The meal was raucous, the conversation inappropriate, just as Delaney had come to expect from this group. These guys were fun, and funny—flirty for certain, but with such a Southern gentleman flair it made her snicker right along with them. Their overt attention toward her was harmless, but still flattering. Plus she was in a damn fine mood after last night. How could she not be? Grant seemed to be in a similar state of mind, and even now couldn’t manage to be next to her without there being some kind of physical contact between them. Yes, she needed to tell him the truth, but she’d worry about that later.
After everyone had finished eating, the Paradise Brothers and Sammy made short work of getting what they needed from the bus and setting up the stage. Besides their group, there were only a handful of people milling around in the Jungle Room Lounge. Even most of the Elvis impersonators had disappeared, probably to go back to their lives as accountants and dentists. Delaney excused herself to use the ladies’ room, and when she came back, Reggie was tuning some instruments. She wandered over to the stage and lightly tapped a few notes on the piano.
“You play, honeybun?” Reggie asked, glancing her way.
“A little.”
“I’m trying to tune some stuff. Want to give me a hand?” he asked.
She glanced over at Grant. He was sitting at the table with the rest of the group while Sissy told some animated story that involved much waving of her hands. Judging from his expression of consternation, it was either a very involved story, or he was just trying very hard not to stare at her cleavage. Delaney could hardly fault him if he had been staring at it. Sissy’s cleavage was spectacular.
“Sure, I can help you,” Delaney said to Reggie. She sat down on the piano bench and felt an eager tremble run through her. She hadn’t played in weeks. Add that to her list of things she missed about home.
She stroked a few keys, played a few more notes, and Reggie plunked a bass string.
“Can you give me an A?”
They worked together for a few minutes, her plunking, him tuning. “You know any songs?” he asked.
She sat up straighter. “I know lots of songs. Pick one.”
“‘Ode to Joy’?”
She looked over her shoulder and frowned at him. “Seriously? Everyone knows ‘Ode to Joy.’ Even people who don’t play piano know ‘Ode to Joy.’ I’ve got something better for you.”
She started playing one of her favorites, a song her dad had written but never recorded. She knew this one by heart, every note, and as soon as she’d struck the first note, she got all caught up in it, forgetting there was anyone else in the room. It was just her and the piano.
When she finished, the smattering of people in the lounge clapped, and she flushed all over with the heat of her stupidity. She’d let her ego get the best of her. So much for keeping a low profile.
Reggie stepped closer and leaned over the piano, his dark eyes gleaming. “You’re pretty good on that thing, honeybun.”
“Thanks.” She pulled her bangs down. Hiccup.
He flashed a Reggie-style grin and his eyebrows twitched. “In fact, watching you tickle those ivories is getting me a little aroused.”
She plunked a few sharp notes. “You sure know how to charm the ladies, don’t you?”
“I do, actually, but I’m just messing with you.” Still, he leaned forward even closer and lowered his voice. “But I gotta say, even though I’ve charmed a lot of ladies, and I do mean, a lot, I’m damn good with faces, and yours has been distracting me since the first moment you climbed on board our tour bus.”
All of a sudden, the oxygen felt a little thin in here. She stared down at the keys and started playing “Ode to Joy” just as a distraction. “Um, thank you, I guess?”
He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m not hitting on you. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You got that gorgeous face, and a rockin’ body. I can think of at least twenty-three things that I’d want to do to you.” He looked her up and down so blatantly she could only laugh, and yet, she already knew this was leading to no place she wanted to be.
“So, yeah,” he continued, “I’d have remembered you for sure if we’d gone horizontal, which is why I found myself so perplexed when you got on the bus. Now I’ve finally figured it out.”
A sensation of imminent doom made her fingers stumble and hit a wrong note. Dun-dun-dunnnn.
Reggie’s voice sank so low it was nearly coming from his chest, and he leaned so close she could smell his honky-tonk cologne.
“I know who you are.”
He said it so quietly she might have imagined it, but one look at his expression and she knew she’d heard him correctly. Still, she tried to deflect him. “I’m nobody special. Just Elaine.”