Dirty Mind (Nashville Outlaws #2)

by Cheryl Douglas

  That’s when I realized Dade Jarvis really was just like anyone else. He got nervous, anxious, wrestled with the same insecurities, and tried to mask the same fears as the rest of the world.

  “If you say so.” I couldn’t imagine why they’d remain interested that long. Didn’t they have other celebrities to stalk, more salacious stories to chase down?

  “So, to get them off your parents’ doorstep, you need to stay elsewhere.”

  I considered my options. Since I’d just moved to town, I didn’t have many friends, certainly no one close enough to let me couch surf. “Um, I could ask Cece if I could stay there until they get back from their honeymoon, but—”

  “That’s the second place they’d look for you,” Dade said. “Right after your parents’ place.”

  “Well, maybe I could ask Max if I could crash with him for a bit, but—”

  “Uh no, not secure enough.”

  I sighed before draining my bottle. “Well, what the hell do you suggest? I can’t afford to stay in a hotel for that long and—”

  “I have a guest house.” He drained the rest of his beer before reaching into the fridge for another while I stood there with my mouth hanging open. “And I need an assistant.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t be serious.”

  I couldn’t live with this man. Okay, technically I wouldn’t be living with him, but I’d be living on his property and working for him. No woman who’d burned up the sheets with Dade could resist the temptation of… a four-peat. Yeah, a four-peat. Because last night he’d been good for a triple header. Not even a collapsing bed slowed him down once he got his hands on me.

  Just thinking about it made me drain my beer and reach for another. I held the cold bottle against the open neckline of my pink tank top, letting it cool me down. Only one little problem. His gaze was fixed on the bottle and dipping lower, heating me up all over again.

  “It’s the perfect solution if you think about it.” He popped the top on his bottle before taking a swig. “We can give the job a trial run while you save up money for a place of your own and… you won’t have to stay with your parents anymore.” He smiled, like he knew that should seal the deal. “And staying here, we’d both have peace of mind. No way will anyone get past the guard at my gatehouse.”

  “Even if I agreed to this,” I said, eyeing him carefully. “I’m not gonna live like a prisoner, Dade.” I couldn’t believe I was actually considering it. Must have something to do with the fact he was right—it kind of was the perfect solution. At least for me. “Your fortress isn’t gonna become my jail.”

  He smirked. “I wouldn’t expect that. But no one would have reason to suspect you’re staying here, so they wouldn’t be camped out. Besides, they couldn’t even if they wanted to. This is a private road. No trespassing signs plastered everywhere and I wouldn’t hesitate to have their asses hauled in.”

  I was beginning to understand why he liked rural living. Made it harder for people to stalk him. “So, I’d be able to come and go as I pleased, if I agreed to this?” I crossed my arms. “Still go jogging, to the gym, play gigs at night?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re playing gigs now?”

  “Trying to line up a few.” I’d put out feelers and Max told me he had some promising leads. “Just for fun. I don’t expect anything to come of it, but—”

  “You’re talented, Charli. Don’t sell yourself short.”

  Can’t deny hearing one of my musical idols telling me I had talent gave me a little buzz. “Thanks, but I know the odds are stacked against me. Anyhow, about this offer of yours…”

  “Yeah, of course, you’d be able to come and go as you please. Visit family, friends, go shopping, whatever.” He hesitated, biting his lip. “Although, I have to tell you, that Max guy, he’s not interested in bein’ your friend. That boy’s got a thing for you.”

  I wasn’t blind, but Max was too much like the other guys I’d dated. He was living rent-free in a house his parents owned, working on his music, at thirty. Thanks, but no thanks. Didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends though, and I’d made it clear to him I wasn’t looking for more.

  “Max is every guy I’ve ever dated, Dade.” I took a sip of my beer, trying to tamp down the bitter memories. Dade didn’t have the market cornered on bad relationship with letches. I’d had my fair share too. “I now know that’s definitely not what I want.”

  He hooked the heel of his boot into the rung of the bar stool behind him. “So, what is your type?”

  “Uh, aren’t we supposed to be talking about this job thing?”

  “Yeah, in a minute.” His eyes were sparkling with amusement when he said, “But first I wanna hear about your type.”

  “You go first.” I was beginning to realize Dade was used to getting whatever he wanted, and I wanted to be the one who made him work for it, who reminded him not everything came easily. “Describe your type.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I can tell you the kind of woman who’s definitely not my type. I think I’ve nailed that.”

  I smiled, appreciating the fact that he could still laugh at himself. “Okay, so it should make it easier to figure out who your ideal woman is, since you know she’s the opposite of everyone you’ve been with so far.”

  “I swore off women. Publicly and privately. Just gonna focus on my music now.”

  I rolled my tongue inside my cheek, trying like hell to bite back my retort, but it spilled out anyway. “Uh Dade, I was with you last night in that bed, or should I say, on that mattress. And it didn’t feel to me like you were done with women.”

  He laughed, dipping his head, as he pointed at me. “I didn’t say I intend to become a monk.”

  “Ah, so casual sex with women who know the score.” I’d been that woman last night, and I had no doubt he’d have others lining up to take that deal all day long. “Gotcha.”

  “Charli,” he said, his face falling into a pensive mask. “I tried like hell to have the fairy tale. I wanted the wife and kids. Wanted it so bad I kept trying over and over and over again, even when it became painfully obvious that dream wasn’t for me.”

  “It wasn’t for you because…?” I knew I was pushing harder than I had any right to, but I was dying to know. “You didn’t think you could have it or realized you didn’t want it anymore. Big difference, you know.”

  “If I found the perfect girl tomorrow, would I be willing to take that risk again?” He shook his head slowly. “No. I just couldn’t. Call me a coward, but this past year has been brutal. I don’t know, maybe I care too much what people think, but bein’ torn to shreds ‘cause you can’t keep a woman happy—”

  “I call bullshit.” I heard what people said about him and would bet the last dollar in my bank account that no man could have kept those piranhas he called partners happy. “I don’t think you’d have any problem keeping the right woman happy.”

  “The right woman?” he echoed. “And who might that be?”

  I certainly wasn’t suggesting myself, if that’s what he thought. “I don’t know, someone who doesn’t care about your money. A girl who has her priorities straight, who wants the same things you do.” I glanced around. “Who understands your lifestyle and likes her own company enough that she could handle you being on the road a good chunk of the year.”

  “You’re right, that does sound pretty perfect.” His eyes were downcast when he said, “If I had it to do all over again, I’d probably have picked someone like that from the start.” His eyes finally met mine when he said, “And she’d have wanted kids, because…” His voice cracked, surprising me, “Cause that’s probably my biggest regret. Not having kids.”

  Aww, my heart broke for him, because he really believed he no longer had that option. “Dade, listen to me.” I stepped up to him, taking the beer bottle out of his hand and setting it down on the counter before I closed my fingers around his chin, forcing him to look at me. “I know I don’t know you all that well, but I don’t have to.” I tapped
his chest. “I see what’s in your heart. You’re a good man. You deserve to be happy. Don’t let those bitches or the goddamn rags steal that from you.”

  “Your turn,” he whispered softly, his eyes still trapping mine. “Tell me about your ideal man.”

  “Oh, I, uh…” I took a step back, trying to remember how to breathe. “I’m honestly not sure I have one.”

  “Then let me take a stab at it.” He crossed his arms, studying me. “You were pretty accurate with mine, let’s see if I’m half as good as you are.”

  Since I had nothing to lose, I raised my hand, gesturing to him. “By all means, have at it.”

  “He’s creative.” He bit his lip, his eyes travelling down my body. “Fun, adventurous.”

  I laughed, before clapping my hand over my mouth because I was pretty sure he’d picked up on the adventurous part from our bedroom antics. His dirty smirk told me I was right, before I said, “Sorry, you’re off to a good start. Go on.”

  “He’s a tough guy. He’d have to be to stand up to your old man.”

  Yeah, I wasn’t noticing his bulging, inked biceps at all when he said that. “Uh huh. What else?”

  “He has to have a good sense of humour because you love to laugh.”

  I’d never had that in a relationship before and hearing him say it made me realize how much I wanted someone I could laugh with. “Hmm, right again. You’re pretty good at this, Jarvis.”

  “You want someone who’ll take care of you…” When I started to protest, he said, “I’m not talking about money, Charli. I’m talking about having someone to lean on, like when your dad was in the hospital.” His eyes were intense when he said, “You can’t tell me it didn’t hurt when Knox showed up to comfort your sister, and you had no one.”

  I sucked in a breath, because I never would have told anyone that I’d fought back tears watching my sister with the man she loved. I was so happy that they’d finally admitted their feelings, after years of friend-zoning each other, but it made me realize how much I wanted what they had.

  “And you want someone who is man enough to let you take care of him.”

  Again, he wasn’t talking about money. I could tell that he’d touched on something deeper, a secret longing to be strong, with a man who was even stronger. “How do you know that?”

  “Because that’s what you wanted to do for me last night,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “You actually said that when you were leading me up to the bedroom, that you wanted to help me get out of my head for a while. That you wanted to help me relax, to take care of me.”

  My cheeks burned as the memory of those words filtered through my mind. Damn. I’d said exactly that… that I wanted to take care of him. What the hell was that about? I barely knew this man, yet I felt like I’d known him for years. As a teenager, locked away in my bedroom, staring at his pictures, listening to his songs, watching his interviews. Learning about what made him special.

  Ugh. I was creeping myself out. I wasn’t some obsessed fan who’d pulled a fast one to get close to him. I was someone who’d met him by coincidence and just happened to enjoy his music. Okay, so maybe I’d had a celebrity crush, but that was totally normal. It’s not like I stalked the guy on social media or sent him cryptic emails about how we belonged together.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning. “You have this look on your face, like you’re pissed off about something.”

  Ugh. How the hell could he read me like that? He was an intuitive guy, I reasoned, like most creative types. “I guess I’m a little disgusted with myself.” Full disclosure, because I had nothing to hide, if it embarrassed me to admit the truth.

  “I guess what you just said kind of weirded me out a little, that’s all.”

  “What’re you talkin’ about?”

  “I don’t even know you.” I narrowed my eyes, daring him to challenge me. “I’m not supposed to care enough to want to make you feel better. I shouldn’t give a shit how you feel.” I was gesturing toward him, self-disgust dripping from every word. “The only reason I do, I guess, is because this stupid crush I’ve had on you forever makes me think I know you, but I don’t.”

  “Why does it make you angry?” He took a step closer, closing his hands around my upper arms. “Why is it so hard to admit that you had a thing for me, even before we met?”

  “Because it’s stupid and childish, and I’m neither.” It wouldn’t be so bad if I’d let it die like any teenage fangirl crush should, but I’d remained a fan of his music and continued going to his concerts like an idiot, hoping he’d notice me. Except he did notice me. He’d even had someone go after me. Why?

  He picked me up, depositing me on a stool at the breakfast bar as I yelped in surprise.

  “Listen to me.” His voice was stern, and his eyes were dark and searching when he said, “I’ve been surrounded by groupies for a long time. I can sniff one out a mile away. And sweetheart, you ain’t no groupie. And I’d never mistake you for one.”

  I believed him. When he looked at me, he didn’t see a groupie, or a silly fan girl. He saw a woman. Maybe one he was attracted to and would want to date, if he felt free to pursue a relationship.

  “Tell me something,” I said, hoping he would answer me honestly.

  “Okay.”

  “If you’d been able to track me down that night at your concert, what then?”

  A pained expression crossed his face before he said, “The past year might not have happened. Had I met you before I met her…” He swore softly. “Let’s just say I doubt there would have been a her.”

  Her. His ex-fiancée. The woman who had a total meltdown at one of his concerts because he’d invited a girl up onstage with him. A girl who was getting married, celebrating her impending nuptials with her bridal party. Yet his crazy ex stormed the stage and tried to start a fight with her, claiming the bride-to-be wanted her man.

  “Sometimes I wish we could get a do-over, don’t you?”

  His smile was sad when he said, “Yeah, I do. Right about now I’d give just about anything for a do-over.” He hesitated. “But one thing I wouldn’t take back? What happened between us last night. I don’t care what I said, sweetheart, that definitely wasn’t a mistake.”

  Chapter 4

  Dade

  Since it was getting late, we finally ordered a pizza instead of cooking and were waiting for Charli’s mama to drop off a suitcase for her while we ate it.

  “I’m sorry about this, Dade.” She shook her head as she tore her crust into bite-sized pieces. “I still don’t know how the hell she managed to invite herself over. One minute I was telling her about this temporary gig working for you, because of paps crawling all over their house, and the next thing I know she’s telling me to sit tight, she’ll be right over with some of my things. Barely let me get a word in before she was screeching at me to text the address ‘cause she’d be out the door in five.”

  I chuckled at how distraught she seemed. Her mama was a riot. She’d been cozying up to me at her eldest daughter’s wedding, telling me to pay her husband no mind, ‘cause she just knew Charli was the perfect woman for me. And Charli’s daddy would come around eventually. I tried to tell her there was nothing between us, but she merely patted my arm and winked, like she knew better.

  “Don’t worry about her.” I laughed. “I’m used to meddlin’ mamas tryin’ to set me up with their daughters.”

  She groaned, palming her forehead. “But you’ve never met one like my mama. She’s got this fool idea in her head that you’d ‘take care of me,’ if we were together,” she said, making air quotes around the words. “Like I can’t take care of myself!” She slammed her hand against the quartz island. “Seriously! How’s that for a slap in the face, huh? My own mama thinks I need some rich man to take care of me ‘cause I’m too—”

  I got in her face, distracting her with my close proximity, though our lips weren’t quite touching. “I think you’re cute when you get all riled up.”

&n
bsp; “Oh shut up!” She pushed against my shoulder, stifling a laugh. “And don’t you dare egg her on when she gets here either!” Wagging a finger in my face, she added, “I mean it, if she finds out about last night, I mean, what happened after everyone left, she’ll go bat-shit crazy.”

  “Hmmm.” I leaned in again, whispering in her ear, “Are you talkin’ about the six, or was that seven times I made you come for me?”

  She gasped before her cheeks flamed and she pushed me away. “You did not just say that! Wait, you were keeping track of how many orgasms I had? Why? Is that a matter of personal pride or something, makes you more of a man to—”

  I laughed when the doorbell rang and she dropped her head, chin to chest. I’d called the gatehouse and told them to send her mama up when she arrived, even though Charli wanted to insist she leave the bag with the security guard.

  I opened the door with Charli following reluctantly behind. “Hey, Aidy.” She’d insisted I call her by her first name, which made sense, since she already treated me like a life-long friend. “Come on in.”

  “Mama,” Charli said between clenched teeth as she was swept up in her mother’s arms. “Thanks for bringing the bag by. You really didn’t have to.” She gave me the stink-eye when I closed the door and smirked. “But you should probably be getting home now, don’t you think? I know you don’t like to drive at night after the cataracts surgery.”

  “Nonsense,” Aidy said, waving her hand dismissively. “I can see just fine. It’s your daddy who doesn’t like me drivin’ at night. Says I’m as blind as a bat. Damn fool man.”

  I was trying hard to keep a straight face, but it wasn’t easy. I cleared my throat. “Aidy, can I get you a drink?”

  “My my,” she said, ignoring me as she walked through the house, peering into every room. “This is nice, isn’t it? You live here all alone, Dade?”

  “No Mama,” Charli said, rolling her eyes. “It’s Dade and the sister wives.”

  I chuckled before covering my mouth with my hand when Charli shot me a warning look. “Uh yeah, Aidy. Just me.”