“Uh, game of what?” she asked, crunching into one of the celery sticks.
“You know, baseball? Our team, the One-oh-three Wranglers?” He thumbed in Tack’s direction. “Didn’t you know he signed you both up to play?”
Tack looked up apologetically. “Oh yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that.”
She smirked. “Gee, thanks, partner.”
“No problem, partner.” He chuckled, discarding the chicken bone he’d just nibbled bare and reaching for another saucy morsel.
“I’m going to make up the practice roster this weekend. What position do you play?” Jared asked.
“Put me in at shortstop. No wait, make it third. A guy may be able to get to second base, but there’s no way I’m gonna let him just slide his way into third.”
Tack coughed. With an impish smile, Dayna handed him a napkin. He wiped his mouth and cleared his throat. “When’s our next cut in, kid?”
Jared flipped through the pages of the station log. “There’s one more coming up during the quarter-to break.”
She pointed at him. “You can take it.”
“I’d much rather do it with you,” he said with a sly wink. By the flash in her eyes, she’d obviously picked up what he was putting down. She licked her plump lips slick and shiny and suddenly, they became the center of his universe.
The kid kept his head down, oblivious to everything around him as he studied the log. “Yeah, that’d be swell if you could do that last one together,” he said. “I want to get a few photos of you to upload to the station website.”
She wiggled her eyebrows and silently mouthed, “Ooh, photos.”
Tack stopped himself from laughing. “Dirty,” he mouthed back.
“You like it.” She grinned and lifted her beer.
He stared at her luscious mouth as she pressed her lips against the top of her bottle and took a sip, not blinking until she put it down on the table again. His eyes then locked on hers as he brushed his foot up against her leg under the table to see if she’d pull away. She didn’t. Hmm. She seemed to like it too.
* * * *
“If you’re not already at Suds ‘n’ Spuds night at the Roadhouse, then you’ve wasted a perfectly good Friday night,” Tack said during the last cut-in. “Luckily, there’s still specials on ’til one AM and if you get down here within the next five minutes, you still have a chance to snag our last pair of tickets to the sold-out Rascal Flatts show.”
Dayna jumped in. “You got it, Tack. I’m in possession of not one, but two of the hottest tickets in town, and until we can give them to a lucky listener, I’ve securely tucked them away somewhere on my person.”
He grinned, snaking his arm around her waist to pull her close. “Are you saying that a body search comes as part of the prize?”
“Only if it’s one reeeally lucky listener, so sorry, you don’t qualify.” She laughed and gave him a playful shove.
“You heard the lady, guys. If that’s not incentive to race down here, I don’t know what is. So meet us down here at the Roadhouse on West Broad Street.”
“For the handsome and suddenly very handsy Tack Collins, I’m Dayna Cook. Now back to more continuous country hits on Hot Country One-oh-three.”
She waited for Jared’s signal, then slipped off her headphones. “Funny, Tack, real funny.”
“You’re cute as hell when you play hard to get, you know that?”
She batted her lashes. “Of course I do, I’m a girl.”
He cinched her waist tight again and leaned down to her ear. “Just remember you dance with the one who brung ya,” he said, his voice dipping with a tease of Midwestern drawl. His beard mercilessly brushed her cheek and she felt her knees buckle.
“You’re my only ride tonight, cowboy,” she whispered, fighting back the powerful urge to kiss him good and hard right then.
Tack turned down the music and grabbed the microphone. “I’m looking for five players for a little game we like to call Aural Fixation,” he announced. A wave of women surged forward, begging to be chosen.
“Hey now, let’s make this fair.” Dayna held up two fingers in protest. “No less than two guys.”
“Okay, guys, Dayna’s on the hunt for a couple of good men,” he called out to the huge group of rowdies hanging out around the bar. “Any takers in the house?”
“Show us your tits first!” One hollered back.
“Hey, watch it, fella,” Tack barked back. “Or at least say please first.” He put down the mike and started unbuttoning the front of his shirt. The crowd went wild with cheers and wolf whistles, including a loud one from Dayna, who was duly impressed with how he’d quickly and cleverly defended her honor.
Three girls and two guys lined up for the game. After hearing a quick snippet of music, they had to buzz in to correctly name the song and artist. The last player standing, a dude with an impressively large handlebar mustache, won the concert tickets for correctly guessing She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy.
Dayna sauntered over to the edge of the stage, reaching into the front of her dress to produce the two tickets she’d hidden inside.
“That’s a mighty fine pair she’s got, hey buddy?” Tack prodded, holding the microphone up to the guy’s face. “The tickets, man, I meant the tickets.”
The winner looked at the tickets in his hand and then back up at Dayna. “You come with these, sweet thing? I’d love to take you to the show with me.”
“I really wish I could but I’m afraid I’m working that night,” she tsk-tsked, handing him a Hot Country 103 t-shirt in consolation. “Sorry.”
“Hey, Joe! Maybe you should take your wife!” Someone yelled from across the room, followed by a jolt of laughter.
Tack patted him on the back. “Sounds like solid advice, Joe. If you don’t take your wife to the concert, you may wind up on the couch for a night. But if she finds out you took a babe like Dayna, you could end up in the doghouse for a looong time.”
He hopped back up on the platform. “Well, folks, that’s it for us. Thanks, and remember to tune in to Wake Up with Tack and Dayna weekday mornings on Hot Country One-oh-three. Goodnight, get home safe.”
Boot Scootin’ Boogie kicked the music into high gear again. Tack started packing the remote kit while Dayna folded the headphones.
“I can wrap things up here, Mr. Collins,” Jared said as he wound a black electrical cord around his fist. “And I’ll drop the remote kit off at the station in the morning.”
“You sure, kid?”
Jared nodded. “Yeah, I got it covered. Piece of cake.”
She looked at Tack and shrugged. If the kid wanted to do the work and score a few brownie points, so be it. The faster they get out of there, the better.
“Um, excuse me, Dayna, could you just uh…pass that over?” Jared pointed to the microphone behind her. She went to retrieve it and in the split second she had her back turned, Tack had been swarmed by a frenzied group of devotees again.
She nudged Jared’s arm. “Jeez, you’d think we were working with Burt Reynolds or something.”
“Who?”
“Burt Reynolds. You know, Smokey and the Bandit?”
Jared drew a blank.
“Cannonball Run?”
He shook his head and shrugged.
“Played the porn director in Boogie Nights?”
“Oh hey, yeeeah.” He finally nodded in recognition. “I’ve seen that one.”
“Figures,” she muttered, watching Tack autograph their newspaper ad for a smoky-lidded cougar in pink leopard print. She spotted Dayna and attempted to ward her off with a snarling evil eye. Resigned to the fact that Mr. Popular wasn’t getting out of there anytime soon, Dayna stepped down from the platform. She zigzagged through the bar crowd toward the office where her belongings had been stored for safekeeping.
Liz unlocked the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet and pulled out her purse. “You sounded real good tonight. Thanks for helping bring in such a great crowd.”
&nb
sp; “Well, thanks, but we both know Tack deserves the credit,” she sighed. “You were right. All the girls here really do love him.”
Liz shut the cabinet again and twisted the keys counterclockwise. “I was also right when I told you not to worry about it,” she said, twirling her finger to direct Dayna to turn around.
Tack leaned against the doorjamb, casually holding his hat in front of him. “You ready to go or are you gonna keep me waiting out here all night?”
* * * *
They escaped out the side door instead of braving the rowdy masses again. Tack breathed in the fresh night air, slowly releasing a long sigh of relief as the noisy crowd and pounding music gradually gave way to the sound of gravel crunching under their feet. He looked over at Dayna, walking in step next to him with a faint smile on her face. Imagining what she might be thinking about made him smile too.
“Guess I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but I met this amazing girl,” he said, finally breaking the silence.
Her smile disappeared. “Oh?”
“Yeah, she’s a real beauty. Funny. Smart. Sexy as hell. The total package.”
“Well.” Her voice was tight and noticeably chilly. “Good for you.”
“I’m dying to get to know her better. But you see, I’ve got this problem.” He glanced sideways. “She has a thing against dating the radio guys she works with.”
Her smile slowly crept back up again. “Hmm, that is a problem.”
“I was wondering if you might have some advice for me, ’cause I think I could really like this one.” He unlocked the truck, quickly propping his arm against the passenger door to prevent Dayna from climbing in too fast. His heart pounding, he put his hand on her waist, closing the gap between them. She finally looked up. The lights of the bar signage danced in her eyes and cast her lovely face in a soft, alluring glow.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” she said. “She sounds like nothing but trouble.”
“Oh, this girl’s gonna be trouble all right. But you see, the thing is, I can’t get her out of my head.” His fingers feathered her cheek and she nestled against his palm. Drawn to her beautiful mouth, he leaned in until they were barely a whisper apart, yet not touching. “I wish there was some way to get her to reconsider.”
“Maybe I can talk some sense into her,” she said, her words a breathy sigh.
His eyes closed, surrendering to the moment as he caressed her rose-petal soft lips open with the lightest of kisses. Her divine mouth moved against his and he felt a heated surge of excitement as she circled his neck, inviting him nearer. You’re like no one else, he thought as their fusing kiss deepened, teasing, tasting, wanting more. The desire building deep in his bones, he gathered her closer as all rational thinking gave way to delicious intoxication. He memorized her supple lips and tongue before moving to the sweet warmth of her neck, making her sigh with pleasure. The music and the traffic and time itself all vanished as he hungrily claimed her mouth again, hopelessly losing himself in the soft sensuality of the woman in his arms. Gradually, their enveloping kisses slowed to delicate licks and tender brushes against one another. He was lightheaded, needing to catch his breath and regain his balance.
“Wow. We definitely need to do a lot more of that,” she said with a sexy rasp.
“You want to come back to my place?”
“Yes, I do, very much.” She nodded, tracing his tingling lips with the tip of her finger. “But we can’t yet. It’s too soon.”
She had a point. As much as he was wildly attracted to her and she obviously showed interest in taking this further, he also knew that rushing might spoil it. After all, good things came to those willing to wait and, by God, Dayna Cook was one of the best things to come along in ages. “Okay.” He conceded with a smile.
“But you can still take me home and stay for a nightcap,” she said, nuzzling his cheek. She slowly made her way back to his lips, tickling them with her tongue, inviting his out to play. “I might even let you make out with me on the porch for a while.”
Softly laughing as they pulled apart, he unlatched the passenger side door and held it open. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”
* * * *
Dayna took it as a good sign that CJ’s Firebird wasn’t parked out front. That meant he’d given up waiting for her and gone out. She climbed the front steps with Tack following closely behind. “I’d invite you in, but it just so happens that my boudoir is the couch on the other side of that door.” She teased him with a smile. “I wouldn’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
“You’ve been filling my head with wrong ideas since I met you. Why hold back now?” He stroked her arm, leaving a tingly trail of goose bumps. “Is numb nuts inside?”
“No, I don’t think he’s home. Which makes it a very good time to pilfer his beer,” she said. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
She unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Ceege?” she called out tentatively. “You home?” With the coast clear, she quickly padded across the kitchen floor and pulled two cold beers from the fridge. She returned to the porch where Tack had made himself at home on the swing. Handing him one of the longnecks, she sat beside him and nestled under his outstretched arm.
He twisted off his bottle cap with a hiss. “It must be weird living here with him.”
She nodded. “Today, CJ saw our billboard and suddenly–ding-dong!–decided that dumping me might not have been such an Einstein move after all.”
“He wants you back?”
“So he says, but only because he’s jealous of you. Screw him.”
“I can’t say I blame the guy. I mean, if I was the idiot who let you go, I’d be kicking my ass around the block too,” he said. “On the other hand, his dumb loss is some other lucky bastard’s gain, ain’t it?”
She lolled her head back and tipped a smile his way. “Then why don’t you kiss me already, you lucky bastard?”
He bent down and covered her mouth, taking her breath away as she parted her lips and softened against him. She switched her beer between hands, freeing one to hold and stroke his face as he played lightly with her tongue. You’re like no one else, she sighed, coming alive inside. Her fingers trailed along his softly bristled jaw, down to the pulsing at the base of his throat. She continued to the thatch of hair peeking out the front of his shirt, as she vividly recalled how good he looked without a shirt on at all. Her palm flattened against his warm skin, feeling his heart beating fast for her, before wandering across his hard chest and…
Her eyes flew open. She pulled back from their kiss, tugging the papers sticking out of Tack’s unbuttoned shirt pocket. “Hey now, what do we have here?”
“Nothing,” he said, trying but failing to snatch them back. “C’mon, it’s nothing.”
Turning away from his reach, she began unfolding the slips one by one. Well, whaddya know–each of them showed a girl’s name and phone number. “Stacie? Oh, and who’s this one from…Tanya? Was that the stacked redhead or the cougar in pink?” She smirked, peeling the last one open. “This one just says ‘FB.’ FB?” She searched her mind. “Fuck Buddy?”
“I didn’t get a chance to empty my pockets before we left.” He shrugged. “They mean nothing. Girls give me those all the time.”
“Oh they do, do they?”
“Yeah, and I throw most of them out.”
“Most of them.” She echoed. “Ooh, I wonder who’s going to make the final cut tonight? Because if I were you, I’d definitely hang on to FB’s number. You never know when it might come in handy.”
He put down his beer and swung her knees back toward him so they were face to face again. “Listen. When a hungry man’s salivating over a beautiful filet he wants but can’t have, sometimes he’ll settle for a hamburger.”
“Well, maybe a man shouldn’t have to settle,” she said, searching his eyes. “Maybe he needs to speak up and say exactly what it is that he wants.”
Tack grabbed the slips, tearing them in half with a fast
rip before tossing them over his shoulder. “This,” he said, cupping her face in both hands and tilting her up to meet his lips. “I want this.” He urgently fused his mouth to hers, kissing her long and deep enough to erase any trace of doubt in her mind. She fell helplessly into the heat of him as he licked further into her mouth, stoking a fire low in her belly that quickly spread and set her ablaze. She pried his fingers from her cheek and guided them down to her breast, aching for his touch. The exquisite relief she sought was right there in the palm of his hand, holding and kneading and squeezing until she became lightheaded from the want. He moaned into her kiss and she responded by arching her back, offering up more of her mouth and breast to him. To hell with waiting, let’s get naked. Her mind reeled, panting to catch up to the lusty rush of lava coursing through her body.
“Day…what th–?” CJ interrupted. They abruptly broke apart as he charged up the walk and stormed the porch, scowling at her before narrowing his eyes on Tack. “You? Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing out here?”
“Looks like I’m kissing your girlfriend, Chachi.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Dayna corrected. Her foggy head spun like she was high on a crazy love drug, her body ripening, her lips pulsing, her face tingling. She loved it.
“Right. Ex-girlfriend.” Tack nodded. “So why don’t you just mosey on inside and let us get back to what we were doing.”
CJ didn’t budge. “You told me you were going to work, Day.”
“I did. We just finished a remote.”
He stared down Tack. “You also said you weren’t sleeping with this scumbag.”
Now he was really pissing her off. “Not that it’s any of your damn business, but we haven’t slept together.” She fired back. “But I’m telling you right now, if he’s even half as good in bed as he is at kissing, we just may rattle some windows tonight.”
Tack arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Not to brag or anything, but I’m pretty fucking fantastic.”
She returned his smoldering stare, squeezing his solid thigh through the faded blue denim. “Mmm…I can’t wait to find out.”
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