Good Time Bad Boy (15 page)

“Yeah.” Wade closed the distance between them. “I’m gonna have to kiss you first.”

He cupped the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. His lips were soft on hers, warm and sweet but insistent. Desire screamed in every cell of her body, hard and sudden, and she wanted him to devour her. Wanted his arms around her, his hands on her skin. But he wouldn’t cooperate. He kept control of the kiss, molding her mouth with his while keeping his lips firmly closed. Denying her. Teasing her. Infuriating her. She clutched at him, pressing her body against his. He grabbed her hands and lowered her arms, held her wrists behind her back.

All this restraint was going to kill her, or at least drive her crazy.

Wade released her and stepped away. “See you tomorrow, Daisy.”

Jesus. Just like that, he was leaving? After kissing her like that? “What?”

He opened the door of his truck and paused. “Good time bad boy. I like that.”

“What?” Her body flamed so hot surely her clothes must have been smoking.

Wade didn’t say another word, just flashed that heartbreaker smile, climbed into his truck and left.

Daisy screamed and kicked at the gravel, swearing to herself that she didn’t want to get involved with him and wishing like crazy that he would turn around and come back.

W
ade sipped his iced tea, wishing it was a beer instead. A dull ache in his knees and ankles served as an unfortunate reminder of his morning run. His stomach rumbled with hunger, unsatisfied by the grapefruit and whole wheat toast he’d had for breakfast.

Clean living sucked. There wasn’t even any damn sugar in his tea.

He set the glass on the end table and opened the notebook in his lap. The pages were full of scribbled notes, unfinished lyrics, appointment reminders and passwords. He cringed at the sight of an old bank account password, thankful no one ever stole this notebook.

As far as anybody knew, he’d quit writing after the record label dropped him. That wasn’t far from the truth. It had been years since he’d crafted anything new. For a while Becky asked every now and then, but even she eventually quit. Songwriting was too much a part of him for him to quit completely, so he’d kept the notebook handy even during long dry spells. Somehow none of those bits and pieces ever turned into a finished song.

He read every page carefully, tagging pages with little sticky flags if he found something with potential. Many of the notes were brief sketches of places and people he’d encountered on the road. He gave those pages the same color flag as an idea took shape. Nothing particularly groundbreaking, just a song about the road. That was common once musicians started touring a lot. But it was the road he’d experienced, so why not write about it? Beautiful images from far corners of America, all the unique and prosaic people he’d met in bars and casinos and state fairs and the mid-morning breakfast crowd at cheap restaurants next to motels. Everybody had a story and he’d heard plenty over the years.

Other notes were less pleasant. He may have been self-medicating with booze but the pain had still been raw, a wound that took years to stop bleeding. Unsent letters to his ex-wife were scattered throughout the notebook, his handwriting always hard to decipher because he was invariably drunk when he wrote them. Worse, in three different places he found what read like prayers that he didn’t remember writing. Not to God, though – to the baby boy he and Kristin lost.

Nausea twisted his stomach into knots. He closed the notebook and tossed it to the far end of the couch. After all this time the pain shouldn’t have felt so fresh, so immediate, but it did. The temptation to dull it with liquor gnawed at him, but he didn’t want to do that anymore. It felt disrespectful to the memories of his marriage and the hopes he’d had for their child. No matter how much it hurt, it was worth all the pain. He knew that now. He’d lost such precious things, but that didn’t mean those things should be forgotten. The idea of oblivion in a bottle had never lived up to its promise.

Wade closed his eyes and let it all come down. All the old pain, the regrets, the anger at a God he couldn’t see fit to pray to after losing his son. The self-loathing at not knowing how to be there for his wife during her own grieving. The disgust at his cowardice and letting his marriage slip away from him rather than at least try to mend it. He’d long accepted that it was the right thing for the marriage to end, but he still hated the way he’d let it happen, running away to the road and endless tour dates instead of facing the end like a man. And then letting the road and his own stubborn brooding consume him and ruin his career too.

He let it all come down and press their weight against him, with nothing to shield him. After a while he realized that it wasn’t crushing him. That he could still breathe. That he could let it all go. So he did.

Light-headed and a little dizzy, he threw the notebook in the trash and grabbed his keys. He got in his truck and didn’t think about where to go but just drove automatically and found himself at Rocky Top. Daisy’s beat up little car sat in its usual spot in the employee parking area. His heart swelled at the sight and his mouth tingled at the memory of kissing her.

Slow down, he thought. Think about all those reasons not to get involved with her. So he did, ticking them off in his head like a laundry list. Then he said screw it and got out of his truck. He’d held himself apart from people for so long, maybe what he needed was to get up close and personal with someone who made him feel good things again. If she would let him.

He could tell that Daisy knew something about holding herself apart from people, that her story wasn’t all sweetness and light. That only made him want to know her all the more. What had made her so tough, so flinty, but still capable of treating a man they way she’d treated him in that alley behind the bar right before his first performance. She’d given him a gift that night and he wondered now if she even knew it.

The afternoon crowd at Rocky Top was light. A handful of people just clocked out of their shifts sat at the bar and a few of the tables, drinking a quick beer or three before heading home. Fleetwood Mac rattled out of the sound system. The big television was on a news channel with the volume off. Ronisha stood behind the bar rolling silverware into napkins. Daisy was nowhere to be seen.

Wade took advantage of his employee status and joined Ronisha behind the bar. She immediately plunked down a handful of utensils and paper napkins. “Hey, cowboy,” she said. “Thanks for the help.”

Wade grinned. “You’re welcome, darlin’. Is Daisy around?”

“She’s in the back.”

A guy in a trucking company hat drinking a beer said, “You playing tonight, Wade? I thought you only did weekends.”

“I play Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights.” Wade grinned. “Today I’m just here for a nice juicy steak.”

Ronisha snorted.

The guy in the hat said, “My wife’s been bugging me to bring her up here to see you. What’s the best night to come?”

“They’re all good,” Wade said. “It’s a good show every night.”

Ronisha said, “He gets rowdy on Saturday nights. Mixes a little classic rock in with his country.”

“That right?” Hat guy nodded. “My wife would like that.”

“I’m planning on teaching him some Kanye, a little Bruno Mars.” Ronisha winked. “I expect that to be interesting.” She laughed.

Wade paused with a set of utensils in his hand. “I can’t rap but I could sing some Bruno Mars.”

“You could sing Bruno Mars?” Ronisha laughed again. “Do you even know who Bruno Mars is?”

“One, I can sing anything. Two, yes. I keep up.” Or tried to, at least lately. Wade picked up a napkin and resumed his task.

Ronisha leaned a hand on the bar and rested the other on her hip. “Tell me the name of a Bruno Mars song. Just one.”

Wade placed a set of utensils on the top of the pile in front of Ronisha. “I just remembered something I need to ask Daisy. Where’d you say she is?”

Ronisha shook her head, grinning. “Yeah, I’ll bet. She’s in the storeroom taking inventory.”

Wade wagged his eyebrows. “The storeroom? That sounds promising.”

The guy in the hat laughed.

“I think I’ll just go help her take inventory,” Wade said.

Ronisha leveled her index finger at him. “No health code violations, cowboy.”

Laughter rippled from the patrons. Wade raised his hands in wordless protest as he arranged his features in a mockery of innocence. He ducked through the door to the back, so pleased he almost whistled.

The storeroom was at the end of the narrow hall, the last room before the exit to the alley. The door stood partially open. Wade leaned against the doorframe, his thumbs hooked in his pockets. Daisy stood on a box, peering into a container on the top shelf of a storage rack, humming quietly to herself.

Her long legs were showcased magnificently by the short black uniform skirt and the position. Even standing on the box and as tall as she was, she had to stretch on her tiptoes to see into the container. It drew her muscles taut, filling his head with images of those legs wrapped around him, sealing him to her. Her tight black t-shirt clung to her flesh, revealing the delicious flare of her waist. He traced every curve with his eyes and imagined doing the same with his hands.

Wade knew he should walk away. They both had a long list of reasons not to get involved. Good reasons. Reasons that should be taken seriously. But he couldn’t help himself. Whether he deserved it or not, he wanted something good in his life. He wanted to be the good thing in somebody else’s life. Daisy was the best thing he’d seen in a long time, and if she’d let him, he wanted there to be something good between them. Even if it wasn’t perfect, even if it didn’t last forever. He just wanted to keep feeling the way she made him feel, light as air and golden like sunshine, free of the past and looking ahead for the first time in years.

The wire from an ear bud snaked down one side of her body, leading to the small waitress apron in the front. Her body swayed slightly to the music and her humming became singing, something about being off to the races but it didn’t sound like anything to do with horses. A smile came to his lips and he stepped further into the storage room, silently closing the door behind him.

Daisy came down from the box right as he reached her. She jumped as if goosed and pulled the ear bud out. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on people.”

“I thought you were supposed to be doing inventory. Looks more like you’re hiding out listening to music.” Slowly, he backed her up against the storage rack, his hands on the metal shelf on either side of her head.

“I can do both.” She rested her hands on his chest. “It’s called multitasking.”

Lust spiked hard in his gut and other places. His pulse sped up. Seeing that same desire reflected in her eyes nearly undid him. “Let’s try focusing on just one thing for right now.”

He kissed her. No, he didn’t merely kiss her. He took possession of her mouth, claimed it as his own property. Those soft lips were his, and so was her sweet tongue as it slid wetly against his. He crowded her between his body and the storage rack until she had nowhere to go. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tunneling in his hair and her hungry little mouth tearing at his. He trailed his hands down her sides, the swell of her full breasts and the bell of her hips. He gripped her waist with one hand and cupped her ass with the other, bringing her closer, grinding her into the straining erection barely contained by his jeans.

A soft whimper escaped her. He kissed a line down her jaw, to the hollow of her throat, then back up so he could whisper in her ear. “I’m an old fashioned man, Daisy. The first time we make love will be in my bed. I’ll take my time. Kiss you all over. By the time I’m done I’ll be able to draw a map of every sensitive place on your body. It’ll be romantic and tender and the candles will burn out before we do.”

He grabbed her hands and held them clasped in his above her head, pinning her. “The second time, I’ll push you up against a wall and fuck you hot and hard. Make you scream until you’re hoarse and can barely say my name the last time you come. Your legs won’t work and you’ll slide to the floor and offer to make me a god damn sandwich because it was just that fucking good.”

She let out another whimper. “Oh God.”

He kissed her, nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. “Name’s Wade, darlin’.”

Daisy laughed. “You better not be making promises you can’t keep.”

“Oh, those were promises I can keep.” He released her hands and stepped back. The loss of her soft curves against his body left him aching. “The timing is up to you.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t work tomorrow night.”

Wade smiled. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“And take me to dinner.” She poked his chest. “And bring me flowers.”

“There was talk of romance, wasn’t there? I can definitely do that.”

Her eyes skipped around the tiny room, finally landing back on his. Uncertainty was etched in her face. “I want both. I mean, I...both things you talked about. Uh.”

“Of course you do.” He reached up with one hand and stroked her cheek. “I do, too.”

Someone pounded on the door. Ronisha said from the other side, “Y’all better come up for air. Josh is here.”

“Be right out,” Daisy called. In a quieter voice she said to Wade, “I don’t think either one of us is too sure what we’re doing, but I’m okay with that. As long as we’re honest with each other, I think we’ll be okay.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Daisy.”

“Good. Now here’s me being honest. I won’t be your dirty little secret. I may be just a barmaid but I will be respected. I’m under no illusions about anything lasting past the summer but that doesn’t mean you can treat me badly. I like the idea of flowers and dinner and making love with you until the candles burn down. Just don’t think that means I’m cheap or easy.”

“I don’t think you’re cheap and you’re damn sure not easy.” He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “You have no idea how much I like how you stand up for yourself.”

She swallowed. “Good.” She took a step toward the door and stopped. “Oh, and also.” She moved against him, her hand stroking his erection. Even through his jeans, her touch electrified him. He bit back a moan. She said, “For the third time, I intend to climb on top of you and ride you until we’re both covered in sweat and you are so far gone you don’t even know your own name.” She squeezed his cock and this time he couldn’t keep a growl from slipping out.