She sat up and hugged her knees, releasing a long, quivering sigh from down deep in her soul. If only Tack wasn’t cut out of the exact same cloth as every other radio guy she’d been with, he might even someday make decent husband material. Ha! She smiled at that hokey idea. As if.
No, there was only one way this movie could possibly end. In a couple of weeks, they’d consummate a summer’s worth of pent-up sexual tension in one wild, head-banging, mind-blowing, heart-pounding explosion of passion and then everything would fizzle fast. No more chemistry. No more fun. And no more Tack, who would inevitably move on to his next gig in Atlanta or Amarillo or some other faraway market. The idea of saying goodbye to what they had together gutted her like a dull jackknife. So did the cold realization that, once again, instead of being the one to leave, she would be the one left behind by another gypsy-hearted radio man.
* * * *
A vivid night terror jolted Tack awake. His heart kicking like a jackrabbit in his chest, he looked over at the clock to see he’d been cheated out of the last twenty minutes of sleep.
He rolled over and tried to relax, but was haunted by visions of Dayna in a burning building. She leaned out a window at least four or five stories up, screaming for help amidst the billowing black smoke and flames licking up the walls. Sirens wailed and red lights flashed, but it was taking an eternity for the sluggish firefighters to move into action. “Get the ladder truck!” Tack yelled in desperation. They only stared back with ignorantly blank faces. “The Goddamn ladder truck! You’ve got to go up there and save her!” he pleaded as shrieks filled his ears.
Realizing he had no choice but to do the job himself, he rushed into the intensifying heat and held his arms open. “Jump! Jump! I’ll catch you!” he hollered, looking up to see that Dayna was now a scared little girl out on the ledge, her nightgown billowing around her bare feet. “Don’t look down. Just trust me!”
“No!” She yelped, her big brown eyes terrified as tears streamed down her cheeks. “You’re going to drop me.”
An inferno exploded behind her and he was panic stricken with fear and helplessness. “Jump! I’m here and I promise I’ll catch you.” He waved his arms higher. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“But you don’t know how!” She cried out, moments from being engulfed in flames. “You’re not a fireman…you’re a radio guy.”
The dream replayed again and again, her words pounding in his skull and ripping out his heart. You don’t know how… You don’t know how…
And then, suddenly, he did.
Tack threw off the blankets and groped the floor below for his sweatpants, pulling them on quickly. He rubbed one hand over his bleary eyes and raked it through his rumpled hair, plodding through the dark hallway into the kitchen. He flicked on the light and fought to pull out the junk drawer crammed tight with spare keys, matches, old instruction manuals, string and other essentials he might need someday. Rummaging through handfuls of rubber bands, shoelaces and take-out menus, he finally scored what he’d been seeking.
“Yes!” he cheered, victoriously flicking the business card against his palm. He set it out on the counter and smiled, certain that card would be the answer. It would show Dayna once and for all that he was nothing like that worm CJ or any of the other guys who’d really done her wrong. It would be the key to telling her that he’d be right there to catch her whenever she was finally ready to take the leap.
Chapter 13
Dayna sat in her car, trying to match the tempo of the Keith Urban ballad playing with the rhythmic blinking of her four-way flashers. The Aussie had to pick up the tempo a smidge if he was going to catch up.
Finally, the 4:02 crosstown express pulled up to the bus stop and Jared climbed out. She honked once and he waved, jogging over to meet her.
“Morning, Jared,” she said, stepping on the gas. “Thanks for agreeing to do this. It’s always more fun to have a partner in crime.”
“No problem,” he said, buckling his seat belt as the car pulled into early morning traffic and picked up speed. “Think we’ll be able to beat Mr. Collins to the station?”
“He arrives religiously at four thirty-two, so chances are slim that he’d suddenly pick today of all days to get there any earlier. But we can’t leave it to chance.”
“And you’re positive he doesn’t know that we know it’s his birthday?”
“One hundred and fifty percent positive. I got Myrna to pull his employment file just to be absolutely sure. He’s definitely forty-one today. As long as we play it cool like it’s just another day, he won’t catch on.”
“This is gonna be so awesome!” Jared cheered, punching his fists in the air.
“I know. I can’t wait to see his face.” She smiled, imagining Tack’s shock and awe. “Did you get our little project taken care of?”
“Yep. I sent the file you gave me to the instant printer and they assured me it would be ready to pick up after eight this morning.” Jared looked over his shoulder and spotted the cake in a box in the back seat. “Wow, you really made that?”
Dayna nodded. “With my own two hands, believe it or not.”
“He’s gonna freak. When are you letting the cat out of the bag?”
“I was thinking that when we do the celeb birthday roundup at quarter after nine, I’ll slip in his name, and that’ll be your cue to bring everyone into the control room.”
Jared nodded. “Nice.” They arrived at the station a few minutes later, relieved not to spot anyone else but the overnight operator’s Jeep in the lot. “Won’t Mr. Collins be suspicious if your car is here already?”
She put the car into park but left the engine running. “Gee, you’re right. How about you sneak inside with the cake and hide it downstairs for the time being? I’ll go get a coffee and wait it out until my usual time.”
With their sneaky plan solidified, Jared went inside the station.
Dayna did a quick U-turn and drove out of sight.
* * * *
Tack hoped he’d see Abel and was relieved to spot him pacing in the alley as soon as he drove up. “‘Morning, Abel.”
He waved back. “Hey, my friend. It’s good to see you.”
“You too. How are you today?”
“Not bad. Rain tonight. I can feel it down in my bones.”
Tack nodded. “I think they’re calling for showers later,” he said, when it occurred to him that rain might be a slight inconvenience to most, but was a major issue for someone who toted all their worldly belongings around in a shopping cart. “Do you have somewhere to go if the weather gets rough? Maybe the mission?”
Abel sat down on the blanket. “That’s one good thing about gettin’ old. When your pain’s tellin’ you there’s a storm comin’, you get in line early for a good bed.” He opened up the warm bag of food and pulled out the crisp twenty dollar bill Tack had slipped in. “My friend, you’ve made a mistake.”
“No mistake, that’s for you.”
“Is it Christmas? Is it my birthday?”
“Actually, it’s my birthday today.” Tack leaned back on the brick wall and squatted down low. “And I wanted to give you a present, so you have to accept it.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly, tucking it away as he shook his head in disbelief.
“I’d also like to ask a favor. A good friend of mine wants to meet you. It would mean a lot to me if you said it’d be okay to bring her out here later.”
“A lady friend?”
“She’s my partner here at the station. Her name is Dayna and she’s a real sweetheart. I know you’re really going to like her.”
“Is she pretty?”
Tack chuckled. “Hey now, Romeo, don’t go making a play for my girl. I don’t think I’d fare well in competition.”
Abel punched his arm. “Ah, so we ain’t talking good friend, she’s your girrrlfriend.”
“She’s very special to me. Let’s leave it at that,” he said with a smile. “But between us, I think maybe it was hearing ab
out you and Janine that got me thinking about white picket fences and all sorts of mushy stuff.”
“Sixteen beautiful years we were together and she’ll always be my lady.” Abel touched his hand to his chest as if his wife was still what made his heart beat. “You can’t waste no time settling down, my friend.”
Tack checked his watch. “Speaking of time, I’ve got to head inside. But we’ll come back and meet you right here around ten, okay?”
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Abel said as he bit into his egg sandwich.
* * * *
Dayna heard Tack in the alley and decided to wait for him out front. She smoothed down the back of her shorts and hopped up on the hood of her car. It was still warm from the engine purring beneath it, so she lay back and closed her eyes. When they opened a moment later, he was standing in front of her, both hands on her bare knees and a lecherous grin on his face. “Woman, you fill my head with all kinds of bad.”
“I told you long ago, I’m real good at being bad.” She parted her legs to accommodate him and when he lowered himself between them, she went mindless from the utterly wonderful sensation of his body on top of her. “Hey big boy, is that a microphone in your pocket or are you just real happy to see me?”
“Baby, you never need to ask. I’m always real happy to see you.” He nuzzled her neck and settled his head on her chest. “How many days we got left?”
She cradled him, lazily running her fingers through his hair. “Let’s see, I think today’s about day forty-two, which makes it six weeks down, just two more to go.”
He groaned. “Two more.”
The anticipation of the countdown had her both anxious and aroused, but with Tack between her thighs, she rolled with the latter. “That’s two more weeks you can plan all the ways you’re going to ravish me.”
She felt him smile against her chest. “All the ways, hmm?”
“Hey, I’ve been saving up for you, so I’d better be in store for a lot more than a quickie.”
“Considering all the foreplay this summer, you’ll be lucky if I can last longer than a minute and a half.”
A laugh tickled her throat. “Gee, Tack, I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to you blowing my mind for a whole ninety seconds.”
He lifted his head and grinned at her. “You do know I’m teasing, right?”
“You’d better be.”
“Well, I’m glad there’s no pressure here whatsoever,” he said jokingly, slowly easing himself off and then offering his hand to help her to her feet.
She slid her arms around his neck. “Who are we kidding? We both know we’re gonna rock each other’s world. And hey, if it’s only a minute and a half the first go round, I’m sure there are a few things we can do until we’re ready for the second time.” She pressed her lips to his. “And the third.” She kissed him again. “And the fourth–”
He watched as she licked her lips to savor the taste of him, before he leaned in and kissed her breathless. “Sugar, I promise, once I’m through with you, you won’t have a voice left from calling out my name.”
“And once I’m through with you, cowboy,” she whispered in his ear, “you’ll fall to your knees and thank God you’re a man.”
* * * *
The tail end of Rascal Flatts’ Life is a Highway was still playing when Tack switched on the studio mikes. “That’s gonna be one heck of a homecoming show tomorrow night with Gary, Jay and Joe Don at Nationwide Arena, isn’t it, Dayna?”
“I can’t wait. It’s sold out and everyone’s buzzing about how the boys are going to bring it all night long.”
He snickered. “That’s what she said.”
“Nice try. But you’re not quite using it right.”
“That’s what she said too.”
She puckered her lips. “I’ll bet I can say just about anything and it would sound dirty to you, wouldn’t it?” She whipped out a piece of paper. “In fact, I want to test that theory with this list of common, everyday phrases. On their own, they’re all quite innocent and completely FCC-friendly, but together, they sound like euphemisms for something else. So, let’s see how fast your mind goes from zero to the gutter.”
“You’re on,” he said, sitting up in his seat.
“All right, then. What do you think of when I say….adjusting the antenna? Badgering the witness? Exercising one’s right?” She looked over the top of the page. “How about varnishing the banister? Defrosting the fridge? Or my personal favorite, squeezing the toothpaste from the middle of the tube?”
He busted a gut laughing. “Now that’s just filthy.”
“Wait, wait, I’ve still got more,” she said. “Testing the batteries. Punching the clown. Straining the cabbage.”
Tack hit a button that sounded a loud ahoooga horn sound effect. “Oh God, these are great,” he cackled, falling back into his seat.
“Shucking corn? Spending your Christmas bonus?”
“Now who’s the pervert? You’re trying to corrupt me.” He wagged his finger.
“Oh yeah? Well, let’s see what the listeners think.”
He put a random caller on the air. “Hot Country One-oh-three. Who’s on the line with us?”
“Hi, this is Cory.”
Dayna leaned in to the mike. “Hi Cory. Do you have a phrase I can add to the list? And remember, it’s gotta be squeaky clean. Make Tack’s mind do all the dirty work.”
“Yeah, how about liquidating the inventory?”
“That’s a great one,” she said with a giggle. “And it’s happening in a variety of reputable retail outlets across Ohio as we speak.”
“I’d also like to throw in making chowder with Sailor Ned.”
Tack stomped his feet on the floor in a riot of laughter, while Dayna nearly fell off her chair. “Okay, Cory,” he said, red-faced and out of breath. “Stay on the line. You and Sailor Ned just got yourself a t-shirt.” He selected another caller. “Hi. You’re on with Twisted Tack and Dirty Dayna.”
“Hey guys, this is Artie.”
“Artie!” He grinned. “I knew I could count on you to come to my rescue. Surely, I’m not the only one who’s being led astray here, am I?”
“I hate to do this to you buddy, but I’ve got to side with Dayna. There’s nothing at all wrong with applying the hand brake or investing in pork bellies.”
Tack doubled over, taking several seconds to collect himself before coming back up to the mike. “You guys are killing me,” he said, edging up the slider on a new song. “I need to make a cash withdrawal myself, but Dayna’s back with the celebrity birthday roundup after Blake Shelton on Hot Country One-oh-three.”
He pushed down his headphones and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Jesus, that was fucking hilarious. You had me at toothpaste.”
“Wank you very much.” She bowed her head.
When the song finished four minutes later, Dayna spoke into the mike. “It’s nine-fifteen with Wake Up with Tack and Dayna on Hot Country One-oh-three. Today, we have quite an impressive list of famous people who share a birthday, including Robert ‘You talkin’ to me?’ DeNiro and his buddy, actor and sometimes activist, Sean Penn,” she said. “Say, Tack, you know who I found out is turning forty-one today?”
His head whipped around. Oh no, don’t you dare. “Who’s that?”
“Donnie Wahlberg from New Kids on the Block,” she said. “I’m guessing you probably have a few NKOTB albums hidden in your collection?”
He chuckled to disguise his relief. “Yeah, Hangin’ Tough is my all-time fave.”
“It takes a real big man to admit that.” She snickered. “And speaking of big man, I understand that it also happens to be someone else’s birthday…”
Shit.
“Yep, it says right here that despite trying to hide the fact, our very own Tack Collins is turning forty-one years old today.”
The studio door suddenly swung open and station staff began pouring in. As they sang, Myrna carried in a birthday cake ablaze with candle
s. “Oh, sh–” He stopped himself from spilling an expletive live on the air. “How did you guys find out?”
“Just blow out the candles before you set the sprinklers off,” Bonnie shouted.
Tack leaned over and with one gust, extinguished them and triggered raucous applause.
He was still shaking his head when he looked at Dayna. “Were you behind this?”
“Encyclopedia Brown at your service.” She winked at Jared, who slipped out of the room. “We got you a little something, too.”
Jared returned with a life-sized blow up of a very young, very dumb kid dressed as an oversized frankfurter. It had been signed with birthday greetings from the entire staff.
He laughed, pounding his fist next to the console. “I’m going to kill you guys!”
Dayna adjusted her mike lower. “For those of you who aren’t one of the nineteen lucky people crammed into our studio right now, Tack is staring at a huge photo of himself circa 1989 or ’90 when he worked at a small Nebraska radio station. Um, how would you describe what you’re wearing in the photo, Tack?”
“A giant hotdog.”
“Yes, you heard right, folks. It’s a picture of Tack dressed in a giant hotdog costume. And what was it they called you back in those days?”
“Wiener Boy.” He sighed. “Where in the world did you dig that up?”
“I called the station and asked if they had archived any old promotional photos. As soon as I name-dropped Wiener Boy, they knew precisely what I wanted.”
Morning Man Page 15