Second Song Cowboy (Second Chance) (17 page)

BOOK: Second Song Cowboy (Second Chance)
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Dillon shook Chance’s hand and then Duke’s. “I thought you’d be busy at home,
Duke. I heard Lila just made you a daddy for a second time.”

Duke scrubbed his jaw as pride lit his expression. “Chase turned two months old yesterday.”

“I’m happy for you, pal,” Dillon said. As Dante listened, he couldn’t help but smile as the men compared happiness. A part of him wanted to brag that he had a kid on the way too, but he stayed quiet.

“You remember Dante?” Dillon asked.

“Sure, we met on the circuit, of course you were as wet behind the ears then as the boy who just got slammed by Mercy,” Duke laughed as he pounded Dante on the back in a manly greeting.

“I had my fair share of hits, no doubt.” Dante remembered the last ride. It was on a feisty bull much like Mercy
. Dante had walked away with a broken a wrist.

“Good times
, for sure. Now I’ve traded in my chaps for a burp cloth. Times are even better,” Duke’s chest thrust forward.. He was a tough man, but there was a certain softness about him since he’d become a dad.

“Did Leslie tell you that she and Stryker are expecting also?” Chance asked Dillon.

“No, she didn’t. I bet they’re full of joy. I hate to ask, but will this interfere with the horse feed project?” Concern etched creases around his eyes. A lot depended on the deal.

“You know her, nothing will slow her down. She’s looking forward to
moving ahead on this.”

After chatting
a few more minutes, Chance and Duke excused themselves. They wanted to get home before dark. Once they walked away, Dante shook his head. “Those are a couple of whooped boys.” He laughed.

“Like you have an
y room to talk. You wait. Your days of freedom are numbered.”

Dante wanted to argue, but he knew his brother spoke truth.

“We better get going ourselves,” Dillon said. “I want to find Peyton before the show.”

“I guess we should.” Dante
took a step and stopped. Cassie was waving from a few feet away. Slipping his gaze down her wavy hair, low-cut shirt and too-tight skirt, he trailed his gaze back up and planted them on her twinkling gaze.
Fuck!
This was the first time he’d seen her since they’d broken up. He could have done without a reunion.

“Cassie.” Dillon
dipped his hat in greeting.

“Surprise to see you two here.
I’ve come to see April Rayne. How about you fellows?” Neither answered. Sighing, she laid her hands on hips and cocked a smile that once upon a time would have had Dante panting. No sign of a southern salute or heavy breathing now. He chuckled, which got a smile from her. She’d misunderstood his amusement.

“I’m going to go and search for my wife. Don’t dilly-
dawdle, bro. The show will be starting soon.”

Dante read every underlying meaning to Dillon’s words.

“I guess Dilly is still sore, huh?” Cassie watched him leave then dug the toe of her boot into the dirt.

“I wouldn’t say he’s sore,” D
ante said. “He’s never been better.”

He glimpsed regret in her expression.
“How about you? Are you angry with me?” She stepped closer, playing with the top button of his shirt as she stared up at him in skilled seduction.

“No, I’m not.
” He stepped back. “You breaking up with me was the best thing that could have happened. It helped me put my life in order, set my priorities straight.”

Her hand
, suspended in air, dropped and her bottom lip puckered. Had he actually fallen for this shit at one time? Now he saw the act. “Maybe we can sit down one day and talk about the past. I still think about you often.” Her tongue swept across her red lips as she leaned forward to show off plump tits spilling over the top of her tight bra.

“I have to be somewhere. You take care of yourself, you hear?” He brushed past her and heard her moan of disappointment until a
swift wind came along and carried it the same place where his emotions for her had gone.
Lost
.

****

April calmed herself backstage at the arena. Counting backwards then working on a relaxing breathing technique, some of the stress faded. No matter how big or small a show, her nerves always got the best of her. Through years of learning to control her body, she no longer threw up before she went on stage.

A knock came at
the door. “Come in.”

Dante peeked his head in. “I wanted to see you before you went out.”

Butterflies tickled her insides. “I didn’t know if you’d make it to see me.”

“Miss you performing
? Never.” He stepped into the room and closed the door. “And someone got us the best seats in the place.”


Hmm, I wonder who has that kind of pull.” She wriggled her brows. “I’m glad you’re here.” Standing, she crossed the short distance and kissed his cheek. “I’m always a wreck before a show.”

He blinked. “But you seem calm.”

“Not at all,” she admitted.

“Let me see what I can do.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her against his body.
She got a whiff of floral perfume on his collar, but she didn’t have time to think about it before he lowered his lips to hers, sweeping his tongue past hers to lick the roof of her mouth. She trembled as her body melted against him as she succumbed to the feeling of complete desire.

When he started to pull away, she brought her hands up around his neck and pushed her hips over his
rising zipper. His masculine scent, his taste, his hands on her back made her insides turn to mush. Her body ached for more as everything around them disappeared and only the passion remained.

Knock! Knock!

Dante stiffened. “Who the hell?”

“Miss
Rayne, we need you on stage.”

“Darn,” she whispered, not making a move.

“I guess you should go.” His voice was husky.

“Yes.” Removing herself from his arms, she gave herself a quick check in the mirror, red
id her lipstick and gave her hair a tousle. Grabbing a tissue, she stood on tiptoes and wiped his mouth. “The peach lipstick isn’t your color.” She chuckled. “Will I see you after the show?”

“Of course.
I’ll be taking you home.” His grin now was full of mischief.

Another knock came, louder this time.

“Coming.” She winked and exited the door, all nerves settled as she inhaled Dante’s musk from her sequined shirt.

 

 

Chapter
Sixteen

 

THE SHOW WAS a success. April came off stage and headed back through the semi-dark hallway toward the dressing room. She always enjoyed entertaining a crowd, but for some reason, looking out and seeing Dante watching her had made her happier than she could imagine.

Caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until she
was upon the man leaning against the wall. She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better idea who loitered. Was he a crewmember?

As she
continued past him, he nodded. A prickle of warning shot up her spine, but too late for her to react. He was already behind her and pulling her down another hallway. A scream shot up her throat, but was lost as he slammed her against the wall. She looked up, met with the stranger’s dark piercing glare. Tall, broad shouldered with a receding hairline, she didn’t recognize him. His breath reeked of stale whiskey and cigarettes, making her stomach roll. “Hello, darlin’.” His stinky odor singed her nose hairs.

“I th
ink you have the wrong darlin’.” Stepping to the right, a beefy arm came up and blocked her path. A pathetic excuse for a grin curved the corners of his thin mouth. Fear constricted her thoughts and she tried calming her nerves. “I don’t know who you are, but you shouldn’t be back here.”

“I love your voice.” He shifted his weight and almost lost his footing.

Reminding herself to stay calm, she knew how to handle a drunken fan. She’d become a pro. “Thank you. I’m glad you liked the show. I bet a cowboy like you comes to all of my performances.” April dared not inhale deeply for fear she’d get a buzz from his alcohol-laced breath.

His j
aw relaxed some. “Sure do. But bastard bodyguards are usually as bad as buzzards on road kill,” he slurred. His beady glare rolled over her body and she cringed. “Must be my lucky day. Did you wear red just for me?”

“Not entirely. I’m meeting someone in my dressing room and if I don’t show up, he’ll come lo
oking for me. Trust me, we don’t want that to happen.”
Oh Lordy
. She hoped Dante hurried up.

“I
throw a mean punch, doll.” He leaned in closer, his body blocking her view into the main hallway. Her mind raced for ways to get away. Screaming was an option, but would anyone hear? Probably not. The crowd was dispersing and most of the crewmembers were out in the arena clearing the equipment.

Clawing his eyes out was
a choice.

“I think you might like what Big Mike has to offer.” He dropped his hand to his crotch and cupped his groin.

Remain calm. Remain calm. Remain—

The
unzipping of his zipper echoed off the walls.

Her heart sped up.

He fumbled with himself, digging and grunting and April knew it was now or never. Bracing herself against the wall, she brought her hands up and into his chest, sending his clumsy feet off balance. He fell against the wall with a hard thump and groan.

Anger sliced over his expression as he clenched his teeth. “You bitch! I only wanted to make you happy!”

Laughter carried down the hallway and April recognized who it was. “Peyton! Down here!” April yelled.

The stranger turned his cheek,
off guard, as April rushed past him. Alcohol had screwed his coordination and when he reached out he missed grabbing her and fell to his knees.

“April? Where are you?” Peyton’s voice grew closer.

April dashed into the main hallway, running into Peyton and Dillon. Her breathing was ragged as she tried to gather her senses and use her tongue. “Thank God…you two…showed up.”

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Dillon asked.

“There—there was a man—.” She pointed down the murky hall.

Dillon
shot down the dark corridor and Peyton wrapped her arms around April’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Just spooked.”

Peyton dropped her arm and clasped her hands, wringing them nervously. “Did the man have a weapon?” April understood she feared for her husband’s safety.

“No, not that I saw.”

They turned and watched down the hall, not seeing anything, met with only silence.

“Dillon?” Peyton yelled down the hall, her voice filled with
fright.

“It’s okay. I’m fine.”
Dillon’s voice reached them a second before he popped out of the shadows. “Whoever it was, he’s long gone. There’s an exit door at the end of the hall. I looked outside but I didn’t see anything.”

Peyton stepped into his arms and hugged him. “You gave me
a scare. Should we call security?” she asked April.

April shook her head
. “No, it’s too late. He’s gone. He was just a psychotic fan who wanted to get up close and personal.” Her breathing was finally normal, although her heart still raced. “Have you seen Dante?”

D
illon shrugged. “He said he had to run to his truck to get something and he’d be back here.”

“Will you two wait while I grab my things
from the dressing room? I don’t want to walk to the parking lot alone.”

“Sure, April. We’ll stay with you.” Peyton wrapped her fingers around April’s elbow. “I’m glad we came when we did.”

“Me, too.” April forced a smile on her lips. Peyton was as pale as a ghost and April didn’t want to upset her friend any more.

****

Dante hurried his steps through the parking lot, humming the last song April had sung, the one she’d written under the oak tree. He liked the catchy tune about lovers who’d lost each other only to find one another again when the time was right. The message was loud and clear.


Time won’t keep us apart. Our hearts will beat as one…”

He reached his truck, opened the door and a strong scent of perfume tickled his nostrils.
The song lyrics dropped from his lips as he looked across the seat and saw a set of naked breasts. He’d know those tits anywhere. Anger spiraled through his veins. “Cassie, what the hell are you doing in my truck? And where the hell are your clothes?”

Shifting her slender legs and bending one
knee, she revealed tanned flesh all the way up to the apex of her bare inner thighs. The diamond clit ring shone in the overhead golden light. She lifted her arms high above her head, posing in a sexy Marylyn Monroe position that could have made him achingly hard and butter in her hands if he was still stupid.

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