Begging for Bad Boys

by Willow Winters

  If that’s the case, there’s only one solution.

  Concentrate the impact to emotionally throw her off balance.

  Maybe then, I’ll get some answers.

  Taking a step toward her, I return her earlier favor and rest my hand on her shoulder. It’s no surprise to me. Her breath catches, her pupils dilate, her chest rises and falls like she can’t get enough air into her lungs, and her heart rate is off the charts. Her reaction confirms that some of this energy between us is simply of a physical nature. She’s attracted to me. I have a reaction too. It’s the electrifying sensation at my fingertips where I made contact with her bare skin—and the other response that starts to take effect in my groin area.

  “Fine,” I tell her. “Let me explain. First of all, I didn’t recognize you until Rusty told me who you were. You were just a little kid when I left town, yet you seem to know me well enough to recognize my face in this crowd. Care to share how you knew it was me?”

  “You dated my sister all through high school, Reid. And you lived one block from our house.”

  “That was nine years ago,” I counter. “I hardly look like I did back then.”

  “Who needs to memorize your face when all anyone has to do is take note of that massive air of arrogance you carry around?” She rolls her eyes but does not move out of my hold. Maybe she likes me touching her more than she thinks. In fact, her body language completely contradicts her speech. “What else? And make it quick. I’ve got one more set to finish, then my guitar player partner and I have to be somewhere.”

  “Another gig?”

  “That’s none of your concern. Oh, and darn, I’m out of time now, so let’s save the third-degree for…well, never. No one in my family owes you anything. Have a nice life, Reid.”

  Again, her words don’t jibe with her body. Robin says goodbye, but she doesn’t move an inch.

  I leverage her apparent paralysis by continuing. “Not so fast. I can’t help but notice that you’re more bitter than a recently pissed off rattlesnake, which makes no sense at all to me. The stuff that happened between your sister and me took place almost a decade ago. What’s with the fresh hatred?”

  Something I said makes her left eye twitch and her bottom lip trembles as though she’ll cry any second now.

  “You’re such a jerk!” she hisses.

  This time, she shoves my hand off of her shoulder and pushes past me. I’m not one to resort to harassment, so I let her storm off towards the stage. Robin demonstrates that she is a professional. Her face transforms back to that sweet and cheerful expression she wore at the start of her performance. Good for her. I take my time to get back to the guys. They’re more focused on the women standing around flirting with them than on Robin or me. She whispers something in the ear of the guitar player. He nods, not looking up as he retightens a string on his Gibson acoustic guitar.

  That’s when she picks up the microphone and announces she’s about to deliver a song dedicated to her sister.

  This can’t be good.

  Chapter 3

  Robin

  It takes every ounce of my self-control not to get the hell out of Whiskey Jacks Saloon. I should never have been so stupid, going up to Reid like that in the first place. What I should have done was finish that song, drink a glass of water to calm myself down, and get ready for this last set.

  But I’ve never been too good with impulse control.

  Case in point.

  I inform Barclay, my guitarist and best friend, that we’re going to perform a song that Danielle and I wrote a few years ago, and instruct him to follow along with a basic chord. Barclay and I have been singing and writing country western songs for years, so he’s used to me switching up our sets. He knows the song too, but maybe he doesn’t realize that the song will be directed to Reid.

  Barclay nods, and his shoulder-length brown hair swings forward. He doesn’t even ask me why as he plays with his neatly trimmed goatee. I look over at him after announcing to the audience that I’m dedicating the song to my sister. He doesn’t suggest I may be taking a risk by singing something this emotionally charged. Okay, it’s an angry, sad country ballad. This would be the ideal time for someone to talk me off a ledge. I wish he didn’t trust me so much.

  Taking a seat on the backless bar stool set up behind the microphone stand, I take a breath, avoid making eye contact with Reid at all costs, and I sing.

  Are you ever gonna tell me why,

  You upped and left without a damned goodbye,

  What did I ever do to make you leave here,

  You took my heart away with you, dear.

  I was crying in my bed,

  Because of words you never said,

  Bye Bye Hero,

  Why Why Hero.

  So many nights I could not sleep,

  Too bad my soul was yours to keep,

  Can’t seem to get over you yet,

  Tell me, do you have some regret?

  I was crying in my bed,

  Because of words you never said,

  Bye Bye Hero,

  Why Why Hero.

  Just don’t come back expecting sunshine,

  Matter of fact, just don’t come around,

  I’ll stick to family, friends and wine,

  To make up for the loss I found.

  You’re someone else’s hero now,

  They must all be so damn proud,

  A part of me just ain’t too sad,

  One day you’ll see what we had.

  Bye Bye Hero,

  Bye Bye Hero.

  By the time I finish the first verse, I realize singing this particular song is a big mistake. I get to the bridge and a few hot tears blur my vision, refusing to be blinked back. What Reid did to my sister had a profound effect on us all. He walked out of her life, and we were left to handle the repercussions. A tear runs down my cheek as I let out the last line. I’m a wreck, and I can only be grateful that Barclay and I have been performing gigs on tiny stages like these for so long that not even the waterworks affect my voice.

  Crowds like this just love sad old country songs that hit them in the gut, which is why most everyone gets out of their seats for this closing round of applause. Clasping my hands together over the mic, I nod and thank them for listening. Patrons from a several tables come up to the front to congratulate us personally and put cash into the stage tip jar. I’m also thanking the stars that Barclay added a long enough guitar solo to my song, so we can wrap it up as the last song of our gig this evening.

  We settle up with Rusty for our pay and split the tips.

  “You were awesome tonight,” Barclay tells me as he packs up his gear.

  “Thanks. You were too. I liked those chords you ran with for the last song.”

  “Hey, while you were in the restroom just now, Rusty came by with some good news.”

  “Please tell me he invited us back.”

  He nods, smiling with pride. “He sure did! Three nights a week, starting tomorrow.”

  “That’s great! Going by the tips we got tonight, I’d say we could be making a few hundred bucks a gig here. Lord knows I can use the money.”

  “You and me both.” He looks at his watch. “We’d better get going. We have twenty-five or so minutes to get over to Stars and Spokes Bar.”

  “Let’s go,” I say. We can’t leave here soon enough. It means I don’t have to see or speak to Reid for the rest of the night.

  But it seems that he hasn’t gotten the memo.

  “Robin,” Reid says from a few feet behind me as I follow Barclay to the front entrance.

  Ignoring him, I keep walking. I don’t want to look at him right now, simply because I have no idea if I can control my runaway mouth. I may spill a secret that’s not mine to share.

  Reid catches up with me outside the front door. He grabs my elbow lightly. “Will you just tell me what the hell is going on?” he shouts in a voice that commands my attention.

  Barclay whips around from his spot in the middle
of the parking lot. He sees Reid’s hand on me and returns to my side, taking a protective stance a few inches ahead of me to serve as a buffer between Reid and me. Already, this is not going well. He gives Reid a genuinely dangerous stare-down, a familiar expression I’ve seen on his face a few times before. Barclay and I are just friends, but he wouldn’t bat an eyelash put himself in harm’s way to fight for me.

  “Robin, is this guy bothering you?” Barclay asks, lifting his Gibson off of his left shoulder to prepare for a potential fistfight.

  “It’s okay,” I answer, turning to look up at my sister’s ex. “My…friend was just leaving…weren’t you, Reid? Because I know for sure you don’t want any trouble.”

  Reid releases my arm and steps back. “You’re right. I don’t, but I also prefer not to show up at your parents’ house to find out how to get in contact with Danielle so she can tell me what’s going on.”

  Shit.

  He’s got a point there.

  I can talk to Reid. Everyone else in my family is liable to break out a rifle and let the buck shots do the talking.

  “Okay, fine. Give me your number. I can meet you after work tomorrow, but you need to promise me that after we talk, you’ll go off into the sunset, or under a rock, wherever, as long as you don’t go looking for Danielle or anyone else for answers. As far as I’m concerned, you’re nine years too late. Deal?”

  He studies me for a second before shaking his head and reaching into his pocket. “Deal,” he answers, and passes a business card to me. “Send me a text so we can set something up. See you around, Robin.”

  “That meathead is Danielle’s ex?” Barclay asks once Reid returns inside and is safely out of earshot.

  “Yes.”

  He turns and walks back to his beat-up Toyota truck. “And you felt compelled to sing that song?”

  “I couldn’t help myself. Why didn’t you stop me?”

  He reaches into his pocket and finds one of the hairbands he uses to put all that hair into a manbun. He always does that when he’s upset or freaked out. “How the hell as I supposed to know who Reid is?”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. He was sitting there with his friends, looking so happy, acting like nothing happened, while Danielle had such a hard road because of him.”

  Barclay opens my door for me. He’s always been such a gentleman. “I get that, but seriously, talk about beating a dead horse and poking the bear, all at the same time. If you wanted him to stay away, it might have been a better idea to pick another song. You know? One that doesn’t kick him in the teeth or get him wondering what the hell went down that was so life-altering that it caused you…Danielle’s sister… to write a song about the two of them. You’ve pretty much sent out a signal flare that says, ‘Hey Reid, how the hell are you? What do you think about moseying on over here and tracking down my sister for answers while I bring up ancient history and open up some old wounds?’.”

  “Yeah. I guess that wasn’t too smart,” I breathe out, shoulders slumped and feeling like an idiot as I step up into the passenger seat.

  Barclay places his guitar in the extra cab space behind me.

  “Ya think?”

  I throw on my seatbelt and rest my head on the seat back, closing my eyes as Barclay goes to the driver side and gets in. I did this. I’ve got to fix it before it becomes a real problem. Protecting Danielle is all I care about now. Tomorrow, I’ll set up that quick meeting with Reid, apologize for going overboard, and leave out as many of the details as I can. All while avoiding a new discovery that I just found out about outside the ladies’ restroom.

  I find Reid almost irresistible.

  Lord help me.

  It’s time for some damage control.

  Chapter 4

  Reid

  I’m early for this meeting with Robin, and for good reason.

  I want answers.

  Not that I deserve any, all things considered, but hell, her song is still echoing around in my head. I broke Danielle’s heart. Okay, I’m an ass for having been such a childish prick by leaving without saying goodbye. But there has to be more to this story. Something about Robin being so intent on ensuring I keep my distance from her sister has me on edge. I’m sure that her family is hiding something from me.

  All day today at work, I was tempted to clear an hour of my schedule to find out first-hand from Danielle herself. I don’t know where she lives, but it’s easy enough to stop by her parents’ place and ask for their daughter’s address. Still, something tells me I should get some intel from Robin before I show up on that doorstep.

  Mr. Sparrow is a damn good shot.

  Robin sends me a text on my phone to let me know that she has some time after her day job, and can meet me at Whiskey Jacks before she performs. I reply that I’ll be there. Perfect. No need to risk life and limb with a confrontation with Mr. Sparrow. The wait won’t be too long.

  I debate whether to tell her that my buddies and I happen to spend a lot of our free evenings at that very saloon, but decide against mentioning anything. We’re both adults, and my guess is she already dished out the worst of her fury last night with that song. As upset as she was before, during and after that song, Robin doesn’t strike me as the catty type. I spend the rest of the day in scheduled meetings and taking care of a few priority client emails. After the bulk of my to-do list is finished, I leave the office in one of the Cadillac Escalades in the company fleet.

  I don’t quite step down from my SUV in the parking lot when the sound of a woman’s high heels approaches, clicking on the concrete. There’s no surprise on my face as I make out Lou-Ann, one of the regulars here at the saloon. Lou-Ann is just another one of the one-night stands I’ve had, and a pretty solid reminder that I should never pick up chicks where I like to kick back—especially because one night isn’t usually enough for most of them. Not that I can blame them. I’m fit, sexy, handsome, and irresistible as hell.

  “Hi Reid,” she purrs, stepping up to me. I check her out as we stand between my SUV and a pickup truck in the next parking spot, just to give myself some insight as to why I slept with her that first and only time. Long dark hair. Cute face. Pretty smile. Average-sized breasts. Curvy all over. Scantily dressed.

  Yup.

  She’s pretty much my usual M.O. for hookups.

  “Howdy Lou-Ann,” I say.

  “You know, I never got a chance to get your phone number that night,” she informs me.

  “True.” There’s a reason I didn’t give her my number that night. The one-night stand does not require a second night, so collecting the phone numbers of women I don’t intend to sleep with again is counterproductive.

  Lou-Ann runs a hand down my arm. “It would be nice to hang out again, if you’re ever up for some company.”

  It takes real effort for me to give her a half-smile. My mind is elsewhere. I’m not here for entertainment, or beer, or good music, or the company of my friends. I’m here to get some answers.

  “My schedule is booked up for the next little while, Lou-Ann. I’m sorry.”

  “If I give you my number, will you call?”

  I press my lips together tightly, mentally crafting a polite way to turn her down. In all likelihood, I won’t be in touch. Because I need to wrap up this little chat, I throw her a bone. Taking out my phone, I pass it over to her anyway. “No promises, okay? Put your number in here and we’ll see.”

  Lou-Ann is overjoyed and gleeful as she adds her number to my contact list. “Make sure you call me,” she says, closing the distance between us. She runs her hands up my chest and laces her fingers around my neck. “Promise?”

  The ability to interpret body language and read between the lines do not appear to be in Lou-Ann’s wheelhouse. Frankly, given her level of attachment, I’m not willing to mince words anymore. I pull her hands away from my neck and take a step back. “Sorry, doll. I said no promises, remember?”

  She pouts at the gruffness of my words. “I thought you had a good time with me,”
she whines.

  “I did.” That’s the truth. But having one night of fun is not reason enough for me to want another. Second dates are not in my wheelhouse. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting inside.”

  Lou-Ann makes another concerted attempt to change my mind by pressing her body up next to mine. She opens her mouth to say something more, and I decide enough is enough. Taking a solid grip on her shoulders, I move her one step away and slide past her. I give her a wave over my shoulder and keep walking to the front entrance of the saloon, where Robin is standing with her arms folded again, giving me the stink eye.

  Probably because she saw the whole thing.

  Chapter 5

  Robin

  Once a dog, always a dog.

  I glare over at Reid as he and a curvy woman make small talk and practically start a mini makeout session in the parking lot. He even gives her his phone to put in her number.

  Dirty, sexy manwhore.

  I only came outside to get some fresh air as I wait for Barclay to arrive, but maybe it’s a better idea for Reid and me to have this brief walk down memory lane out here with fewer witnesses. It will also allow me to avoid him like the plague for the rest of my time at today’s gig.

  “Evening, Robin,” Reid greets me with his broad, panty-dropping smile.

  I see right through the bright white teeth, good looks, perfectly fit body, and charismatic charm. This time, I won’t get sucked in by his broad shoulders, bulging biceps, or his imposing size that so many women must find ridiculously hard to resist. I’m not perfect myself, but this is one man I need to keep far away from, no matter what.

  “Reid.”

  The woman he was speaking with steps up to us and give me a grimace.