Love, Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

a teddy bear on the front.
    She smiled. She loved teddy bears. When she’d run away from home her old brown bear had been the only thing she’d taken with her.
    She opened the card and read it.
    Roses are red,
    Violets are blue.
    Don’t let Dakota
    Get to you.
    Love, me
    T HE FOLLOWING EVENING Chelsea made the next move in her campaign to convince Dakota to write a song for her.
    He was performing at his club, Dakota Country on Music Row. Chelsea arrived just before he began his last set and prayed that he wouldn’t spot her in the audience. She was determined to see him after the performance, sure that if she could get him alone long enough to plead her case, he’d be convinced that writing a song for her was his idea.
    Chelsea sat at a table as far away from the stage as possible and lowered her head as Dakota strode onstage. When the lights dimmed and Dakota began to sing, Chelsea forgot about being as inconspicuous as possible. She listened breathlessly, and ached and cheered along with the rest of the audience. When the set ended, it took her a moment to remember her reason for being there.
    She paid her tab and made her way toward the hallway that led to Dakota’s private domain. When she’d entered the club she’d been surprised that the walls were not covered with ego-enhancing mementos of Dakota’s stunning career. There was only one picture of Dakota in the foyer; the rest of the wall space was given over to posters of other performers. Autographed posters of Dwight Yoakam, Tanya Tucker and Billy Ray Cyrus were hung outside Dakota’s dressing room.
    Chelsea hesitated outside the door and listened.
    â€œCan I help you?”
    Chelsea froze, then took a deep breath and turned.
    â€œIt’s you again!” Dakota accused, recognizing her.
    â€œI wanted to talk to you…” she began.
    â€œLook,” he said, his gaze traveling over her, “I don’t care how short that red spandex mini is, the answer is still no.”
    â€œBut-”
    â€œStay away from me,” he warned, pulling his white Stetson down over his cold blue eyes as he went into his dressing room. The door slammed behind him.
    So much for his telling her he’d think about it, Chelsea realized, but she remained standing in the hallway. Her plan of attack hadn’t allowed for a door being slammed in her face, but she had no intention of leaving.
    She was raising her hand to knock on the door when she heard Dakota begin strumming his guitar. She listened as the strumming went on in fits and starts. With each new start, Chelsea could sense that Dakota was becoming more and more frustrated.
    Suddenly he cursed and played a loud, dissonant chord. This was followed by the sound of his guitar hitting the wall. Breaking strings twanged, and then there was silence.
    Playing a hunch, Chelsea entered the dressing room without knocking.
    â€œTell me the truth, cowboy,” she challenged. “Is the reason you keep refusing to write a song for me because you won’t or you can’t?”
    Dakota’s head was buried in his hands. “Go away.”
    â€œAnswer the question and maybe I will.”
    There was a long pause. “Okay, I can’t. Are you satisfied?” he mumbled.
    â€œWhy can’t you?”
    â€œI thought you were leaving,” he said, looking up at her.
    â€œI said, maybe I would.”
    â€œDo you try to annoy people, or is it just a natural talent?”
    â€œWhat I’m trying to do is get you to write a song for me,” she said, ignoring his rudeness.
    â€œWell, now you know I can’t, why don’t you be a good little girl and run along,” Dakota replied, nodding toward the door.
    â€œA good little girl? You must be kidding.” She took a seat, crossed her legs, and dangled her red high heel flirtatiously.
    â€œLet me guess,” she ventured. “You haven’t announced a tour date because your album is