“I misspoke.” Despite his good-natured ribbing, I feel the need to defend myself. “I work in advertising sales and represent four radio stations, one of which is K-Country.” I shrug. “It isn’t a prerequisite to like the music the radio station plays. I just need to have the highest listenership ratings to demand top dollar when I sell my airspace.”
Even with my explanation, Josh’s smile expands. “Well, Anna, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Josh Harper, the bassist for Outlaw.”
Speechless, I can only stare, his words hanging in the air. Then I giggle as I hiss, “Holy shit! My best friend loves you guys. She is going to roast me, Josh. I’m so sorry that I don't know enough about your band to recognize you!”
Holding up his hand, he replies, “Please don’t apologize. It’s a delightful change of pace to meet a beautiful woman for a date and not have her know who I am.” His compliment makes me blush, but I hope it’s imperceptible in the muted lighting.
The server delivers our drinks to our table, interrupting the flow of our conversation. As soon as she turns her back to our table, Josh’s phone lights up with an incoming call. He sends me an apologetic glance before taking the call.
“Hey, buddy.” The apprehension on his face morphs into pleasure. “Okay, okay. That all sounds good, though, right?” He bites his lower lip before clenching his fist in quiet celebration. “They agreed to the changes? Fuck, yeah!” Josh raises his head and looks at me, smiling. “Man, I’d love to celebrate with y’all tonight, but I’m on a date rightnow. Okay, yeah. Sounds good. Bye.” He slips his phone into his pocket. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries.” Cocking my head to one side, I remark, “Sounds like you got good news.”
“Not good news, great news,” he corrects me. “Outlaw’s current contract expires after the release of our fifth album, and our label has just agreed to meet all our stipulations for our new contract. We assumed they’d play hardball during negotiations and leave us in limbo for a bit.”
“Josh, even I know they’d be idiots to lose your band to the competition.”
Impulsively, Josh leans forward, cushions my cheeks in his hands, and places a swift kiss on my lips. His exuberant display of affection surprises me, but I don’t mind it. “Sorry, I got swept up in the moment.”
“Don’t apologize unless you don’t plan on doing it again,” I simper.
Oh my God, who am I?This drink must be stronger than I thought.
“That I can do.” Abruptly, Josh swears and removes his phone from his pocket. “Sorry, Anna. It’s Rowdy, one of my bandmates. Do you mind if I take this?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all. Answer it, please.”
“You’re an angel, Anna.” He swipes right to answer the call and brings the phone up to his ear, never breaking eye contact with me. “What do you want, Rowdy? I’m with an incredibly beautiful and patient woman, and it’s rude that y’all keep interrupting our date.”
It’s the second time Josh has called me beautiful, and it warms me from the inside out. It’s been so long since a man’s compliment has sent tingles down my spine. That hasn’t happened since the night I met Hayes.
Shit, I’m not supposed to be thinking about Hayes when I'm on a date with another man.
“Good God, y’all are obnoxious. Yes, I’ll ask, but you needy fuckers are going to owe me.” Josh rolls his eyes and lowers his phone. “I’m so sorry to ask you this… but would you mind if the rest of the band meets us here? Rowdy's wife is cranky and pregnant, and she’s only given him tonight to celebrate.”
“Of course! Don’t be silly. Y’all should celebrate as a band. I can head out, and maybe we can pick this up another night?”
Josh grabs my hand, imploring me, “No, please stay. I spend almost all my free time with these guys. I don’t want you to leave.”
“Okay, then,” I nod, relenting. “I’ll stay.”
Josh sends me a wink, turning his attention back to his phone call. “Okay, man. She’s down. I’ll get the first round of drinks ordered, but y’all are picking up the tab since you’re ruining our date. See you soon.”
“I’m glad I know next to nothing about Outlaw, so I’m not nervous about meeting the other members of your band.”
“They’re going to love that you don’t give a shit about who they are, believe me.”
Josh flags down our server and asks about moving to a larger table. He orders several bottles of champagne and a bottle of expensive whiskey with lots of shot glasses.
I text Laura to let her know that I’m having fun and will be out late. I do not, however, tell her who Josh is. If I did, I guarantee she’d find a neighbor to stay with the girls so she could crash the party.
I’m on my second glass of champagne when I hear Josh greet someone behind me. The band has arrived. I take a deep breath and pray I don’t embarrass myself among these famous people.
The first guy strides confidently to our table. He’s a big dude, tall and strapping, with a thick beard and mustache, and a kind smile. He ignores Josh in favor of greeting me instead.
“Hey, I’m Rowdy. Thank you for letting us intrude on your evening.” He shakes my hand, and I feel myself blushing. These country boys are so polite, and I love their Southern accents.
I might have to rethink my stance on country bands. Not so much their music, but the musicians themselves.
