by Cindi Myers
“Then I’d say it was time for a new woman in his life.”
“But how are you going to get around Carl?”
“I’m not on-air talent, remember? This promo thing is just a temporary assignment.”
Tanisha laughed. “You go. Of course, you might have to fight off Naughty Nick first.”
She made a face. “Don’t remind me.”
“I don’t envy you three days in bed with that octopus.”
“I’m thinking about arming myself with Mace and a stun gun. Think that would stop him?”
“Better bring some earplugs, too. I never met a man who liked to talk so much—about himself.”
“Earplugs. Gotcha.” She mentally added these to her list. This was going to be the longest seventy-five hours of her life, but she was going to make the most of the time. By the time it was over she’d have a gig as the station’s newest jock and Naughty Nick would have learned to keep his hands to himself.
BONNIE GLARED at the billboard looming over the Englewood Light Rail Station. Five years she’d been with KROK and her face had never been on a billboard. Little Miss Muffet had worked there a lousy six months and her simpering mug was plastered all over town. Bonnie kicked the curb. So much for thinking seniority counted for anything.
She’d been sure she was on her way when she’d latched onto Adam Hawkins. Not only was the Hawk the best-looking thing to cross the threshold of KROK in years, he was a genuinely nice guy. Which to her meant he was easily manipulated. She’d smiled and flirted and before she knew it, he was following her home. She figured in a matter of weeks she’d be sitting behind a control board, doing the afternoon show with him. A few months after that, she’d find a way to lose him and she’d have a solo gig.
But when she’d suggested she sit in on a few shows with him, he’d turned her down cold. He didn’t want to muddle things by mixing business with pleasure, he’d said.
He didn’t want to share the spotlight with anyone else was the problem. She’d figured she could change his mind, and then he’d had the nerve to dump her. And right before his show, too!
Well, she’d shown him. When it was time to do her traffic report, she’d lit into him. She’d shown the world what a lousy bastard he was.
And then Carl had to come unglued. He’d totally overreacted. He’d even called her unprofessional. And Adam got off scot-free. It figured. Men got all the breaks in this business.
She scowled up at the billboard again. Carl was still holding that little outburst with Adam against her. Otherwise why would he have agreed to let a nobody like that do a major promo? And a sexy one at that? What was sexy about a kid like her? Everybody knew Bombshell Bonnie was, well, a bombshell.
Sometimes Carl could be so dumb. The light rail train pulled into the station and she took a last look at the billboard before climbing onto the car. Everybody at KROK was dumb if they thought she was giving up that easily. She was going to have her own show there sooner or later. All she needed was the right opportunity, and the right person to help her get there.
“IT’S WET and nasty out there tonight. A band of thunderstorms stretching from the eastern plains into the foothills has traffic snarled all over town. Wrecks working at C-470 and Broadway, westbound Six and Sheridan, northbound I-225 and Parker. Slow and go around the Pepsi Center. And we can expect much the same story for the rest of the week.”
Adam inched his Jeep along C-470 toward his home in Morrison, just southwest of Denver. Thank God he hadn’t drawn the Pepsi Center gig. Pulling the station trailer would be a nightmare in this weather.
Three more miles to his exit and it was taking forever to get there. His car stopped again almost directly under a KROK billboard. Erica smiled down on him, posed with Nick in front of an enormous brass bed.
For probably the thousandth time, he wished she didn’t work for the radio station. Why couldn’t she be a schoolteacher or a secretary or an attorney or anything but a co-worker? If he didn’t have to work with her, he might risk asking her out. Yeah, the age thing made him feel like a dirty old man, but he’d risk it to find out if she was as hot in real life as she was in his fantasies.
But she did work for KROK, so no dice. Maybe she didn’t technically fall under Carl’s rule, but Adam had learned the hard way to keep his work life and his personal life separate. There was too much potential for major damage if they mingled. He’d caught himself rationalizing why this time would be different, but he’d resolutely shoved the thoughts away. He wasn’t going to make the mistake of thinking with his cock, the way he had with Bonnie.
Of course, Erica was young. She hadn’t screwed up her life the way he had. More than once lately he’d sensed that she was doing her best to let him know she was interested in him. He was flattered, and he’d thought about trying to explain what had happened with Bonnie, and how close he’d come to losing his job after their big bust-up. How he couldn’t afford to mess up again. He wanted her to understand he wasn’t rejecting her, just trying to keep them both out of trouble.
But he’d never found the right words to say all that. He always got too caught up in listening to her, in watching the way her eyes lit up when she was excited about something, and enjoying the way he felt when she smiled at him.
And now for the next three days she’d be sharing that bed with Nick. Of course, they wouldn’t be doing anything. For one thing, even at night there were security guards and cameras everywhere. But still, the thought was unsettling.
He supposed he could hope for a flood to wash out the Furniture Gallery and make the whole bed-in thing impossible. The way the skies had opened up, it was a remote possibility.
“Naughty Nick here, reminding you that starting tomorrow, I’ll be broadcasting live from the showroom of Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery, Wadsworth and East Six. Stop by and see me and my lovely sidekick, Erica, as we begin our seventy-five hour bed-in to raise money for the Salvation Army’s new homeless shelter. Bring your donation by in person. And give me your ideas for what you’d do if you had seventy-five hours to spend in bed with a good-looking co-worker.”
He punched off the radio and glared up at the billboard again. It was going to be a very long three days.
RED FLANNEL pajamas with cartoon puppy dogs all over them—check. Red fuzzy slippers—check. Teddy bear—check. Sleep mask—check. Earplugs—check. Toiletries, throat lozenges, water bottle, makeup, clean underwear—check. Civilian clothes to wear home—check. Erica zipped the duffel and dragged it toward her car. She had twenty minutes to make it to Mattress Max’s, ten minutes to change once she got there and no time at all to calm down and convince herself that she was, absolutely, doing the right thing.
At least there was no traffic this time of morning, and the rain had stopped for a while. She raced her neon-green Volkswagen up the entrance ramp to Interstate 70 and headed toward the Furniture Gallery. She hadn’t slept much the night before, having been tortured by doubt and by erotic dreams starring Adam. Too bad he wasn’t her partner in this crazy promo. She’d have definitely found something sexier to wear for him, and would have done her best to make sure she didn’t have to wear it very long once the lights went out.
Though the surrounding businesses were dark, Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery was lit up like a fair-grounds. She spotted the KROK production van near the front door. Mason, a production tech, waved at her as she drove past and parked the VW around back. Then she grabbed her bag and raced toward the private rest room that had been set aside for her and Nick to share. It was Mattress Max’s executive washroom, complete with shower. Fortunately Max himself wasn’t there this time of morning, so she didn’t have to deal with him.
Nick was nowhere in sight, either. She changed into the flannel pjs, already rehearsing the speech she’d prepared for Carl, who was sure to complain. Her angle was that showing less skin was actually more enticing, because it left things to the imagination. Plus, she’d noticed before that the furniture showroom tended to be cold. H
e wouldn’t want her getting sick, would he?
She didn’t really expect him to buy it, but she had to try. She would compromise with a KROK T-shirt and boxers, but she drew the line at Victoria’s Secret or Fredericks’s.
Carl had explained everything to her multiple times—the remote mini-transmitter on the truck would send the signal to the transmitter at the studio for broadcast. A board op there would run the production board during the morning show, with the regular staff taking over at nine o’clock. The main thing she and Nick had to do was listen for their on-air cues.
The production crew had been busy, setting up the mics and other equipment around the bed. It was some bed, too—a king-size brass number with a fake mink spread and blue satin sheets. Half a dozen of the fluffiest pillows she’d ever laid eyes on were piled at the head, and twin black lacquer nightstands were already stocked with water, tissues and matching brass lamps.
“Erica! There you are.” Carl spotted her and hurried over. He frowned at the pajamas. “Puppy dogs? You couldn’t come up with anything better than that?”
“I didn’t want to be cold.” She hugged her arms over her chest.
He shook his head. “That’s the least of my worries right now. Here, you go ahead and get into bed.” He escorted her to her home away from home for the next three days. “We’ll get started in a minute here.”
“Sound checks out okay, Carl.”
The familiar voice sent a warm tingle through her and she froze in the act of climbing into bed and stared at the man who’d appeared on the other side. “Adam? What are you doing here?”
“Morning, Erica.” He cut his eyes to the station manager. “Didn’t Carl tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Carl coughed. “Nick was in a car accident on the way home from the Pepsi Center last night. He’s going to be all right, but he’ll be out of commission for a while, so Adam is filling in.”
She turned to Adam again. For the first time she noticed that below the KROK T-shirt, he was wearing blue plaid pajama bottoms. A warm glow settled over her and she couldn’t hold back a smile. “That’s great! I mean, that’s really nice of you.”
“In the bed, both of you,” Carl said. “We’re almost ready to go live.”
They each turned back the covers and settled awkwardly on either side of the bed, careful not to touch. “You ready?” Adam asked.
She took a deep breath, immediately aware of the scent of his aftershave and the underlying aroma of him. Her stomach fluttered. “I guess so.” No way was she going to screw up this time. “Are you?”
Worry lines fanned out from his eyes, but he nodded. “I guess so. It’s been a while, but I think I remember how.”
She gasped. Wow, get the man in bed and he turned into a completely different person. “It’s been a while?”
“Yeah, I used to do a morning show in Carmel, but that was years ago. I hope my mouth still works in the morning.”
“Oh. Oh, I’m sure it will.” She pulled the covers up a little more, hoping he’d been too busy setting up the equipment to notice her grinning. It was all she could do not to pump her fist and shout out “Yes!” She couldn’t believe she was here. In bed. With Adam Hawkins.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he settled his earphones into place and adjusted the microphone. What had Bonnie said about taking advantage of every opportunity? Well here was a golden one to let Adam know exactly what she thought of him.
A lot could happen in three days, couldn’t it?
3
“THIS IS THE HAWK coming to you live from a king-size bed in the middle of Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery.” Adam tried to get comfortable in the big bed, despite the distraction of the woman beside him. He nodded to her, her cue to get ready for her morning show debut. “With me is the ever-effervescent Erica.”
“Good morning, everyone.” Erica smiled into the mic, living up to the nickname he’d just saddled her with. Did she always look this good at a little after six in the morning? And since when had flannel been so sexy?
“We know you were expecting Naughty Nick,” she continued. “But unfortunately, he couldn’t be with us this morning.”
“Just as well,” Adam said. “I’m not into threesomes myself.” Aaargh. Where had that come from? This was not the time for sexual wordplay. “Seriously, folks, Nick was injured last night in a traffic accident on the way home from the Pepsi Center concert. The last report we had he’d just come out of surgery and was doing well. We wish him a speedy recovery.”
“That’s right, Nick. Get well soon.” Erica’s eyes lit with mischief. “Meanwhile, I’m going to do my best to make do with the Hawk here.”
“Make do? Woman, that is harsh. I’m wounded.” Was she really disappointed to be spending the next three days with him instead of Nick?
She laughed and sat cross-legged in the bed, her knee brushing his. “I don’t know. Are you really an early-morning kind of guy?”
You’d think in a king-size bed they could avoid contact. He moved over a little. “Every man is an early morning kind of guy. Didn’t you know that?” There he went with the double entendres again. Was it his years in rock radio, or merely the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about sex around her?
“And I thought Nick was going to be a handful.”
And just what did she think her hands were going to be full of? He dropped his voice to a seductive rumble. “Don’t think you’re up to spending three days in bed with me?”
The look she sent him made his temperature climb. “The question ought to be, is the Hawk ready to spend three days in bed with me?”
No. Yes. Would he really last three days? Considering the heat they’d generated in less than ten minutes he was liable to self-combust long before their seventy-five hour deadline was met.
He adjusted the microphone on his headset. “That sounded like a challenge to me, folks. Did it to you? Come on down to the Furniture Gallery and place your bets.”
“I think you mean make your donations.”
“You use your terminology, I’ll stick to mine.”
“However you put it, the bottom line is we’re here raising money for the Salvation Army’s new homeless shelter,” she said. “Stop by and add your cash or check to our collection bin. And while you’re at it, add your get-well wishes to the giant card we’ve posted for Nick.”
“For those of you still lazing around in your beds, here’s a little rock and roll to get you going.”
As the music started, Erica ripped off her headset and leaned back against the pillows. “How’d I do?” she asked.
“You sound like a pro.” And she looked almost too tempting, half-reclining in the bed, her hair spread out on the pillow behind her. He swallowed hard and looked away, attempting to focus on the few Furniture Gallery employees who’d started to gather. “I still can’t believe Carl agreed to this. How can anybody spend three days in a bed?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe under the right circumstances. With the right person.”
There was a definite seductive purr in her voice. Was he the right person she wouldn’t mind in her bed?
“We get to take breaks,” she said. “I mean, you can get up and walk around.”
“Right. To go to the john. I guess I ought to be grateful for that.”
She stretched her arms over her head, a movement that brought her breasts into sharper focus against the flannel. “Well, I’m going to find a way to have a good time with this. I mean, how many people get paid to basically have fun in bed?”
There his mind went again, reading more into her words than she probably meant. He could certainly think of a few ways to have fun with her in bed…. He tried looking away again, but his gaze insisted on wandering back to her. She was unbuttoning her top now. “What are you doing?” he asked, alarmed.
“It’s a lot warmer in here than I thought.” She stripped off the shirt and tossed it aside, revealing a red tank top underneath.
> Only when his vision blurred did he realize he’d stopped breathing. He turned his back to her. “Can we get some coffee over here? And some ice water.” If all else failed, he could dump the water in his lap.
“That was Maroon 5 with ‘This Love,’” she said, right on cue. “If you’re on your way into work this morning, stop by and say hi. The Hawk and I are broadcasting from Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery at East Six and Wadsworth.”
“If you bring us a donation this morning, we’ve got free T-shirts and CDs to give away.” Adam checked his clipboard and saw that it was time for a plug for Mattress Max. “And while you’re here, try out Max’s own line of Therapedic bedding—the most comfortable mattress you’ll find anywhere.”
“This one certainly is comfortable.” Erica bounced up and down and grinned at him.
He couldn’t help but notice that the mattress wasn’t the only thing bouncing, and almost forgot his lines. The engineer hissed in his earphones, reminding him to avoid the broadcasting sin of dead air. He forced himself to focus on the clipboard. “Max is running a special right now. Buy a mattress during the K-Rock bed-in and he’ll throw in a frame and two Therapedic pillows absolutely free.”
“The pillows are definitely very comfy.” She smiled at him and beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. He’d have to talk to someone about getting a fan or something.
Was she deliberately flirting with him? Maybe she thought that was what was expected of her. Later, when they were off the air, he’d explain to her that she didn’t have to act that way with him. He wasn’t Naughty Nick. They would just do the show the way he always did, ask for donations and forget about all the flirting and sexy talk.
If only he could convince his body to do the same.
AT 9:00 THE MORNING show ended and Erica and Adam were off the air. Now their job was to talk to the people who stopped by to donate, take turns answering the phones for people who wanted to make pledges, and do the occasional live call-in throughout the day.
