Painted Melodies (Lost Creek, Texas Hill Country Book 2)

Prologue

Dax Tennyson left his office a little before six and drove home, hoping to find his wife there. Shailene was a realtor and worked odd hours, sometimes showing homes in the evening and oftentimes on weekends. Sometimes he felt they were becoming more like roommates who shared a few things in passing as one went in the door and the other went out it. He hoped tonight would be different.

Because he really was ready for them to have a baby.

They had been married six years, and he was eager to start a family now. Actually, Dax had been ready to have children from the moment they got married, but Shailene had said she wanted to become more established in her career. He had agreed to put it off and kept quiet for five years. Last year, he’d brought up the subject for the first time, and Shailene had seemed surprised. She had agreed, though, to go off her birth control pills and see what happened.

Nothing had. At least, not yet.

With both their careers in full swing, though, finding time to be together—much less be intimate—was getting in the way of accomplishing that goal. Dax hoped not only would his wife become pregnant soon but that it might spark a deeper closeness between them. He longed for the early years when they discussed their plans for the future.

He had given up a lot of his dreams when he married. Before he’d tied the knot, he’d had steady employment with his accounting job and played the market on the side, making quite a bundle. Weekends, he’d served as a DJ for weddings and other events, which generated a terrific income. He’d been dabbling in songwriting for years and had thought about chucking the day job in order to pursue a career in music— until Shailene came along. She was very conservative in her outlook, and the thought of her fiancé giving up his lucrative career in business to try and earn a living as a musician had horrified her. She’d threatened to break off their engagement if he pursued those dreams.

Instead, he’d put them on hold. At least, that’s what he told himself. That someday, he would make enough money to break out of the eight-to-five rut and follow his heart back to music. Dax had put his DJ-ing equipment into storage and shelved his songwriting. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d picked up his guitar. He focused on work and had moved up the corporate ladder swiftly, now managing an accounting group of over thirty employees.

His instincts for the market had also paid off, and he was at a point where he could actually quit work if he wanted and pick up music again. Dax had even thought about being the stay-at-home dad to allow Shailene to keep working since she loved what she did so much. It would be a blessing to be able to remain home and raise their kids, writing music on the side, and hopefully performing some on weekends.

But first, they needed to get pregnant. Once that happened, he’d talk things over with Shailene and make new plans for their future, ones that included their growing family and his desire to follow his passion.

He arrived home, parking in the driveway of their Park Cities house, an exclusive area in the heart of Dallas and close to where he’d attended college at SMU. Dax had DJ’d many fraternity and sorority parties during his college years, as well as events throughout the Park Cities. They’d purchased this home three years ago, a pocket listing Shailene had, and he knew today, after the work he’d put into it, that they could sell it for double what they’d paid for it.

Selling their home was something he wanted to broach with his wife. While he liked the house, he wanted more room for their family, even if that meant leaving the Park Cities. His gut told him Shailene wouldn’t go for that, though. She liked the fancy address, plus most of her showings were in this area, which made it easy for her to come home in-between clients.

Dax entered the house, calling, “I’m home,” but he sensed it was empty. He’d wanted to get a dog, but Shailene was allergic to pet dander. Maybe he could look into dogs that were hypoallergenic. He’d always wanted a pet growing up, but his mom said they were too poor to have one. Since she worked three jobs and they still barely had food to put on the table, he’d known not to press the issue. But he wanted his kids to have a pet and bond with it.

Checking his phone, he saw he had no texts from his wife, which disappointed him. It was his birthday, and a part of him had wanted her to make a fuss over him because of it. Presents for birthdays or Christmas had been unheard of in his household, but now that he had money, he wanted to celebrate some, be it with a gift or an evening at a nice restaurant. He decided to text her and see if she wanted to meet him somewhere.

Just got home. Can you meet me for dinner?

Dax waited, knowing if she were with a client that she wouldn’t reply immediately. After a few minutes, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and went upstairs, getting out of his work clothes and throwing on a T-shirt and faded jeans. He returned to the den, flipping on the TV, holding his beer up to the screen.

“Happy birthday to me,” he toasted, unhappiness rolling through him.

He was thirty-two and hoped he would’ve done more with his life by now. Yes, he made a terrific salary and had a beautiful wife and nice house, but he felt so empty inside. Maybe this would be the year of change for him. He would quit his job. They could buy a bigger house with some land. It was time to start writing music again. And hopefully, Shailene would finally become pregnant. After a year of trying with no results, he’d insisted they both get checked out two weeks ago. Their physicians gave them each a clean bill of health. Her OB/Gyn had even told Shailene not to stress about it. That the more they relaxed, the easier it would be to become pregnant.

Of course, they’d actually have to make love for that to happen.

Standing up, he went to take his empty can into the kitchen and make himself a sandwich since he hadn’t heard back from his wife. He tripped over one of her shoes and stumbled, falling on his hands and knees. A fingernail caught against a wood plank and tore, and Dax cursed loudly. Pushing to his feet, he had sore knees, aching palms, and a bleeding finger. He rinsed the beer can in the kitchen and placed it in the recycling bin and headed up to their bathroom to doctor his finger.

Under the strong light, he saw how jagged the wound was. Dax washed it thoroughly with soap and needed an emery board to smooth out the nail since clippers wouldn’t do the job. He knew Shailene had to have one, so he went to her side of the bathroom and opened a drawer, digging through lipsticks and other assorted makeup, not finding one. He opened a second drawer and struck out and moved to the third one.

“Bingo!” he said, finding the emery board and sanding down his nail, which hurt like hell.

As he started to place the emery board back in the drawer, he paused. His gut tightened as he dropped the nail file.

And picked up a familiar-looking, plastic package.

Surely, this was an old birth control pack, one Shailene hadn’t bothered to throw away. Yet his senses were on high alert as he popped open the pack. Today was the twelfth.

The pill pack was missing twelve pills.

It felt as if a heavyweight boxer had slammed a fist into Dax’s gut.

Why had Shailene lied?

Digging around the drawer, he found two more pill packs, both full. She’d always gotten them in groups of three from their mail order insurance company. Which meant she’d recently started this pill pack. All the while, she was bemoaning how they couldn’t get pregnant. Everything that came out of her mouth was a lie.

Dax took all three packs with him, closing the drawer, not knowing if or when he was going to confront her. If the pills were missing and she went to take one tomorrow morning, that would clue her in that he had discovered her secret. Should he wait until then to say something? Or should he confront her and accuse her of holding out on him the moment she got home?

His finger was throbbing madly now, as was his head, where he knew a monster headache was building. He put a little antibiotic ointment on the nail and then wrapped a bandage around it, still not quite being able to come to grips with the situation.

Going back downstairs, he placed the three pill packs on the center of the kitchen table and sat, disbelief pouring through him. Then he heard the garage door going up and knew Shailene was home. He steeled himself for the fight that would play out in mere seconds.

She entered the kitchen, looking chic in her smart, designer suit and sky-high stilettos. She spent a small fortune on her wardrobe, telling Dax she had to dress as well as her clients in order to be successful and gain their trust.

“I got your text,” Shailene said, setting down her tote on the kitchen counter, along with a large brown sack.. “I thought I’d just pick up something for dinner. It’s Chinese.”

She turned and started to say something else to him, their gazes meeting. He stared hard at her, anger building inside him.

“What’s wrong with…” Her voice trailed off—because her eyes had caught sight of what sat on the table in front of him. Then anger sparked in her eyes. “You had no right going through my things,” she spat out.

Dax crossed his arms. “You had no right to lie to me, Shailene. Yet you have. Over and over again. You said you wanted a baby as much as I did. We even had our doctors run a mess of tests, trying to see if either of us had something wrong with us. And all along, you’re calmly ordering and taking a birth control pill each morning, preventing the very thing you know we want. Or should I, what I want? Because apparently, we are on a different page from one another. Maybe even a different book. I want a family. You obviously don’t. And you were coward enough to take these behind my back.”

“I’m not a coward,” she said quickly, crossing her own arms defensively. “I just wasn’t ready to be a mom.” She huffed. “Frankly, I don’t know if I ever want to be one, Dax.”

He shot to his feet. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have talked about this.”

“Because you wouldn’t have listened to what I wanted,” she snapped. “We always have to do whatever you want.”

“What?” he said. “Are you kidding me? I’m the one who gave up DJ-ing for you. You told me I’d never make a decent living in music, so I put away my dreams of writing and performing. I’ve toed the line these last six years of marriage, trying to fit into the corporate world and dying a little more each day when I went to work. And you’re never home, Shailene. We don’t do anything together anymore. You’re always out showing houses and attending open houses and corporate parties. I can’t remember the last time we went to a movie or concert together. Couples need to do things together. Spend time together.”

He paused. “Make love together. Or else their marriage won’t survive.”

“This marriage is already dead,” she said succinctly, another blow to him.

“No,” he protested. “No. We can keep trying. See a marriage counselor. We can?—”

“I don’t want to see anyone, Dax. I got tired of you a long time ago,” Shailene admitted. “I don’t want to have your baby. I don’t want to stay married to you. I’ve… I’ve found someone else.”

All the air seemed to go out of the room. He grew dizzy and collapsed into the chair again.

“You don’t love me anymore?” he asked dully, suddenly realizing he felt so empty because the love he’d had for her had withered and died a long time ago. That he’d been holding on to her out of habit.

“I don’t know if I ever did,” she said, biting her lip. “I’ve been seeing someone else. For a while now.”

He shook his head. Just when he thought this day couldn’t get any worse, it did.

“Who?” he demanded, but a part of him felt as if he didn’t really care enough to know.

Her face flamed. “Alex,” she spit out.

Dax went cold inside. “Alex. My best friend Alex? The one you always complain about.”

She shrugged. “It just… happened.”

No wonder Alex had seemed so distant lately. Because he was banging his best friend’s wife.

Scooping up the birth control pill packs, he shoved them at Shailene. “Then I guess you’ll need to keep taking these. Alex has said repeatedly that he never wants kids.”

He turned to go. Where, he didn’t know. Just that he had to escape.

“So, that’s it?” she demanded.

“What do you want me to say, Shailene? You’ve lied to me repeatedly. You’re sleeping with my closest friend. This bomb has gone nuclear. There’s no coming back from it. I certainly don’t want to stay married to you. I’ll file for divorce online. A guy at work did it last year, so I’m familiar with the steps he took because he talked about it so much. If you don’t contest it, it’s pretty smooth sailing. We file. Wait sixty days. Get a court date for a hearing and then appear before a judge.”

Stubbornness filled her face. “I want my half of things,” she said. “You owe me, Dax.”

It appalled him that she was thinking about money at a moment like this. “I’ll give you this house outright, plus half of what’s in our savings and checking accounts.”

Shailene had no idea how much money Dax had accumulated through his stock trades. He had several accounts solely in his name. She knew he played the market, but he never really talked about his losses or profits. Giving her the house was more than fair. He supposed in his gut he had known Shailene wasn’t in the marriage for the long-haul, and that was why he’d set up a few accounts she didn’t know about. Dax felt no guilt at this moment about doing so.

“I’ll take it,” she said abruptly. “You can leave now.”

Dax shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “I’ll stay in the guestroom, but I won’t leave this house until the day the divorce decree is issued. Then I’ll move out. You can keep all the furnishings. I’ll want to start over.”

She pursed her lips in thought. Lips he used to want to kiss. Once, he’d thought her so beautiful. He realized now her outward shell held beauty, but her heart was dark inside.

“Then I’ll come and go as I please,” she told him. “Don’t ask where I am and don’t expect me to be home every night.”

She grabbed the Chinese takeout and her purse and left without a word.

He placed his elbows on the table, dropping his head into his hands. He felt totally wrung out, physically and emotionally, though no tears came. Inside, he felt dead.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he sighed loudly. He had a chance to have a new life, pursuing the things he wanted to do. He definitely would never get married again because his trust had been so badly damaged, he couldn’t imagine ever letting any woman get close again.

Dax went to the fridge and removed another beer. He made himself a PBJ and sat at the table.

“Happy Birthday to me,” he said, knowing he’d never celebrate another birthday again.