Begging for Bad Boys

by Willow Winters

  I won’t have to deal with all this lust-filled turmoil if we’re thousands of miles apart. Nashville seems like the best possible option. All I have to do is save a bit more money and stay the heck away from Reid. Starting with tonight’s gig. I remind myself why I’m here. To smile and be friendly with the patrons, put on a good show, and sing my heart out like my life depends on it. Oh, and to collect my tips at the end of my set.

  Of course, this is Reid and his buddies’ regular watering hole, so I should be ready to see him walk in the front door anytime.

  Like this very second.

  The bell above the front door chimes. In walks Reid and two of his buddies. And there goes my stomach, all in knots. Dammit. It doesn’t help that he ambles in wearing a black muscle shirt and dark jeans that show off every muscle in his arms, chest, abs and thighs from across the room. Or that when our eyes connect, I have to press my thighs together to stop the reaction that spreads through my center, as though he reached out and physically touched me.

  Lacy must notice that I’ve completely stopped tuning my guitar and am staring like a deer in the headlights. She looks back and forth between me and the approaching wall of men. “Honey, you may be single, but I don’t think you will be for long.”

  “What? Why not?”

  She motions with her chin at Reid and his friends, who take a seat at a table closer to the bar. “Just a hunch.”

  “Trust me. I don’t plan on cozying up with anyone, least of all from around here. I’ve got zero luck with men.”

  “Whatever you do, keep your paws off Jaden.”

  “Who?”

  “Jaden Pratt. The blond one who usually comes in with them. It’s just Leo, Beau, and Reid coming in right now, but Jaden usually joins them. Speaking of, have you and Reid…dated or something?”

  “Aww, hell no!” I almost shriek.

  “But you have some kind of history, right?”

  I think about the simplest way to reply to her question. “It’s complicated.”

  “Well, let me just say I’ve never seen him look at any woman in here the way he looked at you just now. I’m telling you, honey, the electricity between the two of you can’t lie.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s the fact that temperature in the room just went up a few degrees from whatever it is the two of you have.”

  Crap.

  I keep the rest of my thoughts to myself and do my best not to give anything away. Nervousness makes me check the time on my phone. Ten minutes until I start my set.

  “I’d better use the ladies room before I get up on stage,” I tell her.

  “Don’t you think he’s cute?”

  “Well, sure he is. Why are you starting to sound like you’re trying to hook us up, Lacy?”

  She picks up her serving tray and gives their table another look. “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Which is?”

  “Maybe it’s time for you to un-complicate what’s between you, honey,” she drawls.

  “There’s nothing between Reid and me,” I insist.

  “Keep telling yourself that. But remember that saying…the best lies are the ones we tell ourselves.”

  I don’t need Lacy getting philosophical on me about Reid. What I need is to get my set over and done with, and go home.

  “Just look at him. He’s sexy as sin. Every woman in here wants a piece of him. Well, everyone but me. I’m happy to wait for a dose of Jaden.”

  “Every woman in here can have him,” I reiterate.

  “But he’s not looking their way.”

  “It’s a free country, Lacy. Reid can bore a hole through me…with his eyes, I mean. I’m just here to play my music and save my tips.”

  Lacy shakes her head and clucks her teeth with disapproval. “That’s a damn shame, because he’s headed over here.”

  What else is new? It’s as though he’s on a new mission, and I’m the target.

  He strides over to us. “Evening, ladies,” he says, sporting that cocky grin I wish I didn’t have to see for the third time in three days straight.

  “Howdy, Reid,” Lacy greets him. “Is Jaden coming by later?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Nice. I’ll let you two catch up…or whatever,” she tells him, and turns to give me a wink. “Looks like I’ve got a few customers to serve.”

  “Excuse me,” I tell him. That’s all he gets. Me walking away. I’m not about to engage with him after he tried to kiss me last night.

  Straightening my shoulders, I get to my feet, set down my guitar on its stand, and make a beeline for the restrooms.

  “How are you doing, Robin?” Reid asks, still hot on my heels.

  “Busy,” I answer in a clipped tone.

  “Did your sunset pictures come out well?”

  I make it to the door of the ladies’ room and slow down just enough to turn and give him a nod. “They did. Thanks for asking.”

  “Good. I’m glad you made it home all right.”

  “I did. Well, I have to be on stage in a few minutes, so…”

  “Right. Have you given it any thought?”

  I stare up at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  He leans a hand on the door post, practically blocking out the light with his height. “You. Me. Dinner. Drinks. Maybe more.”

  “That was a ‘no’ yesterday, and it’s still a ‘no’ now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Anger rises up from my chest, and soon my neck and face begin to feel hot. “Where do you get off? It wasn’t enough for you to do what you did to my sister. Now you want to add me to your casualty list?”

  “Calm down. I asked you out on a date, nothing more.”

  “And I said no. Twice. Look, I’ve got a performance to put on in a few minutes. You’re not helping my state of mind right now. How about you go have a meal or a drink with your friends, and let me do what I came here to do?”

  “I wouldn’t be here asking you if I didn’t think that maybe you wanted some answers of your own.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Reid’s composure changes from open and playful to serious and formal. He straightens up and moves his hand from the door post, letting his arms hang at his sides. “You never got my side of the story, but you know what? Fine. Let’s leave the past where it belongs. Good luck on stage.”

  I watch as he turns and all but stomps back to his table.

  Interesting.

  But whatever.

  Getting inside the ladies’ room, I freshen up and iron out my nervous energy. Maybe I have him where I want him now. Ready to leave me alone and let things be, Above all, as long as he leaves Danielle alone, I’m happy. At the moment, even if he wanted to, he can’t get to her. She and my parents are at the tail end of a two-week road trip to Seattle and parts of Washington state in the family camper van. Maybe by the time they get back, Reid will have gotten used to seeing me around Whiskey Jacks, and his fixation on me and my family will stop.

  Although, I still have to take a bit of the blame for his curiosity. I opened up a can of worms with that song. Tonight, I need to keep the music light and cheerful—the opposite of what Reid invokes in me.

  The problem is that even as I think of all the potentially upbeat songs on my playlist, every one of them can be misconstrued as relating to Reid and me. From Tim McGraw’s I like it, I love it, to George Strait’s Blue Clear Sky, and even Alan Jackson’s Good Time.

  I head back to the stage with the thought that I need some new material. Songs about rainbows and horses, or trucks and beer. Nothing about chasing tail, falling in love, heartbreak, or undeniable attraction.

  Rusty introduces me to the audience, and I avert my eyes from Reid’s table, kicking off my four-song performance set with the neutral Ray Stevens classic, Everything is Beautiful. The relaxed crowd of patrons seems pretty satisfied with the oldie. I increase the tempo with Tim McGraw’s Truck Yeah, then wind down w
ith Kip Moore’s Somethin’ ’Bout a Truck and Brad Paisley’s Mud on the Tires.

  Nope.

  Even songs about trucks, beer, and rainbows make me think of him.

  It’s no use, but I find some satisfaction in the fact that the couple of times my eyes wandered over to Reid, he was busy with the usual throng of female patrons slinking into the seat beside him to whisper in his ear, hang on his every word, or cop a feel of his biceps.

  And not once did he meet my eyes.

  Apparently, I struck a nerve earlier.

  Getting off the stage for my fifteen-minute break between sets, I avoid him by taking the long way around to the far end of the bar. But his unfriendly reaction is short-lived.

  Reid sidles up to me and sits on the bar stool beside me. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  I point at my bottle of water. “I just got one. Thanks anyway.”

  “I meant a real drink.”

  “Can’t. Not between sets. Alcohol isn’t good for the vocal cords.”

  “Got it. You have a way with that guitar. Those last two songs got feet tapping and heads rocking.”

  “Thanks,” I say politely, peeking over at him for a split second as I take a gulp of water.

  He orders another beer for himself, and doesn’t’ say another word until I get up.

  “See you around,” he tells me.

  “I’m going to stretch my legs before the next set.” I’m not even sure why I said that. It’s not like I owe him anything.

  The three or four women who made a move on him earlier all seem to swoop in on him from all directions as I scurry outside through a side door meant for staff only. Lacy had shown me this convenient spot that the rest of the staff use as somewhat of a hideaway from patrons during smoke breaks.

  As I sit on a stack of wooden crates while I’m getting some fresh air, the door creaks open behind me.

  Reid again.

  “Are you stalking me now?” I breathe out in frustration, getting to my feet.

  Standing in the doorway, he pulls his phone from his jeans pocket and holds it out to me. “Put your number in here.”

  I meet his gaze. He’s serious.

  “Why would I ever do that?”

  “Because you want to.”

  “Please stop kidding yourself. Besides, there are enough women inside climbing over each other to sink their claws into you.”

  “Does that make you jealous?”

  I let out a dismissive chuckle. “Hell no.”

  “Not even a little?”

  “I have to finish my last set,” I tell him, ignoring the question as I take a few steps toward him. He doesn’t move out of the doorway. Narrowing my eyes, I fold my arms and look up at him. “Are you going to let me pass?”

  “In a minute.”

  Reid bends forward until there’s only a few inches between our faces. He’s so close I’m caught up in the heat coming off his body and doing wicked things to my senses. Reaching a hand up to my face, he tucks some of my hair behind my ear.

  “You want me,” he tells me in a throaty whisper.

  I’m about to tell him to go to hell when he bends forward even closer, cups my chin with one hand, and presses his mouth to mine. I want to pull away, but it’s as though there’s a magnet pulling our bodies together. Closing my eyes, I let the inevitable happen. Or maybe I’ve been fooling myself about how attracted I am to him. All I know is that my mind goes blank now that his lips are on mine, and my body relaxes into his, and I give in to the salacious moment.

  Reid slides his other arm up to my folded arm, loosening them before he rests his hand on the small of my back. I drift closer, vaguely aware of his groin pressing against my belly as his tongue parts my lips and invades my mouth, tangling with my tongue and exploring with fervor. His hand on my back moves lower and cups my ass through my jeans. Good Lord, his touch is like magic.

  His tongue.

  His touch.

  My aching core.

  The bulge growing rigid at my stomach.

  Suddenly, the flashes of images are too much. I pull from the kiss with a sharp jerk, taking a massive stumble backward.

  “Why do you keep kissing me?” I ask, hand over my mouth.

  “Why do you keep letting me?” he replies with a confident smile.

  “That’s not fair. I’m not the one seeking you out.”

  Reid steps out of the doorway and stands on the pavement. “True. The thing is, you may be standing still, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t want me.”

  “Leave me alone, Reid,” I demand as I hurry past him to get back inside. If only my body would stop aching for another taste.

  Chapter 10

  Reid

  Robin makes a point of not looking my way for the entirety of her second set on stage. I can’t blame her after that kiss. She’s a stubborn little thing for denying the attraction between us. I don’t think I’ve ever been so drawn to another woman before, but with my reputation for being a woman claiming wild man, I can see why she’d want to err on the side of caution.

  That’s all well and good.

  I can be a patient man when I want to.

  After she wraps up her songs, I decide to leave her alone.

  Then I can’t.

  More like won’t, because just as Robin is packing away her guitar from her spot on the stage, all the blood drains from her face when she makes eye contact with someone near the front entrance. It’s pure fear. She has never reacted to me that way. I follow her panic-stricken eyes to the source, and catch sight of him.

  From this distance, there’s nothing out of place with the clean-shaven, well-dressed man standing there. He’s in his mid to late twenties, wearing a wavy medium-length hairstyle, a tailored black suit with the jacket open and showing his lean physique under a white shirt. No matter what he looks like, his presence alone has Robin scared as fuck. That means he and I have a problem.

  I head over to her. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. I’m…I’m fine,” she stammers, voice tense, eyes trained on the man.

  “You don’t look fine right now. Were you planning on leaving now?”

  “I…yes. I’ve got to go.”

  Because she’s still staring at the guy, I finish closing her guitar case, and rest the handle on the palm of her hand, but Robin’s shaking like a leaf as she clenches it. I have to assume she’s terrified of this guy.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” I tell her.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she replies, still not looking at me.

  “I didn’t have to kiss you either.” Picking up her purse, I grab the guitar from her and take her hand. “Let’s go.”

  My instincts are right on the money as we get a few feet from the man. Up close, there’s a malicious expression on his face. His watery gray eyes are devoid of emotion, and the closer we get to crossing paths with him, the more his eyebrows bunch. The man licks his thin lips as he stares at Robin’s and my joined hands. Robin slows her pace, cowering, with part of her body behind me.

  “Well well. Look who it is,” he says, almost snarling. “How are you doing, Robin?”

  “You don’t have to talk to this man if you don’t want to,” I state with self-assuredness.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Leo and Beau drain their beer mugs. Leo slaps some cash on the counter and approaches us. That’s one thing I can always count on. My boys have my back in a pinch.

  “Relax, asshole,” the idiot crows out. “I’m going to have a word with my girlfriend here, and neither you or your band of jacked-up muscle heads are going to stop me.”

  “I’m not your girlfriend, Dave,” Robin shouts, which also tamps down any surprise I felt about the guy’s announcement. “And I don’t want to talk to you, or see you, just like I said the last time you came around.”

  “You heard her, buddy,” I add. “Step aside.”

  “Who’s going to make me?” Dave scoffs. “You? Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
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  I release Robin’s hand, and both Leo and Beau step in front of her protectively. Leaning down to show this dickhead that I mean business, I meet his eyes. “Who I am, is the guy that’ll make you regret not moving out of my way when you had the chance.”

  Dave tilts his body to the right, trying to make eye contact with Robin. “You’re gonna play this, Robin?” he snaps out the question. “Okay. We’ll see how it works out for you.”

  With a nod and a grimace in my direction, Dave stands down. He’s mad as hell, but he eventually turns and leaves.

  “What the fuck was that about?” Beau asks me.

  “Hell if I know.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on him while you get your friend home,” Leo says with finality, heading outside. Damn straight I’m taking her home, whether she likes it or not. Even if I have to follow her in my vehicle.

  I turn to face Robin. She’s still shaking like a leaf. Every instinct inside me is itching to pull her into my arms and hold her tight. “Christ. That’s your boyfriend? No wonder you won’t give me the time of day.”

  “Ex-boyfriend,” she corrects me.

  “How long ago did you two break up?”

  “Almost a year.”

  “And did good ole Dave get the memo?”

  She runs frantic hands through her hair, eyes still fixed on the door. “Forget about it, okay. I just want to go home.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be fine there?”

  “Yes,” she answers, but there’s nothing positive in her voice.

  “Will you be alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not a good idea, Robin. Look at you. You’re scared of this guy. Can I at least take you to your parents’ place, or a friend’s?”

  “My folks are away. My best friend is too. I’ll be all right.”

  “I won’t let you face this guy by yourself. I’m betting he’s out there, sitting in his car, waiting to get you alone so he can confront you.”

  She absent-mindedly runs the fingers of her left hand down her right wrist. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Eventually, he gets the hint and leaves. And when he doesn’t, it’s just a matter of reinstating another temporary restraining order.”