Maybe it would be best not to mention that he was one of those men Sorrel was talking about. He wanted to know the lady, too.
“You’ll have to go behind the bar. Hank makes sure the stage door is locked after she disappears.”
Dan pulled his coat off the back of his chair. “Any of those guys make it behind the curtained door?” he asked casually.
“You’re the first I’ve seen.” Sorrel laughed as if even the thought of the sheriff going back for any other reason than to answer questions would be ridiculous. “But, it being official business, I guess you don’t count.”
Dan fought down the urge to thump Sorrel in the back of his bald head as he followed the bartender to the sliding door hidden behind the bar. Why was it bartenders and preachers always thought they could read people?
Once Dan stepped through, Sorrel closed the door, leaving the sheriff in almost complete darkness. He felt his way along the littered hallway that smelled of old grease and mold. This part of the club must have been the original space before Hank built on and tripled the size of the place.
The owner had spent money fixing up the front, brought in a polished bar made of solid mahogany, but he hadn’t wasted a dime on even lightbulbs backstage. If it wasn’t for the country music whispering through the wall, Dan would swear he’d fallen into a tunnel. Boxes, trash, an old cot, lawn chairs. Finally he saw a beam of light slicing through a slightly open door just beyond the backstage entrance.
Tapping the wood with his fingertips, he slowly pushed the door open.
Brandi Malone was brushing out her beautiful hair in front of a mirror, so he could see both the back and the front of her at once. Her curly hair hung in waves now. She still wore the wine-red silk blouse and tight leggings that she’d worn on stage. For a few minutes he just stared. Women so beautiful didn’t walk through his life often, and he wanted to enjoy every second of it.
Finally, she looked up and her gaze met his reflected in the mirror.
Dan had no idea what to do. Apologize? Tell her how great she was on stage? Run like hell before he got involved? If he had any heart left for love, this lady could break it with a feather. She probably shattered a dozen guys’ fantasies every night.
Brandi stood and walked to him. He loved watching her move. So graceful, as if the music was still in her.
When she stood a few inches away, he breathed her in as if she were the only fresh air he’d known in years.
Without a word, she leaned against his chest and kissed him.
Dan felt like he’d been frozen for so long that he didn’t remember any warmth. Her kiss wasn’t a passionate attack, or a friendly embrace. It was pure need, and Dan couldn’t have turned away if the building caught fire.
He pulled her close, loving the way the feel of her ran the length of his body. The slow kiss he returned was long and hot. Dan took all she offered. He hadn’t kissed a woman like this in years. Correction, he’d never kissed a woman like this. All out. An overload of every sense. Paradise.
When she moved away enough to laugh, he couldn’t stop smiling. He could feel her laughter against his wet lips.
“I missed you, Sheriff,” she whispered as her warm mouth brushed over his cheek. “I knew you’d be back. We’ve haven’t kissed near enough.”
He’d missed her, too, this woman he’d met once, this lady he’d been hoping to find forever. His arm tightened at her waist. “Again,” he whispered.
She settled against him and gave him what he’d asked for, letting the fire build, letting him know she was in no hurry.
Dan took his time moving his hands along her back, molding her closer. He’d felt passion in his life, but he’d never been lost to it.
Finally, she straightened to look at him.
He stared into her green eyes as he slowly moved his hands over her hips. “You feel so good,” he whispered.
She pressed closer and reached around him to close the door, then returned to study him. “I like you out of uniform, Dan. You look more like a man I might be able to handle.”
He thought of saying he’d like her out of everything, but the words wouldn’t come. His hands slowly moved up her back and dug into her hair. Handling her was exactly what he wanted.
She winked, as if reading his mind. Opening her mouth slightly, she neared until almost touching his lips. “I’m thinking you’re a little rusty when it comes to kissing. How about we start with a little practice?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She kissed him again, taking the lead as before, teaching, demanding, making him feel totally alive for the first time in years.
His life had been about his job and raising his daughter. He’d settled for a comfortable kind of loneliness. Eating meals in front of a ball game. Fishing for hours without really planning his day. Never looking for more than he had.
When she first tried to pull away, he didn’t let her go. He couldn’t. For once he wanted more from life than just settling.
She gently shoved again.
Then he heard someone bumping down the hallway toward her dressing room. Dan nodded once and stepped to the side.
By the time Sorrel tapped on the door, Brandi was sitting in her chair and Dan tried to look as if he was listening while he leaned against one of the storage shelves with his notepad in his hand.
Sorrel let himself in, seemingly unaware that he’d interrupted them. “I brought your nachos, Sheriff, and a beer.”
“Thanks,” Dan answered without looking at the food.
“It’s not any trouble. I always bring Miss Malone a sandwich between the last two sets.”
Dan flipped his notepad closed and accepted the plate. “I’ve a few more questions to ask, Brandi.” He tried to sound official. “Then, when you have time, Mr. Douglas, I’d like to ask you a few.”
“Okay,” Sorrel said as he handed Brandi her tray. “But give her time to eat. It’s a short break, and tonight the crowd is already asking when she’ll be back.”
The bartender turned to Brandi. “Now you tell him all about that creep on the back row who’s been bothering you. The sheriff needs to know.” He turned to Dan. “You wouldn’t believe all the losers and nuts that think she’s singing just for them. The other night after closing one almost knocked the back door down. He was so drunk he thought he had a date with her. Said she was sending him secret messages in her songs.”
Dan nodded. He believed the bartender. After Sorrel left, he set his plate down on the table beside her food. “Much as I’d like to go back to doing what we were doing, I think Sorrel is right.” He turned over a box of paper towels over pulled it up as a chair. “How about we eat as you talk?”
She stuck out her lip in a pout, and he almost withdrew his suggestion.
Before saying a word, she brushed his arm when she reached across and took one of his nachos. “It’s nothing really. Part
