They crushed one of their iconic hits, and Bax—the front man—took control of the mic and bellowed, "Y’all know my man Mach is out here at Brek’s tonight on some wild rendezvous."
The bar erupted into wild cheers. Bax pointed to Darla and declared. "This is Darla. She’s here with Mach. They met on what… Nocturnal Cupid?"
The wild cheers whipped into a frenzy. And Darla? Right there in the center of it all, thanks to a bit of rum and a hefty helping of sugar. She waved her arms around and blew kisses like it was nothing—something she would never do. Not without the liquid courage and the Captain Crunch.
"Let’s get to know each other like fam, what do ya say?" Bax asked, sitting on the edge of the stage with a playful confidence as if this were a real question and answer session.
Darla nodded because… rum.
"Let’s do it," she shouted, snatching her drink and heading to the stage.
The other Dimefront ladies went absolutely wild at her agreement. The venue shook with shouts and applause as Bax gestured for Mach to join him on the edge of the stage. Mach set his guitar aside and moseyed that way. His gaze? It never left Darla.
Bax made room for Darla to join him. And she hopped right up on the stage like she had every right to be there.
"So, Darla… you won a contest, huh? How’s it going so far tonight?" Bax asked like he was Dr. Phil.
Mach’s gaze seized hers and she was putty. Pure putty.
"It’s going good," she said. "But, uh, you know, I came tonight because I thought this was an actual date." She paused, chewed on that for a moment. Then asked the audience, "Can you even believe that?"
Bax laughed. The audience laughed. Mach’s expression turned impassive.
"To be honest, I’m glad this isn’t real," she continued. "I mean, can you even imagine? Me with him?" The snort laugh came out all on its own.
Oh God, that had happened. Her cheeks heated. She held her hand over her mouth.
But Bax was on it, draping his arm over her shoulder. Mic in his other hand, he turned to Mach with what seemed to be practiced ease. "You got anything to add?"
Mach was frowning. Likely because she’d just snorted in front of everyone. Tomorrow she’d hate that she did that. Tonight, she smiled to encourage him along.
He took the mic. He looked at her like he was the one who won the dating game.
"What’s wrong with you and me?" he finally asked.
That got the audience all kinds of riled up—including the Dimefront ladies.
"Mach," she pulled the mic to her mouth and said his name, gently. "You and I are from totally different worlds. There’s no reason to mix things that don’t belong together. I don’t do celebrities. They don’t do me. It’s like our little thing."
She said this with a whole lotta sass and a hefty helping of confidence.
"Bullshit," he said under his breath. Then he added, "Have you ever had a shot with someone famous?"
"No. Of course not." Also, hold up. She looked to the audience. "Did he just bullshit me?"
Bax was totally loving this. The audience ate it up. And Darla? Darla was on it—just letting herself enjoy the moment.
Mach’s jaw went slack at her declaration and the dare in his eyes was clear as the sun setting on the Rockies.
"Wait," she continued. "Let’s be honest with ourselves. No one here believes we could be more than two people on a publicity date."
"Not with that attitude, they won’t," he countered.
Bax moved the mic back and forth with an ease that seemed practiced.
"You don’t like predictability," she announced. "And it’s practically listed on my name tag at work."
The way Mach stared at her made her squirm in an uncomfortable new way. Uncomfortable and something else… excited?
"How do you know what I like or don’t like?" he asked, and then the audience and Bax and the Dimefront ladies, they all slipped into the background. This was only the two of them having a conversation.
"Mach." She lifted her eyebrows. "You are a rockstar. It’s not hard to put it together."
Now that? That brought on a smile from him. He full-on beamed like it was a good thing.
"Nothing about…well…you…says anything but roll with it," she continued, since she was marching on toward whatever point this was becoming.
"And you don’t roll with it?" he asked, as though he had paid zero attention to anything she’d said up to that point.
She shook her head anyway in answer to his question.
"You know what my life needs right now?" she asked.
"Bet you’re gonna tell me." That damn dimple high on his cheek above the beard made an appearance.
Honestly, it was a good thing this whole shebang was a farce. Because, if this date were real, there was a chance she would’ve seriously enjoyed his attention. It would totally toss her off kilter. Have her questioning things that didn’t need questioning.
"Better predictability," she said. "That’s what my life needs right now." More stability. Maybe she should go for something totally predictable like that Nurses on the Frontline program she’d been thinking about. Her entire day would be mapped out for her. All she would have to do is show up.
She gulped at what seemed like an a-ha moment.
"I have an idea." Mach said this low, like it was only for her. The words were sultry. Gravelly. Yummy.
And then it wasn’t only them. The rest of the room came into focus. Bax between them. The mic at Mach’s lips as he said, "Spend tonight with me."
The room zipped to a pinprick. Did he just…? Had he just…?
Spend tonight with me. That’s what he’d said. Like he was fresh off the set of a daytime soap opera show. Yes, he’d said it! To her, no less. In front of everybody.
Frozen in space, she did nothing but take a decent pull of her piña colada. Not the best choice, because when a piece of coconut got caught against her throat, she had to choke it down. She did her best to do it without too much fanfare.
He paused before saying anything else. Appearing to ensure she wouldn’t stop breathing before he said anything else.
Mach waited, and dammit, he was so gorgeous. He was so far out of her league that he played a different sport. But here he was, watching her lips like she’d dribbled piña colada on them, and he seriously wanted to lick it off.
She shivered.
No. No shivering. No flutters. She had to respond first.
He hadn’t said something simple like, "Let’s hang out." Nor had he asked something direct like, "Wanna fuck?" This was a situation that required a whole heaping spoonful of clarity.
"Are you asking me to hook up?" she asked.
The smolder in his gaze was enough to warm even the coldest blended cocktail.
"Let me show you how fun things get when you let them be," he said instead of a direct answer. And the husky tone of his words made her whole body hum. There was a crackle in the air between them. Some kind of chemical induced promise happening.
No one—not even Tom—had ever made that happen before. Tom hadn’t ever spoken to her with anything but a perfunctory effort that did not elicit whole-body hums.