He winks and I let out a small awkward laugh. Maybe all of my thoughts are being flashed in neon lights above my head. As close as he is to the truth, I am not going to be one of those people who keep repeating the same mistakes.
I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.
“Great show tonight,” I say, my pathetic attempt at changing the subject.
“Yeah? Did you catch the new song?”
I focus on the bottles lined up behind the bar. God how I wish someone would turn them all the right way. “I might’ve heard a lyric or two.”
“What’d you think?”
“It was all right.”
I turn around in my seat, so that I can focus on the dance floor. I’m out of things to distract me behind the bar. Drew has his hands on Katie’s hips now, holding her body from behind, and the way they’re moving together makes me question if they’ve already gotten it on. Their bodies seem awfully familiar with one another’s. I make a mental note to ask her.
“Just all right?” Dallas scoffs, taking mock offense at my lack of enthusiasm.
The truth is it’s an amazing song, one girls all over the country will be listening to wishing their boyfriends or husbands would sing to them. It’s about being her rock, her solid pillar of strength or her punching bag, whatever she needs whenever she needs. And I’ve had my hands all over his body so I know the title is true. Dallas Lark is the walking, talking, living, breathing example of tough all over.
“Eh,” I say with a shrug.
“You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart,” Dallas says in my ear, bringing on those damn sexy shivers he induces. “You want to get out of here? Or you want to sit on this bar stool and lie to me some more? I’m good with whichever, so long as you’re not still mad at me.”
“So you’d be just as happy to sit here with me as you would if I let you take me back to your room?”
Who’s the bad liar now, Lark?
He takes a long drink of his draft beer and nods. “Yep. Just so long as you’re talking to me.”
I stare at him, losing myself momentarily in his eyes. The way they’re silver on the edges, almost wolflike, and cerulean in the center with a pale sky blue threaded through the irises.
“I almost believe you.”
He chuckles, snapping me out of my lust-filled fog. “I didn’t say I didn’t have a preference. But I am truly happy with either.”
“Gee, thanks.” I nudge him and he uses the contact to deepen the moment, catching my gaze before I can look away.
“I owe you an apology, Robyn. About the way I acted. Not just with Jase, but ever since that summer, when you ended things between us. I was surprised and hurt. I took what I had for granted. Afterward, when you tried to make nice and I acted like an asshole, that was my own stupid bullshit getting in the way and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I let my macho male crap interfere with your job. I’m going to do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
I am officially stunned. Dallas Lark doesn’t do humility or apologies. Maybe Dallas Walker does. Hell, now I’m confused.
“Well, um, thank you. Apologies accepted.” I smile and he grins back in a way that scrambles my brain.
“Anyway, I think you were right,” he tells me. “About boundaries.”
No I wasn’t. Screw boundaries, I want to say. I sip my fruity waste of a drink and nearly choke. “You do?”
“Yep.” His voice is low and husky, raking over my skin as if I’m sitting here naked. “I think our problem is that we haven’t communicated what we each want. This isn’t a situation where we can afford to get caught up and confused about what’s going on. The first boundary should be we only have sex when you want to. I won’t initiate our sleepovers anymore. I’ll wait for you to tell me what you want.”
I huff out a breath. “Hope you enjoy waiting.”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Sometimes I do. When the reward is worth it.”
It’s like he speaks the language of my lady parts. Stupid traitorous lady parts.
“Any other boundaries I should know about?”
“I won’t interfere with your job anymore, swear it. But that goes both ways. We both have to accept that sometimes our jobs might mean interacting with people that make us uncomfortable or even damn near blind with jealousy. But at the end of the day, we both know whose bed we’re going to.”
“And you think I’m going to yours?” I should not encourage this behavior. I really shouldn’t. But his confidence has always been the sexiest thing about him. Besides his eyes. And his hands. And his ass in those damn jeans.
“A man can hope,” he says softly. “You want to dance, pretty girl?”
He’s followed my line of sight back to Drew and Katie.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“The offer is there,” he tells me with a noncommittal lift of his shoulder. “Just sayin’.”
I have a feeling the “offer” is about a lot more than dancing. I decide to go with that feeling. “If we were going to, um, dance, we’d need more than boundaries. We’d need some hard rules. Ones I’m not sure you can follow.”
Dallas grins, clearly feeling victorious since I’m playing along. “Lay ’em on me, darlin’.”
“You suck at sticking to boundaries, Dallas. And I’m serious, this gets out or you pull any more of that crap on me about Jase, I could lose my job. It could cost us both our place on this tour and I really, really would not be happy about that.”
“Me, either,” he agrees. “So we agree to be discreet. Keep it casual. And to give each other space if needed regarding work obligations.”
“Except when it comes to your manager,” I amend. “I kind of want to cut her every time she comes near you.”
Dallas chuckles and the sound rolls through me, massaging my tense muscles from the inside out. “Stake your claim then, baby. Whatever you need to do.”
I glare at him and he throws his hands up.
“Or don’t. Totally up to you.”
“Dallas . . .” It sounds so simple, but we both know it won’t be. I am jealous of Katie and Drew for far more than their sexual chemistry. They can date. They can hook up. They can do whatever they want. Dallas and I have all this . . . messy history in the way.
“Don’t back out on me now, sweetheart. The way I see it, this is a win-win. You don’t have time to meet new guys right now, and I don’t need some groupie throwing herself at me so I can screw up and get her pregnant in a moment of weakness. You think some of those women don’t pull that shit on purpose so they can trap guys in my situation in hopes of tying themselves to the money and the fame? I wish that wasn’t true but that’s my reality. Most of my fans are amazing and loyal and precious to me. But some . . . well, you’ve met my manager. So tell me what to do to make you see that I mean what I say. I know I’ve been an ass and I am truly sorry. But we’re not kids anymore. We can do this. We should do this. I can behave like an adult. I can.”
“Prove it,” I tell him, not sure if that’s even possible.
“You got it.” He dips his head and stands. I’m expecting him to reach for my hand, either to lead me to the dance floor or out the door, but he doesn’t. Instead he marches his crazy self directly up to the stage and says something to the band that’s playing. The music stops and everyone turns their attention to him.
“Evenin’ y’all,” he says into the mic as he straps on the guy’s guitar. “My name’s Dallas Lark, and I have to prove something to my girl tonight. So bear with me, folks.”
Katie makes a face at me and I just shake my head. With Dallas, you just never know what to expect. I gave up trying to figure him out long ago. It’s more fun to be surprised anyway.
When he plays the opening chords and the band chimes in, I laugh out loud.
Dallas strums and sings, entertaining the crowd like the professional that he is and the entire bar is mesmerized.
His rendition of “I Walk the Line” is a hit and I wonder how many people know that the man on the small stage before them is the same one who played to a sold-out amphitheater a few hours ago.