Neon Dreams: Loving Dallas Part 17

"No, but that's why they make a.s.sumptions and ask. It was like being pinned into a corner all f.u.c.king day. What was I supposed to tell them? Dixie was grieving and the label is run by a s.e.xist a.s.shole she didn't have the energy or the desire to try and persuade? Oh, and Gavin didn't particularly want to spend the next three to five years in jail for breaking his probation? I mean, what the h.e.l.l, you know?"

"I don't really know," I say soothingly. "But I can imagine. And I'm sorry. I wish I could've been there for you." I step closer to him, hoping to absorb some of the frustration rolling off him and ease his anguish "Yeah?" He looks down at me with a lifted brow. The heat warming in his gaze tells me I was relatively successful. "Well, you're here now." He reaches for the belt to my robe and I let him tug it off. The sides fall open, revealing my naked body.

"That I am. And so are you."

"So now that we're both here," he says, giving me a s.e.xy grin that has trouble written all over it. "What should we do with ourselves?"

"Bath first," I tell him. "Because I've already run the water and I like it hot."

"I like it hot, too," he says, pus.h.i.+ng my robe to the floor.

27 Dallas.

STRANGELY ENOUGH, ROBYN AND I DON'T HAVE s.e.x IN HER BATHTUB. We talk. And we take turns was.h.i.+ng each other's backs, and though my d.i.c.k remains mostly hard, it's the most relaxed I've felt since the tour started.

Lying on my stomach on her bed watching her slather her entire body in sweet-smelling lotion, I feel like I'm being let in on some secret female ritual. All I did was dry off with one of her fluffy expensive towels. But she had a strategic five-point process to execute after our bath. After the lotion, there's deodorant, then some type of cream for face and another kind for her hair, which she combs through with her fingers before slipping her robe back on.

When she climbs onto my back and begins ma.s.saging me, I suspect I've died and gone to heaven. I can feel her against me, the warmth at her center, and the swells of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s when she leans forward. It's erotic and the scent of her filling the room is intoxicating.

Her phone ringing from somewhere else in her apartment breaks the spell and I groan in protest when she gets up to answer it.

She's gone so long I almost fall asleep. When she returns, she looks both excited and stressed-out.

"Now you're the one who needs the ma.s.sage," I say while sitting up. She smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Uh-oh. What happened?"

Robyn steps closer to the bed and I notice her hands are behind her back. "I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

I can't even begin to fathom what either could be.

"Uh, bad news first, I guess. Then maybe the good news can cheer me up."

She nods. "Okay. That was my boss. I won't be at your show tomorrow night. My mom is going to be so b.u.mmed."

f.u.c.k. "Why? Because of me? Because of us?" If Midnight Bay is firing her over this, I'll be having words with them first thing tomorrow morning.

She grins in response to my panic attack. "Nope. Actually I'm not supposed to tell you."

"But you're going to," I tell her, because like h.e.l.l I'm dropping it without an explanation.

"Yeah. I think you've dealt with enough today with the radio interviews. A surprise party is probably the last thing you need thrown at you."

"A surprise party? What am I, twelve? It's not even my birthday."

Robyn laughs softly and produces a bottle of champagne from behind her back. "The numbers just came out. Jase's alb.u.m went platinum and your single went gold."

Whoa.

I can't believe Mandy or someone from the label hasn't called me. h.e.l.l, maybe they have. I forgot I turned my phone off when I got here.

"No s.h.i.+t?"

"No s.h.i.+t," she says. "Congratulations, Dallas. Midnight Bay is throwing you and Jase both a celebratory surprise party next weekend the night before your show in Nashville. I'm in charge of setting it up. I leave first thing in the morning. Act surprised."

I am surprised. I'm in f.u.c.king shock.

I have a gold single.

This is huge, and not just for me. Since she wrote the song, my sister will get a nice, fat royalty check, which, in a way, helps me feel like I'm still taking care of her as much as I possibly can.

Robyn is grinning like a maniac and I a.s.sume I am, too. But there's something else in her eyes. Worry, or anxiety, or . . . something.

"So you have to go to Tennessee tomorrow?"

"Yep. I have one week to plan this thing so they want me on it as soon as possible. Tell Dixie I'm sorry. Katie will take care of the Midnight Bay and VIP sections tomorrow night. I'm hoping she'll take care of my mom, too. She was really excited about meeting Jase."

I let out a loud groan of protest. "G.o.d. Even Belinda likes him more than me? Christ. That woman used to make me grilled cheese sandwiches. I even ate them if she burned them black. Still, I come second to Wade?"

"Er, no, babe. I think you're like fourth on my mom's list. There's Wade. Then Luke Bryan and George Strait."

I hold my hands over my heart like I've been shot. "You are not funny."

"I'm just being honest."

"Kick a man while he's down, why don't ya?"

"You, Dallas Lark, are not down. Your single just went gold. We're celebrating. And anyway, I prefer to lick a man while he's down," she says, catching me off guard by pouring a trickle of champagne down my stomach then licking it off my abs. And then lower. And then mother of all things holy, her sweet lips wrap around my c.o.c.k and I slide my fingers into her still-damp hair. "Congratulations, Dallas," she says seductively before taking my full length into her mouth.

I know she didn't make my single go gold, but I'm overwhelmed with grat.i.tude just because she exists. I came here feeling defeated and miserable and now . . . now I could take on the world. As long as she's there beside me.

"Come here, baby," I say, using brute force to pull her upward, past my c.o.c.k, past my abs, and higher than my chest. When she yelps out a small sound of surprise at where I've placed her body, I let out a low, dark chuckle. "I never said thank you for the ma.s.sage."

"Yeah, it is. I know. I'm still in shock," I say into the phone. "Thanks, Mr. Borscetti. I really appreciate that. Yes, sir. Sounds great."

Robyn is already dressed when I disconnect the call with the head of my record label, which is a travesty since I had plans of reciprocation for how well she took care of me last night. I've never really had anyone else take care of me before. I've always been the caretaker. But last night Robyn bathed me, ma.s.saged me, and to celebrate my single's success she blew my mind in ways I never thought she would allow. I'd hoped we could spend the day celebrating my gold single in bed but I'd turned on my phone and had a million missed calls to return.

And now she's leaving, heading for Nashville while I'm stuck behind in Texas.

"This is a switch," I say while walking out of her bedroom. "I'm staying home while you run off to the country music capital. Let me know if you decide to cut a record while you're there."

"I'll do that. Have you seen my keys?"

"I think they were on the kitchen counter last night."

"Thanks. Stay as long as you like but maybe put some pants on because Katie could come home at any time." Robyn leans down and places a chaste kiss on my lips.

"I'm right behind you. I need to check in with Dixie, let her know to be watching for a royalty check, and try to stop by and see Gavin at work since he can't make the show tonight."

"Okay," she says, her voice trailing out of the room as she continues the search for her keys.

"Everything okay, babe?" I ask once I'm dressed and Robyn has her keys in hand. "You late?"

"What?" Her eyes go so wide I feel like I've said something wrong, but I have no idea what it could be.

"You're rus.h.i.+ng around like a crazy person when you generally live by a tight and color-coded schedule. I was just wondering if you were running behind or something."

"Oh." Robyn breathes an audible sigh of relief. "No. I'm fine. Just a little stressed about this party. It's a lot to plan in a short amount of time."

"Got it. Well, if anyone can pull it off, it's you."

"Thanks." She smiles at me but she's still behaving kind of strangely.

I lean in for a kiss and she lets me steal one, but then she pulls back. "You know, I was thinking."

I can already feel the kiss of death coming on our arrangement. "Highly overrated, thinking. I don't recommend it."

"I'm serious. We said we'd keep this discreet, so at the party, maybe let's just each do our thing. You mingle with your fans and I'll focus on keeping everything running smoothly. Both of my bosses will be there so it might be in our best interest to just-"

"Pretend we don't know each other?" I don't mean to sound p.i.s.sed, but when I said discreet I didn't exactly mean hiding, either.

"No. I don't mean that. That would be weird. Just no PDA at work functions. You tell anyone who asks that you're single and focusing on your career and I'll do the same. Like you did on the Ricky Ray show."

"Heard that, did you?"

She nods, but there's no judgment.

"You ashamed of me, Breeland?"

She rolls her eyes, but I'm only half-kidding.

"Don't be silly, Dallas. Of course not. You know how proud I am of you. I just don't want to get in your way at your party and I don't want my bosses to suspect something inappropriate is going on and start asking questions. Technically they could fire me for this."

"But then after the party we can get inappropriate, right? Say midnightish? My hotel room?"

"You're incorrigible, Dallas Lark."

"You're fickle, Robyn Breeland."

"Hey, that's not true," she says, placing a hand on her hip and jutting it out so I can't walk past her. "Take that back, jerk."

"Come on, woman. Last night you practically devoured me whole. Today you're all distance and no PDA and making rules about what's appropriate and what's not."

"I'm not trying to be coy or fickle or whatever. I'm doing you a favor."

I nod. "Uh-huh. Well, for the record, I prefer the kind of favors you did me last night versus this rules-and-boundaries brand of favors."

She shoves at my chest.

"I meant the ma.s.sage. Why? What favor did you think I was referring to?"

"Check yourself before you wreck yourself, Lark," she teases. Thankfully she lets me kiss her smart mouth once more before she heads out the door. "For real, though," she begins again once I've walked her to her car, a cute sporty black Jetta I didn't even know she owned. Fits her. Sleek, sophisticated, and pet.i.te enough to be called adorable. "I don't want to cramp your style, Superstar."

She's mocking Mandy but I don't blame her. I mock Mandy in my head all the time.

"You never cramp my style, Red," I say, using Jase's nickname for her just because he bugs me.

"Okay then, bad choice of words. I don't want to hold you back or weigh you down. Lots of people are going to want a piece of you at this party, Dallas, and some of them it will benefit you to get to know. So I'm going to hang back behind the scenes where I belong and let you do your thing."

"Whatever you say, babe." I reach for her hand and pull her toward my truck. "I'll drive you to the airport so you don't have to pay for long-term parking."

"You sure?"

"Yep. Hop in."

When we get to the airport I can only walk her to the security gate. We stop and she gives me a quick hug. "See you in a week. Have a great show tonight. Make sure my mom doesn't run off with Jase Wade."

"Will do," I promise. "And hey, about what you said, about holding me back or weighing me down?"

Her brow crinkles. "Yeah?"

"That's a load of malarkey and you know it, Breeland. If anything, you keep me grounded so all of this craziness doesn't go to my head."

She smiles. "Well, someone has to."

28 Dallas.

SOUND CHECK AT THE GEXA ENERGY PAVILION DOESN'T TAKE TOO long and I'm glad. Dixie texted earlier that she'd come early and she's bringing Robyn's mom. I've always loved Belinda Breeland like she was my own mother and I wasn't kidding when I said I was wounded at the thought of her liking Jase Wade more than me. I never claimed to be mature. Blame the testosterone.

I brought Belinda a giant box of her favorite G.o.diva chocolates. Maybe she's still a little mad at me for not working things out with Robyn back in the day, but I am determined to win her over.

After I've put my guitar aside and cleared the stage so Wade could warm up, I head back to my bus in hopes of catching a quick nap before the show. Feels like I haven't slept in a month.

Halfway there I see my sister and Belinda making their way backstage and I stop dead in my tracks.

"Stop gaping at me like I'm about to faint dead away, Dallas Lark," Belinda says to greet me. "I'm fine. I've been in remission for months now. I just wear the scarves still because I like them and I'm not used to the short hair."

She's about twenty pounds thinner than I remember and even with the scarf I can tell that her once-long red locks are now cropped in a short pixie cut. She didn't come to Papa's funeral. Robyn mentioned that she was ill and couldn't make it. I thought she meant like a cold or something.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know . . ."

"That I was in remission? Surely Robyn told you." She shakes her head. "That girl acts like I'm going to relapse any second, though. You should see the stuff she makes me eat." Belinda laughs lightly, probably hoping to break the tension I've suddenly created with my inability to conceal my shock. "When the doctors gave us the lists of restricted and recommended foods, you would've thought they were handing her a dietary Bible."