Dirty Mind (Nashville Outlaws #2)

by Cheryl Douglas

  “Of course.” She reached for a notepad and pen. “I should have brought my tablet in to make notes, but this will do for now. I’m sure you have tech support on your team. Is there someone managing your social media presence now?”

  “Uh, yeah. Someone the label assigned. I post stuff too, but I’d like to have more control than I do now. I just haven’t had the time to get it together.”

  “Understood,” she said, making notes. She pulled a pair of black-framed tortoiseshell glasses out of her shirt pocket and slipped them on.

  I was completely done. I thought she’d looked sexy before, but every dirty librarian fantasy I’d had as a teen just reared its ugly head as I watched her draw her lush lower lip between her teeth as she continued making notes.

  “Something wrong?” she asked, looking up at me.

  You look hot as hell and I want to throw you down on that desk and... I quashed the urge to tell her what was really on my mind as I muttered, “Just thinking about all the ground we need to cover.”

  “Then I guess you should get to work, huh?” she asked, gesturing at my computer screen. “The sooner you get me that info I need the sooner we can get started.”

  I closed my eyes as I turned away. I had a feeling Charli would be the best assistant I’d ever had. She was smart, seemed organized and efficient, and I knew her salary with me would probably be twice as much as she’d earned freelancing, so she’d work hard to keep it. But how the hell was I supposed to handle seeing her every day, wanting her and knowing I couldn’t have her?

  I printed off the information she needed and passed it to her. “Give me your email and I’ll send you all this info too. Probably should have done that in the first place.” If my brain had been firing on all cylinders.

  She rhymed off her email as she scanned the pages I’d given her. “I do some website design too,” she said. “So, if you need me to update events or add pics to your site, that’s not a problem.”

  “Great.” Was there anything she couldn’t do, to make my life easier? How the hell was she fitting so seamlessly into my world, like she belonged here, even though I knew she didn’t? “I’ll uh, get you an email address too, for professional purposes.”

  “Sounds good.” She looked up and smiled. “I see you’re doing a cruise with your fans next month. That should be fun, huh?”

  “You should come.” A week on a cruise ship with her, in the Bahamas? I could think of worse things. “Maybe you could sing a few songs with me.”

  Her eyes were wide as she shook her head. “What? No way. I’m not polished enough to sing with you. Your fans are paying a lot of money for that experience. I wouldn’t want to do anything to ruin that.”

  “Ruin it?” I chuckled. “Honey, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ve got a killer voice. My fans would love you.” Love. Damn it, that was the last word I needed to be throwing around right now.

  “Thanks, but I don’t think I’m ready for that. Maybe when I have more practice playing in front of a crowd.” She shrugged. “But if you need me to come as your assistant, of course I will.”

  I’d just wrapped up a tour, but I was headlining plenty of music festivals over the next year while I retreated to the studio to work on my next album, so there would still be plenty of travel. And I wanted her with me.

  “Good, and if you have a look at that line-up,” I said, gesturing to the schedule I gave her, “you can assume I’ll need you for those dates too. I usually fly in a day before and leave a day after, depending on what else is going out at the time.”

  “Dade,” she said, sounding hesitant. “We talked about this being a temporary gig, right? Don’t you think we should give it a month or so, make sure it’s gonna work before we start making any long-term plans?”

  I didn’t know why it bothered me that she had an exit strategy in mind. She was right, we’d talked about this being a temporary gig. An answer to her immediate problems. But I suddenly wanted to be the guy who helped solve all of her problems.

  “Let’s just assume, as long as this works for both of us, we’re committed.”

  We’re committed. I imagined what it would be like, to be committed to Charli. My hand drifted to her bare left hand and I imagined my ring there. Not the huge gaudy diamonds I’d bought for other women. Something beautiful, but understated, like the girl herself.

  What the hell was I doing, thinking about engagement rings again? I must be losing my mind!

  “As long as it doesn’t involve a contract,” she said, “I’m good with that.”

  “You don’t want to sign a contract?” Most of my employees did. Non-disclosure and privacy was a requirement and she would be dealing with a lot of sensitive personal information. “Why?”

  She licked her lips before sliding her glasses off. “I’m just not sure how long you’re gonna want me around. And I’m not sure you are either. So I think it’s best if we just take this one day at a time for now.”

  She was throwing up walls to protect herself and I couldn’t say I blamed her. She had every reason to want to protect herself from me and my mess.

  My song writing session that afternoon was with Archer and Reed, at Archer’s place in the country. Reed and I were both signed to Titan Records and our label wanted a collaboration on our next albums. We figured we’d haul in our good buddy Archer to brainstorm with us. But my heart and head were back home with Charli and my friends could tell.

  “What’s with you today?” Reed asked me, kicking his booted feet up on the leather ottoman in Archer’s home studio. “You’ve been quiet.” He flashed his phone with a shit-eating grin. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact you and that little hottie are still blowin’ up Twitter, would it?” He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “#MrsDadeJarvis4.”

  “Assholes,” I muttered. I didn’t know if I was talking about the trolls or my friends right now. Maybe I was just pissed off at the world in general. “I’ve only been married twice, not three times, for the record.”

  Archer laughed. “Who can keep track?”

  “Shut up!” I threw a balled-up piece of paper at him, eyeing the glass globe on the corner of a boardroom table we’d been working at. “Unless you want me to fire that thing next.”

  “Relax,” he said, raising his hands in submission. “No need to get violent. We’re your buddies, it’s our job to bust your balls.”

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. Sometimes hanging out with my friends was worse than babysitting a couple of kids, not that I’d ever know what that was like. My gut clenched as I thought of Charli and the words that seemed to crush any interest she had in me.

  “Sky’s playin’ at Jimmy’s tonight,” Reed said. “We should go check her out.” He nodded towards Reed. “Drag this guy along so he can see what he’ll be missin’ out on if he doesn’t collaborate with her.”

  “I ain’t missin’ out on shit,” Archer said, taking a long pull of his water. “I already got the best in the business beatin’ down my door. Ain’t gotta pimp my songs anymore. So why the hell would I wanna work with a little nobody like her?”

  It wasn’t like Archer to shoot down talent like that, so I knew there had to be something we were missing. I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s the deal, man? You and Sky got history we don’t know about?”

  He swiped a hand over his face when the color rose in his cheeks. “Not likely.”

  Reed laughed, clapping his hands together before pointing at Archer. “You do! Son of a bitch. You banged her, didn’t ya?”

  Archer closed his eyes before sinking back in his swivel chair. “You guys ever breathe a word of this and I will kill you.” He glanced at the locked gun collection encased in glass lining his wall. “We, uh, hooked up a couple of years back. I was goin’ through a rough time, she just dumped her boyfriend, and we met at a bar. She was there with some friends, so was I.” He shrugged. “We left together. End of story.”

  Reed smiled. “So? How was it?” He cu
rled his fingers, begging Archer to give it up. “She’s a little firecracker on stage. Does that translate to the bedroom or what?”

  “Like I’d ever tell you,” Archer said, scowling in disgust. “You work with the girl. You’re friends. And you’re a horndog. I tell you the deal and you’ll be all over her.”

  “And that would bother you because…?” Reed asked, raising an eyebrow. “Could it be you’re still into her?”

  Reed held up one finger. “It was one time, asshole. A goddamn one-night stand. She hit the road the next day and I never heard from her again.”

  “Until you got a call asking you to work on this album with her?” I asked. “Who called you? Her or Evan?” Evan Spencer was the C.E.O. of our label. A good guy we all considered a friend, and Titan had just signed Sky, so I knew Evan would call in all his favors to make sure she hit the ground running.

  “Got calls from both of them,” Archer said, popping a stick of gum in his mouth. “And ignored them both. I freelance for a reason. I write the songs I wanna write.” He pointed a finger at his chest. “Work with the artists I wanna work with. Don’t need no goddamn label breathin’ down my neck. Even if it is Ev.”

  I couldn’t blame my buddy for feeling the way he did. He’d served in the military for years. Two terms of active duty. Came close to dying, lost several of his brothers, came home battling the effects of PTSD. Money didn’t mean shit to him, even though he’d made a boatload writing the songs every big artist in the business wanted to record.

  “I think you should put your personal feelings aside,” Reed said. “You ever heard the girl sing, man? She’s good. Real good. You’d love her style. I think y’all could write a killer album together.”

  “Too busy,” Archer said, crossing his arms over his chest. “No interest in workin’ with some little girl with a brand to build and a point to prove.”

  “I think your ego took a hit when she walked out on you,” I said, knowing my friend would challenge me the same way if I was running scared. Which I kind of was, but Archer didn’t know that yet. “And you’re punishing her because you’re still pissed.” I hooked a thumb at Reed. “This guy’s right for once. You need to put that shit aside. Work with the girl.”

  Archer looked from me to Reed and back again. “Why do you two give a shit what I do? You’ve never pushed me to work with another artist before. Why her?”

  My friend had been living in his own little world since he came back to the States. Living outside of the city. Working from home. On the periphery of the scene. Hanging out in small groups. Not taking too many risks. Sleeping with women who were easy and knew the score. Someone like Sky would challenge him to step out of his comfort zone and I knew he needed that.

  “Sky’s a good girl,” Reed said. “Sweet, sexy, funny, talented as hell.”

  “You like her so much, you go out with her,” Archer said, glaring at him.

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  I knew Reed was baiting him. He was still too hung up on his ex to date anyone else.

  “Why the hell would I mind?” Archer said, between clenched teeth. “I already told you, it was one time, two years ago. Believe me, I’ve been with plenty of girls since then.”

  “But none of them were like Sky.”

  I sucked in a breath, knowing how fast things could escalate when these two started going at it. They loved each other like family and fought like brothers too.

  “She got under your skin.”

  “Fuck off, Harris.” Archer fisted one hand in the other, cracking his knuckles. “Your ex is buried so deep under your skin you’d have to shed it like a goddamn snake to be rid of her.”

  “Okay, I said,” leaning forward before things got out of hand. “Enough. We’ve got work to do. Let’s get back at it.”

  “So, we goin’ to Jimmy’s tonight?” Reed asked, re-claiming his spot at the table.

  “I think you got your nights mixed up,” I told him. “Charli told me she and some friends are playing at Jimmy’s tonight.”

  “I didn’t know she was a singer,” Archer said. “She any good?”

  “Crazy good.” Every time I thought about her sitting behind that piano, singing my song, I wanted to hear it again. “You should hear her.”

  “We will,” Reed said. “Because we’re all goin’ to Jimmy’s tonight.”

  I didn’t think Charli would appreciate me showing up to watch her and I didn’t want to make her nervous. Not to mention the speculation if I showed up, like I was there to support her… as her boyfriend. Not that I’d mind if her friend Max and the drunken cowboys who’d inevitably be hitting on her thought we were a thing.

  “Did I say I’m going?” Archer asked, frowning.

  “No.” Reed grinned. “I said you were.”

  I shook my head. “How do you know Sky’s gonna be there tonight?”

  “She posted it online. I think it was a last minute thing. She’s just gonna sing a few songs.”

  “Cover songs, no doubt,” Archer said, rolling his eyes. “Not like she has any of her own.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked him. “You been following her career?”

  “No,” he snapped.

  Reed and I looked at each other and laughed before Reed rubbed his hands together and said, “Can’t wait to watch this go down.”

  Chapter 9

  Charli

  I was nervous as hell. Jimmy’s was an institution in Nashville, not the kind of place I should be cutting my teeth in front of a live audience. But Max kept telling me I was gonna be great, and it was too late to back out now.

  There was a knock at the dressing room door. I was alone, since the guys were hauling their instruments in from the van.

  I opened the door a crack and sucked in a breath when I saw Dade standing on the other side. He hadn’t been home by the time I left his house, so I wasn’t even sure he’d remembered my gig.

  “Hey,” I said, stepping back to let him in. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I hope this is okay?” He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his faded, ripped jeans. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, but a friend of ours is playing here tonight too. Skylar?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I heard she’s gonna play a few after our set. She opened for you, right?”

  He smiled. “Yeah, she’s great.”

  I had no right or reason to feel jealous, but that didn’t stop the ugly green bitch from rearing her head anyway. “Won’t you being here just kind of fuel the fire though? You know, make people speculate even more that we’re a thing?”

  “I thought about that,” he said, nodding. “And if you want me to go I will—”

  “I don’t.” It would be nice having a friendly face in the crowd. Even if that’s all Dade and I could ever be. Friends. “It’s fine.” I drew a deep breath, rolling my neck. “I honestly don’t know how the hell you play in front of fifty thousand people every night. I think I’d faint.”

  He chuckled as he moved in behind me and started massaging my shoulders. “You get used to it.”

  Okay, that felt nice. And it was doing wonders to relax me. “You’re good at this.”

  “I’m good at a lot of things, beautiful,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Don’t I know it.” The words popped out before I could sensor them, but he laughed. I was glad we’d moved past the awkward tension we’d tried to ignore after… the shower. If we were going to work together, we had to be able to keep it light, to tease and laugh, that’s the only way this arrangement could work for me.

  The door flew open and Max frowned when he spotted us. “Hey, sorry. Didn’t know you had company.”

  “No problem.” I stepped away from Dade. “Uh Max, you remember my friend, Dade?” Like he wasn’t a household name. “He’s friends with Skylar too. She, uh, opened for him on his last tour. So he thought he’d come and catch up with her.” I didn’t know why I was rambling or making excuses for Dade being there. I didn’t owe Max an e
xplanation.

  Dade was clearly questioning that too because he raised an eyebrow before he said to Max, “I cut my teeth here. J.T. McCall’s a good friend of mine. You ever played here before?”

  “Yeah,” Max said. “Me and my band have played here a couple of times. Always a good crowd. Nice people.”

  Dade smiled. “Yeah, hell of a lot better than some of the honky-tonks I played back when I had a rusted-out pick-up, fake I.D., and no other options.”

  Max’s smile was grudging when he said, “Bet you have some crazy stories to tell, huh?”

  Dade nodded. “Sure do. Come by my table when you’re done. I’ll introduce you to my buddies, buy you a beer. They can tell you just as many crazy stories as I can.” He chuckled. “Of course I can’t promise they’ll all be true.”

  What the hell was happening here? Max and Dade were bonding? I didn’t know how I felt about that. Max was my friend. And Dade was… my boss. My friend? My lover? I didn’t even know what the hell to call him anymore.

  Dade squeezed my shoulder and winked before he said, “You’ll be great tonight, girl. Just sing for them like you did for me and they’ll be eatin’ it up.”

  “Thanks.” If I could impress someone like Dade, surely I could impress some half-drunk bar patrons. “I’ll catch up with you after the show?” I didn’t know why but I wanted confirmation that he’d be sticking around.

  “Count on it.” He shook Max’s hand as he passed him. “I meant what I said. You should both stop by when you’re through. Let me buy you a beer.”

  “We’ll do that,” Max said. “Thanks, man.”

  He waited until Dade left before he closed the door. “Okay, I’ll admit I really didn’t wanna like him, but he seems like a nice guy. Really down to earth, huh?”

  “He is.” Sometimes I forgot that he was a rich and famous musician. Except when we were at his house. The multimillion-dollar estate and half a million-dollar car collection was a stark reminder of his success.

  “You’re crazy about him, aren’t you?”