My UnTrue Love (A Kinda Fairytale #7)

Chapter Thirteen

Three faces watched the cy’ote there,

Knowing why he’d come,

His selfish desires all laid bare,

So now she’d have some fun.

Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”

While she waited for Bill to take the stage, Clem glanced around the interior of the Lone Prairie. It was about half-filled with a rowdy crowd. She only hoped they didn’t disrupt Bill’s performance, because she wanted him to have a drama-free show. It would help build his confidence going forward.

And he was going forward. With her.

Clementine and Bill, for all of ever-after.

She raised a hand to her lips, still feeling the phantom taste of his mouth against hers. She had never been kissed like that before. Maybe it really was the spell reacting to Bill’s off-the-charts artistic brilliance. Maybe it was a sign their partnership was going to be epic, with no doors between them.

Or maybe the man was just a really great kisser.

Was it wrong that she kind of hoped for that last possibility?

She wanted Luke to be right. She wanted Bill to want her. She wanted him to kiss her, because he was swept away with desire. She wanted him to fall in love with her and propose. She wanted to have incredible honeymoon sex somewhere scandalous, because he simply couldn’t wait to have his beautiful hands all over her.

Her nose wrinkled. Maybe she should entice him into a date, before they got to all that. Kind of get him used to the idea of their inevitable couplehood. That seemed like a good way to ease him into the rest of their happy future.

Clem stood by the bar, nursing her lemonade and plotting how to chase her cowboy. She would’ve preferred a margarita, but she knew better than to order one where Bill would find out about it. He took her doctor’s warnings about salt interfering with her medicine super-seriously. At least no one was smoking. Although it was more because the management worried about the ratty building catching fire, rather than any health concerns, Bill would still be pleased.

The show was on a break between acts, which meant the houselights were brighter. It gave her a clear view of the figure by the door.

Holy moly!

Her mind raced for a beat and then she leaned across the rickety bar so far that her feet left the floor. “Harry! Psst! Harry!”

He finished serving a hard-drinking cowboy and headed over to her, ignoring the other patrons trying to get his attention. “Problem, doll?”

Harry was a sasquatch with a real eye for hair design. He only worked as a bartender to pay his way through beauty school. His fur was styled into a dazzling array of purple spikes. Clementine had told him how wonderfully artistic he looked and now they were like old friends. She’d known him for about an hour and she’d already seen pictures of his gorgeous boyfriend and the precious one-eared cat they were planning to adopt.

“Can you do me a favor?” She asked him in a stage whisper.

He leaned closer to hear her over the din. “You know it.”

“Hijack whatever food is ready and put it on my tab. Then, casually bring the plate to my table and say ‘On the house’.”

He arched a bushy brow in confusion.

Her eyes pointedly traveled towards the too-skinny kid, who was standing as far out of the way as he could get, with his back to the wall and arms crossed tight against his chest.

Harry followed her gaze. “Are you starting a collection of coyotes?”

“I’ve only got two and they’re both very talented. That one,” she tilted her head in Luke’s direction, “is a down-on-his-luck teenager. Help me get some food into him, okay?”

Harry sighed in reluctant agreement.

She mouthed “thank you” and headed for Luke. A muse’s work was never done. “Hey, neighbor.” She called, as if she’d been waiting for him to show up.

He stiffened. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to notice his presence. Joke’s on him, because he was hard to miss. He was extremely tall, had that arresting silvery hair, and he was the youngest person in the saloon. The yellow wristband on his hand designated him as underage.

“Come sit with me.” She told Luke. “I could use a friendly face to keep me company.”

He shot her a look, like she’d just insulted him with the word “friendly”.

She smiled. “Don’t worry. No one will know you’re secretly a gregarious charmer, who loves to hang out with me. If anybody asks, we’ll pretend that I kidnapped you.”

“Why would you kidnap me?” Luke scoffed. “ How could you kidnap me? You’re tiny.”

“My God,” Clem laid a hand over her heart, “I’m going to adopt you if you keep saying such sweet things.” She grabbed hold of his arm, dragging him along and ignoring the way he stiffened.

“You shouldn’t do that.” He sounded serious. “Your --uh-- room mate won’t like you touching another guy. It messes with the scent.”

“What scent…? Oh, wait. That’s right. You said I smell like Bill.” She shrugged. “I have to tell you, that makes me think maybe I’m wasting my money on that shower gel. It must have no staying power on my skin, if I don’t smell like delicious sugared blueberries.”

Luke allowed Clem to herd him along. He towered over her, so he certainly could have broken free of her hold if he wanted to. At least that’s what she told herself, because he didn’t look eager to be joining her. Pale-brown eyes swept over every person who walked by, watchful and menacing. Not the best for successful mingling, but great for opening up a table. The three goblins sitting there took off at the sight of a surly teenager headed their way. It was better than an ox-dozer.

Clem quickly snatched up their seats. “Perfect! Front and center.” She gestured to the chair across from her.

Luke stood there, uncomfortable. “I don’t want to…”

“Sit!”Clem ordered.

Luke sat. Well, “slouched” would probably be more accurate. He flopped down, his body sliding lower in the chair and his arms crossed against his chest again. “This is dumb.” He muttered, and she had the feeling he was talking to himself.

“Live music is never ‘dumb.’ It’s the purest form of art. Extemporaneous, but requiring long hours and incredible skill. Ephemeral, but it changes you forever. Traditional, but never, ever the same.”

Luke snorted, as if he didn’t feel any of that. Clem knew better. “I can’t stay long.” He told her. “I’m real busy.”

“Just until you hear Bill play. He’s got a lot of talent.”

“You think everybody’s got talent.”

“I’m a muse. I told you that, right?”

Luke grunted and the sound reminded her of Bill. Most of his attention was engaged in scanning the saloon for enemies. He didn’t like sitting in the middle of the room. She could tell it made him antsy, because he couldn’t watch all four directions at once.

“I can sense when someone has the making of a star.” Clem went on. “It’s part of my magic. I knew from the first time he strummed his guitar that Bill was a star.”

“Is that why you dote on him?”

Did she “dote”? That was a little embarrassing.

“No, Bill and I became friends when he joined The Yellow Roses. That’s the band I helped found. Then Johnny fired me,” she paused, “Johnny is the former best friend, I was telling you about. At least, I thought he was my best friend.” She frowned. “I’m not sure that I was ever his, though.”

“You should’ve expected that he’d screw you over.” Luke opined. “Everybody’s just out for what they can get.” His face twisted in some inexplicable mix of disapproval and grudging fondness. “Except maybe you. You’re too nice to understand things.”

Clementine decided to take that as a compliment. “Anyway, Bill quit the band too, out of loyalty to me. He’s just amazingly amazing.” She sighed in dreamy wonder. “…Sorry, what was I saying? Oh, right! So, anyway, music brought us together, but I don’t like him because he’s a star. I like him because he’s Bill and Bill is amazing.”

Luke didn’t look encouraged by that news. “Amazing.” He sighed, scanning for threats at the nearby tables. “If he’s such a star, how come he’s playing in this crappy place?”

“Everybody has to start somewhere. I really wanted him to play at The Kitchen, which is a much fancier saloon. But Dinah --my grandmother was her muse and now she owns The Kitchen-- she and Bill got into a bit of a tiff, because they’re both so stubborn. Especially, Dinah.” She frowned. “I think that’s why their love affair didn’t last.”

Luke continued looking for dangerous desperados. “Bill and that Dinah lady had a love affair? I told you he was fucking around on you.”

“No!” She laughed. “Dinah and my grandmother had a love affair. At least that’s my theory. Grandma was a widow, at the time. They were both women of stormy passion, so they butted heads too much for their romance to last.” She paused. “What’s your opinion on the ethics of a muse and her artist having a love affair? Be honest.”

“I honestly don’t care.”

“I think it’s ethical.” Clementine decided firmly. “I’ve considered the question a lot lately and I think it’s very, very ethical.”

“Okay. Still don’t care.”

That settled, Clementine refocused on helping the boy. “You could be a star, too. Just like Bill. I hear it in your music.”

Those extraordinary eyes swung back to meet hers in astonishment.

“You love playing.” It wasn’t a question, because she knew the answer. “If you have the passion and energy to pursue music as a career, you have the talent to get you to the very top.”

He gave his head a quick shake. Clementine wasn’t surprised. It took a lot of faith to dream. If Luke didn’t have that kind of belief in himself yet, she’d have it for him.

The house lights dimmed, and Bill came on stage, and Clem forgot everything else.

He looked amazing in blue.

Clementine would’ve said it was the only color he should ever wear, except he looked amazing in every other color, too. The man was like a chameleon of hotness. Every color of the rainbow was his perfect shade.

Then, he started to play and she was swept up in the music. Her eyes stayed riveted to the stage, where Bill and an acoustic guitar owned the spotlight. Wild Horses Run fit his style, and he seemed to like it well enough, but she could tell his whole heart wasn’t in the tune.

And still the entire room went quiet.

Something about the way he performed captured everyone. There had been a dozen other musicians tonight. Bigger names. Flashier songs. But none of them had seized the unruly crowd like Bill did. None of them had his ka-pow! That extra sparkle that differentiated regular people from stars.

He was magic.

She dragged her attention to Luke and saw the kid gaping at the stage. Yeah. He sensed it, too. Any other artist hearing Bill -- really hearing him-- would understand how special he was.

“Shit.” Luke murmured, his tone awed and the word barely audible.

“I told you.” Clem’s eyes drank in Pecos Bill.

She was in love with this man. Not because he was a brilliant musician, but because his soul was so gentle. So true and caring and pure. It was Bill’s innate nobility that made his music incredible.

Clem didn’t care that some stupid tests said that he was Bad. What did labels matter? She could hear Bill’s Goodness whenever he played. If he’d chosen to paint houses for a living, she would have spotted it there, too. Everything he did was art. She could sense his perfect, unique spirit in all of it.

She was in love with Bill.

Maybe Clementine had been in love with him for a while, but this was the moment that she admitted it. So much light came from inside of him that it was impossible not to love him.

For Clem, emotions and sex were linked. She suddenly got that about herself. Bill was the only man she’d ever chased, because he was the only one she’d ever loved. Clem had been too overwhelmed with the unfamiliar stirrings of desire to consider their deeper significance. Now it was clear that Bill had awakened her passions, because he’d won her heart.

For her, it was Pecos Bill and no one else.

At the end of the song, people clapped much more enthusiastically than they’d applauded for any of the other performers. That was only fair, since Bill was the best of them. He seemed ambivalent about the cheers. His eyes restlessly scanned the darkness and she knew he was trying to see her through the glare of the spotlight.

“Beautiful, honey.” She called, loud enough for him to hear.

His mouth finally curved, and he inclined his head in her direction. Her praise was the recognition he wanted, it seemed. Nobody else’s cheers were enough to satisfy him. He liked being the center of her attention, the same way she liked being the center of his.

They really were a perfect match.

“What did you think?” She asked Luke, as the house lights came up again.

“He was okay.” Luke grumbled.

“He’s a star. I’m never wrong about my magic. I don’t think everybody has musical talent. I just know it when I hear it. I know that you’ve got it.”

He looked her way again.

“That’s why I’m being a little pushy with you.” She shrugged. “I’m ambitious. I should probably warn you about that. I want big things for the people around me. I see the potential for big, big things with you.”

He frowned, his gaze still searching her face.

“You have a rare gift. Very, very few people are born with that little dollop of ka-pow! in their blood. It gives you a natural advantage in music. But it takes more than just innate ability to be a classical violinist. You need professional training.”

“I looked up pictures of that Westlands Academy place you were talkin’ about.”

She wasn’t the least bit surprised, but she pretended to be. “Oh, did you?”

“They have swanky white columns and shit at that school. Even if they let me in, I don’t have the money for tuition. I don’t even know why you brought it up.”

“Because you’re more talented than most of the students at Westlands Performing Arts Academy and you deserve the best instruction possible. There are scholarships you can apply for.”

The kid didn’t look convinced.

“I know a lot of people in this town.” Clem persisted. “I’ll help you get recommendation letters and convince the academy that you’re worth a shot.”

For just a second, hope lit his expression. …Then, it faded. “Except I’m not worth a shot.”

“Luke, you are .”

“Whatever. I gotta go…”

Harry came over, cutting off his exit. “Here you are!”

Luke’s body tensed, like he expected to be kicked out of the club. Or maybe just kicked. He watched the sasquatch with palpable distrust.

Harry barely noticed him, caught up in his act. “On the house.” He announced grandly and placed a huge pepperoni pizza on the table, executing an actual bow.

Luke was too distracted by the sight of food to notice the sasquatch’s terribly stilted delivery. The kid’s lips parted in something approaching awe, as he studied the pizza. “They’re just --like-- giving this to you?”

“Oh, sure.” Clementine wasn’t a gifted liar, but she was pleased with that blasé delivery. She covered her uncomfortable blush by picking up the smallest slice of pizza. “They’re always giving away food this early in the evening. It helps to bring people through the door. If you ever need a free dinner, just come on by and Harry will hook you up.”

Harry sent her a pointed look.

She gave him an almost imperceptible nod, assuring him again that she’d pay for anything Luke ate. Finding the money might be hard, but she’d do it somehow. She couldn’t let the poor kid starve.

Harry patted her shoulder in a “you’re an idiot, but I like you” kind of way and left.

Luke’s brows drew together. “He’s not supposed to touch you. It’s a real Bad idea.”

“You’re kind of obsessed with touching.”

“I’m trying to look out for you. Hell if I know why , because you’re really fucking bossy.”

“Ambitious.” Clementine corrected, around a bite of pizza. She preferred the fried onion appetizer at The Kitchen, but it wasn’t bad. “‘Bossy’ sounds better when you pronounce it ‘ambitious’.”

“I just don’t think you understand enough about coyotes. Women who get mixed up with us always regret it.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of very happy coyote relationships.”

“I’m certain there’s not . We don’t have True Loves.”

“That just means coyotes can choose anyone they want. Making your own choices is always best.”

“Except the girls we choose don’t choose us back. Not for long. Look, I’m not sure how that guitar-player convinced a lady like you to live with him…”

“Oh, it was my idea, not Bill’s.”

Luke sighed as if he pitied her and kept talking. “…But you’re making a big mistake. Coyotes are possessive of the women they steal. They can be dangerous. And he’s not going to like how friendly that sasquatch is with you.”

She frowned, because Luke’s anti-coyote sentiments hinted at self-esteem issues. “First of all, Bill didn’t ‘steal’ me. Secondly, Harry is dating a large, gorgeous cowboy. And third and most important to this conversation: Bill isn’t dangerous. Not to anyone and certainly not to me.”

“He’s tricking you! Coyotes are always pretending. He’s acting all calm and friendly, but he’s gonna hurt you. And people who know you are gonna have to watch, while…” He stopped short, cringing at the sound of his own words.

Clementine eyed him with compassion. “You grew up in some rough places?” She guessed softly.

Luke gave a jerky shrug, looking everywhere but her.

“In every group, there are nice people and not-very-nice people.” Her voice was soothing and sure. “That has nothing to do with coyotes. There are some muses who are real jerks. They can be so dismissive of artists who they deem unworthy of their time.” She shook her head in disapproval, because she’d never understood that type of snobbery. Offering encouragement was so much more rewarding than slapping someone down. “I try to be a nice muse, but I sometimes think I’m outnumbered by the other kind.”

“You’re too nice.” Luke muttered.

“Maybe. But Bill’s nice, as well. He’s the gentlest man I know.”

Luke seemed highly doubtful.

“I don’t know what happened in your past, but I know for a fact that not all coyotes are dangerous.” Clem assured him. “Trust me. I hang out with two of them and they’re both sweetie-pies.”

The kid scowled, as if he was going to ask what other coyote she knew and then realized she meant him. His face compressed in distaste at being labeled a “sweetie-pie.”

Clementine bit back a smile. “Now, stop worrying so much.” She waved a hand towards the pizza. “Eat!”

Luke hesitated, thrown off by the offer of food. “Yeah?” He asked warily, like maybe the pepperoni was booby-trapped.

“Yeah.” She mocked good-naturedly.

“I really gotta go.” But his gaze was locked on the pizza.

“Please, Luke? Help me out. There’s no way I can finish all this.”

The kid clearly hated wasting food. He grabbed two slices and stacked them on top of each other, so he could bite into them both at the same time. Within ten seconds both were gone, and he was reaching for the next two.

Clementine blinked. Okay. Feeding him was going to get expensive.

Luke was midway through his third helping, when he suddenly went motionless. Not like the cautious way he’d watched Harry. More like his whole body froze in anticipation of a fight.

Clem glanced around and her mood soared. “Bill! You found us.”