empty water bottle set on the nightstand. But I couldn’t bring myself to care about the mess, not when Willa was here in my arms.

  Like the precious being she was, I eased her onto the bed. I stripped out of my clothes at a record pace. Once I was bare, I leaned forward and slipped Willa’s heels off her feet. “Are these the death trap shoes?” I asked with a chuckle.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

  I tossed them across the room, making her giggle. Then I stood at the foot of the bed, completely enraptured by the woman stretched out across my mattress.

  “What’s wrong?” Willa asked when I’d remained frozen for too long.

  “I feel like I need to pinch myself to make sure you’re not just a dream or a figment of my imagination,” I admitted.

  “I have a better way to convince you than a pinch,” she teased. She propped herself up on her elbows. The pose was innocent and seductive, and my cock definitely took notice.

  I eased myself onto the bed, anxious to make my fantasy a reality. Willa sat all the way up, meeting me halfway. Her soft touch traced along the tattoo on my chest.

  She leaned forward and kissed the black lines. “I dreamed about this.”

  “You did?” I asked, astounded.

  “Yeah. I couldn’t see your face. But I heard you. You called me princess. And I felt you. Felt your touch. Breathed our passion. It was amazing.”

  Her words ignited so
mething deep inside me. Even when she’d forgotten who we were to each other, she hadn’t really.

  “But now that I have my memories back, I know my dream, as good as it was, was a still a poor imitation of reality. I’m ready for the reality of us again. I’ve missed you, Trystan. Even when I didn’t know exactly why.” She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra. The material dropped to her lap. Her fingers slipped to the ribbons on one hip and untied the bow. I watched dazed as she repeated the action on the other side. Then the slip of white was gone with a flick of her wrist.

  With a growl, I pounced, kissing her with every bit of pent-up longing I’d had to deny for so long. Her fingers threaded through my hair, anchoring our mouths to each other’s. My hands wandered down her back, scooting her closer to me. I let my fingers drift around to cup her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, little points. Gently, I tweaked them, making her groan into my mouth.

  Her hand began to drift down my abdomen until she gripped my aching dick. When she fisted it, my hips jutted forward instinctively. She rose up tall on her knees and shifted forward. My hand dipped between her legs, finding her damp slit. I stroked her wet flesh, spreading her arousal and making her squirm.

  Tenderly, I eased her onto her back. I sat up, peering down at her flushed skin and rapidly expanding chest. I began to shimmy down the mattress so I could make a meal out of her. Once I was in position, I barely got a couple of good swipes in before she gripped my hair and rasped out, “I need you. Now.”

  I was torn between making her fall apart first and granting her request.

  “Please, Trystan.”

  Those two words erased my indecision. I hastily slipped on a condom and positioned myself at her entrance. With our stares locked on each other, I sank inside her slowly.

  When I was fully inside, she whispered, “I’ve been feeling so incomplete the past little while without my memories. But it wasn’t my missing memories that were making me feel that way. It was not having you.”

  “Princess, I was lost without you too. I never knew things could be like this.” I cradled her head between my palms and began to move at a pace that was maddening but perfect.

  So much love stared back at me. This moment with her was exactly what I’d been imagining every day since she last walked out of my apartment.

  ♪ It’s You by Lewis Brice

  33

  Willa

  The sun had set when my eyes opened awhile later, and like last time, Trystan wasn’t in bed next to me. This morning when I woke up and started getting ready for my wedding, I never imagined it would end with me naked in another man’s bed … and happy about it.

  I stretched languidly, smiling at the slight ache in my thighs.

  Music drifted in from the living room, making me smile. I scooted off the bed and grabbed a discarded shirt from the chair in the corner. When I held it up, I grinned at the faded Aerosmith logo. I lifted it to my nose and inhaled the spicy scent of Trystan. I slipped it over my head and tugged my hair free of the neck.

  I sashayed into the living room like a woman only mildly sated and yearning for more. Trystan peeked up at me as soon as my feet touched the carpet. Hunger filled his eyes instantly.

  Shyness overtook me. I crossed one foot behind the other and clutched at the hem of the shirt hanging on my frame. “I borrowed your shirt. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “I’d prefer you naked. But my shirt is certainly better than the wedding dress you bought to marry someone else in,” he remarked with a smirk, continuing to pluck the strings of the guitar in his lap.

  “Yeah, I didn’t quite think out the whole clothing situation when I caught a cab all the way over here from the venue in my dress,” I said with a shrug.

  “I don’t care what you showed up in just as long as you came. Wait, I take that back. I would’ve been devastated if you’d shown up with his wedding band on your finger. But I think I would’ve figured out a way past that as long as you were staying.”

  “Working on a new song?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Seems my muse awakened some new melodies that insisted on coming out now. But now that you’re awake, we can make new music together.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

  A blush heated my cheeks.

  “Come here, princess,” he growled and set his guitar to the side.

  Gingerly, I made my way over to him.

  Concern furrowed his brow and clouded his eyes. “Are you OK? I completely forgot about your ribs.” His palm slapped against his forehead.

  I quickened my pace, eating up the distance between us. Gripping his wrists, I tugged his hands from where they covered his face. I dropped to my knees between his. “I’m fine. My ribs are fine. They only hurt a little these days. And the soreness in my muscles is the good kind. The kind that reminds me what we did a couple of hours ago. Makes me want more.”

  As if I was made of glass, Trystan lifted me from the floor and settled me across his sweatpants-clad lap. “So my princess is ready for me to worship her some more? I’m quite ready to pay homage.” His fingers crept beneath the hem of the shirt I wore, seeking out my dampening core.

  My hips jerked involuntarily into his touch. I was like a fire starving for oxygen, and his touch opened the window to let the air in. An inferno spread across my cells, singeing everything in its path.

  Though Trystan and I were relatively new to each other in the grand scheme of things, he knew just how to touch me to make me see stars. With a few concentrated swipes, I was writhing in his lap, desperately pursuing release. “Trystan,” I panted.

  I didn’t have to say more. He knew what I needed, and he gave it to me. And then some.

  As I regained my senses, I became aware of his hardness beneath me. Before I could free him from his pants, my stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. I buried my face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. His body shook with laughter under me. “Worked up an appetite, princess?”

  I nodded, not lifting my head from the safe haven of his body.

  “You want a snack or dinner?” his words rumbled in my ear.

  I was ravenous. I hadn’t eaten all day except for a piece of toast when I woke up this morning. “Dinner. I’ve only had toast today. My nerves were too out of sorts to eat earlier.”

  He stroked his hand down my spine. “I can cook something if you want. Or we can get dressed and go somewhere. Or I can have something delivered.”

  Cooking would mean letting him off the couch. Going out would mean putting on clothes. The decision was a no-brainer. “Delivery. Now that I’ve found you again, I’m not ready to leave the circle of your arms. Not even for sustenance.”

  ♪ Now that I Found You by Michael Bolton

  “I think I can turn those words into a song,” he teased. Trystan stood, keeping me in his arms, and strode to the kitchen island to grab his cell. Then he carried me back to the couch. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Japanese,” I said without thought.

  He tapped on his screen, navigating to the menu of the closest Japanese restaurant. With our heads close together, we perused the menu until we settled on hibachi steak and chicken with a side of noodles plus extra white sauce.

  The two of us cuddled on the couch and watched an episode of Vampire Diaries while we waited for dinner to arrive. By the time the episode was half over, he was leaning forward, lost in the story of two brothers who’d ultimately fall in love with the same girl. When the delivery guy knocked on the door, Trystan paused the TV so he wouldn’t miss anything while we ate dinner.

  We talked about everything and nothing. It was perfect. As we worked together putting away the leftovers, Trystan turned to me.

  “Since your memories are back, do you remember the attack?” he asked cautiously.

  “I remember waving up at you and then signaling a cab down the street. And then I heard footsteps behind me. But before I could turn to see what was going on, someone snatched my purse. I yelled at him. And then I was fal
ling. I closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them again, you were there, and I knew everything would be all right.” I shuddered, recalling it now.

  “Did you see the guys who tried to take your purse?” he asked.

  “It was fast, but one of them had a tattoo or something on his neck.”

  “Now that you remember a little of what happened, the police will want to talk to you again.” Trystan stacked the sealed food containers in the fridge.

  “Should we call them now?” I asked.

  “I’ll take you to the precinct in the morning. Tonight is just for us.”

  The next morning, Trystan ran out to get us breakfast while I took care of something I couldn’t delay longer.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said into my phone. Guilt froze my tongue in my mouth.

  “Sweetie, how are you feeling this morning?” Mom asked cautiously.

  “Honestly, I feel great. But I’m sorry about you and Daddy losing all that money for the wedding. I’ll pay you back out of my trust fund,” I offered as I paced around the kitchen.

  “Nonsense,” Mom said. “Your dad and I would give up all our money in exchange for your happiness. And if Cade really made you happy and you could forgive his indiscretions, we’d forgive him as well. But, honey, you seemed … relieved yesterday.”

  I thought about her words. “You’re right. I was relieved. And I know this probably makes me sound like a terrible person, but even before I walked in on him with another woman, something didn’t feel the same in my heart anymore. I chalked it up to wedding stress. But now, I think it was more than that. I think deep inside I knew I wasn’t supposed to marry him.” I sank into the corner of the couch and tugged a throw pillow onto my lap to hug.