Maybe wasn’t good enough for Maia. She needed a sure thing, and the best place to start the journey to success was with research. “What’s the name of that app?”

  Hours later, having retreated to her bedroom for privacy, Maia had a game plan in place. Her bleary eyes and cramped fingers had amassed a sizeable chunk of information on what made a post or video go viral: heart, humor, truth, an Everyman scenario, a scene that resonated with viewers on a visceral level, whether by engendering outrage, empathy, or a warm and fuzzy feeling. Cross-referencing all those ideals with her most watched on-air interviews during her short tenure at the television station gave her a short list of possible jumping-off spots.

  First step would be a follow-up with Leah Stewart Blackthorne of Fur-Ever Friends Animal Shelter. A gushy story, maybe about a recently adopted pet who’d found a better life after being rescued, would tug at the heartstrings of animal lovers around the globe. An added bonus was the identity of Leah’s husband. Music fans would tune in for news about the band, thanks to the upcoming tour to promote the new album, in the hope of catching a glimpse of the rock star’s iconic face and dreamy eyes beneath those famous sooty curls.

  What were the odds she could convince Leah to include him in their talk? Slim, but if she could come up with a reasonable excuse to get him on video...

  Win/win.

  “First,” she said aloud to her empty bedroom, “let’s see the most recent adoptees on Leah’s website. We’ve got to find the cutest pup or cat ever...”

  She typed the shelter’s name in her search engine, found the link, and clicked on the New Families tab.

  The first picture jolted her upright. That face. That beautiful face. And the eyes. How many times had she stared into those eyes with delight? Even now, she could feel the soft fur she’d stroked hour after hour, hear the joyful bark of a dog who’d caught a ball or chased a squirrel up a tree.

  “Lily!”

  Chapter 2

  The small tour bus Spence borrowed from Wyatt was more like an extended van with a kitchen area, a shower/toilet combo, and an L-shaped table with banquette seating for five on the main level. In the rear, a short set of steps led to a sleeping area with several extra-large-twin-sized beds. Not exactly glamping, but good enough for a man and his dog.

  As Wyatt dangled the keys from his fingers, he listed other various accessories stowed aboard the RV. “...GPS, Wi-Fi, portable generator in case you wind up in a place with no hookup. She drives like a big bus, so take it easy on inclines and don’t overload her towing capacity, or you’ll be paying for a new transmission and spending weeks wheels up while it’s replaced.”

  “Got it.” Spence reached forward but Wyatt pulled back at the last second.

  “Do you have any idea where you’re going?”

  “All over.” He finally grabbed the keyring from Wyatt’s hand. “I’ve mapped out a full cross-country excursion. All dog-friendly stops with activities from hiking to beaches to dog parks to historical and famous tourist sites.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Leah would love that.”

  “You should take her sometime.”

  “Maybe when we do the States leg of the new tour, we can take the big rig and hit a few places, but that won’t be for another five months.”

  “That’s right. Congratulations on the new album. I’ve heard it’s terrific.”

  Wyatt and his bandmates were scheduled to start a worldwide tour to promote their latest release, Wisdom Unleashed, at the end of the month. Europe, Asia, Australia, and then back home for the United States and Canada. Funny how three years ago, he’d never even heard of Wyatt Blackthorne and the Ungrateful. His musical taste had always leaned more toward classical. Now, thanks to Leah, he not only knew all their songs, he could pretty much recite their concert schedule for the upcoming year.

  “Yeah, we’re really proud of it. Which reminds me. I’ve been toying with a new tune. Leah swears you play a mean violin. Any chance you brought your instrument with you today?”

  “It’s in the house, along with the rest of my gear,” Spence replied, jerking his head toward the front door.

  Wyatt snorted an amused breath. “She said you never leave home without it. I wonder if you might be interested in giving it a shot.”

  Spencer blinked. “I’m sorry. Giving what a shot?”

  “This new song,” he clarified with a chuckle. “It’s got this long violin solo in the bridge. Leah’s idea, of course. She insists these particular notes shouldn’t be performed by anything but a violin. Nothing else would give the tune the poignancy I’m looking for. I’d love a chance to see if she’s right. But don’t tell her I said that. If she finds out I doubted her—even for a millisecond—she’ll never let me hear the end of it once I have to agree with her. So, what do you say? Feel like spending a few minutes in the studio with me?”

  “Now?”

  “If you don’t mind. An hour, tops.”

  An hour. How could he say no? The man had just turned over the keys to a vehicle worth tens of thousands of dollars without blinking an eye. Lily was inside the house with Leah, perfectly content to sit on one of the many fluffy dog beds that lined the living room. Antsy as he was to hit the road and start this big adventure with her, good manners prevented him from turning down the invitation. Besides, how often did a musician get the opportunity to jam with the one and only Wyatt Blackthorne?

  “Sure. Why not?”

  Wyatt clapped his shoulder. “Great. Come on. Grab your violin and let’s go.”

  Pocketing the keys to the RV, Spence followed Wyatt into the house.

  Lily, as he’d figured, lay curled up atop a large pillowy dog bed, snoozing. She really was the sweetest pooch.

  At the slap of the door, Leah appeared in the foyer. “Oh, good. Wy talked you into trying the song. I was hoping you’d agree. Listen, Spence, don’t just play the song. I need you to feel it. And be brutally honest. Tell him what works, what doesn’t, what you like, what you hate. I value your input—”

  “Enough, Leah,” Wyatt growled. “Stop using your charm to get him on your side.”

  She planted her hands on her hips and tossed her head back. “I don’t need to use charm. He’ll hear it for himself. The song is brilliant, but it needs a violin solo. Not a fiddle, not a sax. A classical violin played by a classically trained violinist. Oh! And by the way, I’m thinking that same violin solo should open the song.”

  “You’re killing me,” he retorted with an exaggerated sigh.

  The couple’s amusing banter only sharpened Spence’s curiosity. Why did he have the sinking suspicion these two were setting him up somehow? The amused glint in Wyatt’s eyes? The smile quirking Leah’s lips? The lilt they both used in their mock argument? The entire act—and it was an act—seemed staged for his benefit.

  Before he could voice an argument, Wyatt directed him toward a door he’d opened to reveal a descending staircase. “This way.” Violin case in hand, Spence headed down and heard Wyatt order Leah in that same humorous tone, “You stay here, sweetheart. I don’t want any more of your influence on him ‘til he’s played the piece.”

  At the bottom, another door opened into a full-fledged recording studio setup. Spence drank in the sight with wonder—this amazing area where Wyatt and his bandmates, the Ungrateful, created musical magic. Incredible. Acoustic tiles lined the walls, several microphones on stands chest-high stood sentinel. The computer and DAW were the latest technology, and each instrument in the room from drum set to keyboards and several guitars had a corresponding headset ready to slip on.

  “Make yourself comfortable.” Wyatt gestured to various styles of chairs: cushy loveseats with throw pillows in one corner, an oversized beanbag in another, and several backless wooden stools in the foreground.

  Choosing one of the stools, Spence placed his violin case in his lap and flipped the locks. The resounding twin clicks erupted like a gunshot in the sound-proofed space. While he removed his instrument and bow, Wyatt grabbed a music stand and set it in front of him.

  “Good?”

  Spence took a look at the sheet music titled, Rich Man, Poor Woman and nodded.

  “We’ve got lyrics, but you won’t need them for this,” Wyatt said, taking a similar seat across from him. “All that’s important to know about the song is it’s about someone watching the woman he loves fall for the wrong guy. It’s what Leah calls, ‘poignant.’ I say it’s more unrequited, jealous love. Make sense?”

  Spence gave another nod and let his fingers trace the musical notes on the page, hearing the melody in his head. His musical mind stumbled at one point, and he looked up from the staff. “Got a pen?”

  Wyatt’s forehead furrowed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, really. I want to try something a little different if that’s okay with you. Just a changeup. Any objections?”

  Wyatt waved a hand. “Have at it, dude. Leah said I had to trust your instincts. You do you.” He turned to the table where the computer setup reigned, picked up a black marker, and tossed it at Spencer’s chest. “Knock yourself out.”

  Spence made a few adjustments to the notes, and Wyatt slid the strap of his guitar over his shoulder.

  “Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll bring you in from the second stanza. D-minor okay?”

  “Sure.” Spence listened to Wyatt’s guitar, following along with the sheet music.

  At the precise moment indicated, he pulled the bow across the strings and immediately got lost. From the first note, he was enveloped in the melody, the emotion of the saddest key in pop music playing a haunting homage to a love never realized. When he reached the change he’d written, his bow practically shouted across the strings, bringing a heavy resentment to the mood inside the room. Wyatt, God-love-him, followed along, picking up what Spence had thrown down, strumming angrily at the unfairness of it all. At last, they eased back into melancholy, allowing the last few notes to fade away.

  Spence dropped the violin from his shoulder. “Well?”

  Wyatt leaned over his guitar and swore softly under his breath.

  “What?” Spence pressed. “You didn’t like it?”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Dude. It was perfect. I’m just dreading how long Leah’s going to gloat when I admit it to her.”

  “Well, good, I guess.”

  “Let’s play that one more time,” Wyatt said, getting to his feet. “This time, though, I want to record it for the boys.”

  Oh, for God’s sake. He really wanted to hit the road before the traffic got out of control. Another glance around the studio confirmed what his memory had already registered earlier: no clocks in here. No distractions of any kind. Smart. But inconvenient at the moment.

  Biting back his impatience, he picked up his violin. “Sure. Your version or mine?”

  “Yours. Definitely yours.”

  They ran through the song again, and Spence had to admit the second time sounded even better than the first.

  Once they finished, while Wyatt fiddled with the computer, Spence got to his feet. “That’s it? We’re done?”

  “For now, yes,” Wyatt replied, still focused on the recording equipment. “Thanks.”

  His tongue wanted to ask what the “for now” comment meant, but his brain chided him to just go. Get out before the time got any later.

  “Okay. Great. Happy to help. I’m gonna grab Lily and head out then. Thanks again for the RV.”

  “Yeah, sure. Safe trip.”

  Apparently, Wyatt was too absorbed in the mechanics of their jam session to speak in more than one syllable words. Spence took that as his cue to pick up his violin case and scram.

  Upstairs, Leah stood on the other side of the door, hands clasped in front of her midriff. “Well?”

  “I’ll let Wyatt tell you the details.”

  “Ha!” she crowed. “I knew it.”

  Their marital relationship baffled him, but who was he to judge? Right now, all he wanted was to get out of the house and be on his way. Bending, he planted a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Leah. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Make sure,” she said with a hug. “Keep me posted on how you’re both doing.”

  “I will. I promise.” He strolled to the living room and grabbed the leash on the hook on the wall, slipped his backpack on his shoulders, the duffle in his other hand, then patted his thigh. “Come on, Lily. Time to go.”

  The pooch rose slowly, stretched, and pattered toward where Spence waited. After he clipped her leash to her collar, he offered Leah one last nod. “Okay. I guess we’re out of here.”

  Leah followed them to the front door and opened it. He was still looking at her when he stepped outside. With a quick jerk, Lily bolted, slipping her collar with a sharp shake of her head and nearly yanking Spence’s arm from the socket. What the—

  “Lily!” he shouted, chasing after her, and swore he heard the dog’s name echo in the twilight.

  It took a full minute for Spence to see the woman crouched beneath the decorative lamppost a few yards away, her arms flung wide open as she repeated, “Lily!”

  Lily slipped her collar from the man at the end of the leash and raced forward at lightning speed. The force of their reunion knocked Maia to the cold lawn with a hard bump, but neither of them cared.

  She buried her face in the soft fur and hugged her dog to her chest. “Oh, baby, I’ve missed you soooo much!”

  “Umm... can I help you?”

  Still cradling Lily, Maia glanced up at the man haloed beneath the beam of light. Dressed in a hunter green fleece pullover and jeans, he inched closer, the leash with its attached collar dangling like a noose from his hand.

  Before answering, she reached out to take the collar and clasp it into place around the dog’s neck. “There you go, baby. Now, stay.” She held her hand out flat as she got to her feet. “Stay.”

  Lily hunkered into a sitting position and remained still.

  Maia turned her attention to the man again. Time to weave her long-winded story.

  “Sorry. I haven’t seen her in over two years, and I guess we both got excited. I’m Maia. Maia Gardner. Lily is—was—my dog.” As if to confirm her statement, Lily licked her hand. His eyes narrowed, and she hurried to add, “Leah told me you were here.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “She and Wyatt had you stick around, so I’d have a chance to catch up with Lily before you left.”

  “Son of a—” Censoring himself, he let his gaze fly to the front door, which was sealed closed now.

  Leah had promised she wouldn’t get involved between the two of them but would only allow her this slim window to plead her case.

  Spence is a good guy, she’d told Maia. I promise you Lily is in the best of hands with him. But if you want to be sure for yourself, I can only buy you a few minutes’ time.

  The rest was on Maia.

  “Lucky for both of us I was a mere twenty-five minutes away,” she told this Spence person now. “You know, if you’d stopped at one song or Wyatt hadn’t taken so much time with you down there, you might have beaten me out of town.”

  If she were the sensitive type, she’d be hurt by the look of disappointment that crossed his face. Living with Teddy for a few years had hardened her to casual insults. Now, she didn’t much care what anyone thought about her—except her employer—and look how lousy that had turned out. Of course, she’d cared what her viewers thought of her, and would again. Eventually.

  He folded his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

  “For starters, I wanted to see Lily. When I spotted her on Leah’s website, I was horrified. I left her with my ex-husband after our divorce. I should’ve known the minute things got tough the rat would dump her someplace.”

  “You can’t have her back.”

  He couldn’t have hurt Maia more if he’d slammed a wrecking ball into her chest, but she pulled herself rigid and replied, “You’re right. I can’t. I just lost my job and if I don’t come up with rent money in the next few weeks, I’ll be homeless, as well. I’m in no situation to take on Lily’s care right now. It’s why I left her with Teddy in the first place. But knowing what a huge lapse in judgment I made there, I insisted I needed to meet you, to... I don’t know... give you any pointers on her personality, tricks she knows, stuff she hates. She was my dog for ten years, since she was eight weeks old. I raised her, trained her, and took care of her. I know her better than anyone. Was there anything you wanted to learn about her? Has she given you any trouble? She’s a good girl, but I know she can be stubborn.” Maia softened the insult by ruffling the dog’s head between her ears.

  “You followed me here to make sure I’m not going to dump her in another shelter the minute things get tough for me. Right?”

  Maia sucked in her breath. “Wow. Harsh.” This guy didn’t pull his punches. “Okay, yeah. You’re right. I wanted to see Lily, make sure she was okay, see how much this myelopathy was affecting her, but I also needed to size you up.”

  “Size me up.”

  His face remained impassive, almost robotic, which was a shame, because if he’d bothered to show any emotion, he might actually be attractive. Regardless. This wasn’t a date; this was an assessment. Better he realized where he stood with her right from the start.

  “Yes. Leah told me I could trust you, that you’d never hurt Lily, and that if she got to be too much for you to handle, you promised to bring her straight back to Fur-Ever Friends. She said it’s in the contract you signed with her.”

  “So, then you really didn’t need to come here to size me up, did you?”

  “I told you, I wanted to see Lily. And you. Together. I made two mistakes with Teddy.”

  “Two?”

  “Yeah. First, I married him. Then, when I’d had enough of his insults and belittling comments and left his sorry ass, I didn’t take Lily with me. I’m not about to repeat those offenses where you’re concerned. Not when we’re talking about my dog’s care.”

  “My dog.”

  “Fine. Your dog.” Her voice choked on a glob of unshed tears. To hide her stress-filled emotions, she knelt on the cold ground to bury her face in Lily’s soft fur.

 

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