Loving Dallas(45)

I don’t bother filling her in on the details of our little arrangement.

“I’m fine. It’s been surprisingly okay.” Better than okay, really, but this is my mom here. Plus she doesn’t know why we broke up and I have no plans of ever telling her.

I was always closer with my dad, but after he passed away, my mom and I definitely bonded. When she got sick, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing another person I loved so I became dedicated to making sure I did everything in my power to keep her healthy.

The older I get, the more I realize how much she and I have in common. We’re both control freaks with slight OCD tendencies who obsess about plans and lists and agendas. Funny, when I was younger, those things drove me half-crazy about her. Now I get it, though, the need for control in a world of chaos. You have to take it where you can get it.

Once I’ve convinced her I can handle the tour, she moves on from Dallas and peppers me with questions about Jase Wade. I knew she was a fan, but sheesh. When she asks if he’s seeing anyone, I’m almost nervous for him since I got her backstage passes for the show tomorrow night. Maybe I should have them bulk up Wade’s security. Dixie will be there, too, though Dallas texted and said Gavin wouldn’t be able to make it. It’s odd to me that he can’t come to his best friend’s show, but Gavin Garrison has never been the predictable type.

After a long afternoon with my mom, one that ended with us hearing Dallas on the radio telling the world that he’s a single man, I’m thankful when I get home to a note from Katie saying she’s staying with a friend and not to wait up.

I’ve just decided to run myself a hot bubble bath when my phone buzzes in my purse. I retrieve it, smiling when I see Dallas on the screen.

“Hey, you,” I say. “Enjoying being home in the great state of Texas?”

“It could be worse, I guess.” He doesn’t sound like himself. He sounds like someone ran over his dog, or maybe even him.

“You okay?”

“Can I come by? It doesn’t have to be for . . . you know. I just want to see you.”

“Look at you being all sweet. I kind of like this side of you. Maybe we should come home more often.”

“That so?”

“Come on over, Lark. I was just about to take a bubble bath but I guess I can wait. Care to join me?”

“You? Naked? In a tub full of bubbles?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dallas is quiet for a second. “Well, I guess if you’re going to twist my arm . . .”

I’m still laughing when we hang up.

I open the door in nothing but my robe and Dallas smiles despite the sadness in his eyes.

“Hey,” I say, ushering him inside. “What’s up with you? I thought you’d be happy to be home, or close to home at least.”

“I had radio interviews today. One with Ricky Ray and several with a few local stations,” he tells me, taking off his dark brown jacket and hanging it in the corner on one of my bar stools. “Want to know what question they all wanted an answer to?”

I nod. I heard most of the one with Ricky Ray but I still have no idea what has him looking so beat down.

“ ‘What happened to Leaving Amarillo, Dallas? Why’d you leave your band, Dallas? Did you get too big for them, Dallas? Were they holding you back, Dallas?’ ”

His tone has turned from mocking to angry by the end of his diatribe.

“That’s more than one question,” I note quietly.

“Same general idea.” He pauses to shake his head. “Basically around here I’m the jerk-off that broke up a beloved local band to go be a fame whore. So to answer your question, no, I’m not all that thrilled to be home.”

“They don’t know the whole story.” I don’t even think I know the whole story, for that matter.

“No, but that’s why they make assumptions and ask. It was like being pinned into a corner all f*cking day. What was I supposed to tell them? Dixie was grieving and the label is run by a sexist * 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 hell, 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 sexy 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, pushing my robe to the floor.





27 | Dallas

STRANGELY ENOUGH, ROBYN AND I DON’T HAVE SEX IN HER BATHTUB. We talk. And we take turns washing each other’s backs, and though my dick remains mostly hard, it’s the most relaxed I’ve felt since the tour started.