a king-size bed in the middle of Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery.” Adam tried to get comfortable in the big bed, despite the distraction of the woman beside him. He nodded to her, her cue to get ready for her morning show debut. “With me is the ever-effervescent Erica.”
“Good morning, everyone.” Erica smiled into the mic, living up to the nickname he’d just saddled her with. Did she always look this good at a little after six in the morning? And since when had flannel been so sexy?
“We know you were expecting Naughty Nick,” she continued. “But unfortunately, he couldn’t be with us this morning.”
“Just as well,” Adam said. “I’m not into threesomes myself.” Aaargh. Where had that come from? This was not the time for sexual wordplay. “Seriously, folks, Nick was injured last night in a traffic accident on the way home from the Pepsi Center concert. The last report we had he’d just come out of surgery and was doing well. We wish him a speedy recovery.”
“That’s right, Nick. Get well soon.” Erica’s eyes lit with mischief. “Meanwhile, I’m going to do my best to make do with the Hawk here.”
“Make do? Woman, that is harsh. I’m wounded.” Was she really disappointed to be spending the next three days with him instead of Nick?
She laughed and sat cross-legged in the bed, her knee brushing his. “I don’t know. Are you really an early-morning kind of guy?”
You’d think in a king-size bed they could avoid contact. He moved over a little. “Every man is an early morning kind of guy. Didn’t you know that?” There he went with the double entendres again. Was it his years in rock radio, or merely the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about sex around her?
“And I thought Nick was going to be a handful.”
And just what did she think her hands were going to be full of? He dropped his voice to a seductive rumble. “Don’t think you’re up to spending three days in bed with me?”
The look she sent him made his temperature climb. “The question ought to be, is the Hawk ready to spend three days in bed with me?”
No. Yes. Would he really last three days? Considering the heat they’d generated in less than ten minutes he was liable to self-combust long before their seventy-five hour deadline was met.
He adjusted the microphone on his headset. “That sounded like a challenge to me, folks. Did it to you? Come on down to the Furniture Gallery and place your bets.”
“I think you mean make your donations.”
“You use your terminology, I’ll stick to mine.”
“However you put it, the bottom line is we’re here raising money for the Salvation Army’s new homeless shelter,” she said. “Stop by and add your cash or check to our collection bin. And while you’re at it, add your get-well wishes to the giant card we’ve posted for Nick.”
“For those of you still lazing around in your beds, here’s a little rock and roll to get you going.”
As the music started, Erica ripped off her headset and leaned back against the pillows. “How’d I do?” she asked.
“You sound like a pro.” And she looked almost too tempting, half-reclining in the bed, her hair spread out on the pillow behind her. He swallowed hard and looked away, attempting to focus on the few Furniture Gallery employees who’d started to gather. “I still can’t believe Carl agreed to this. How can anybody spend three days in a bed?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe under the right circumstances. With the right person.”
There was a definite seductive purr in her voice. Was he the right person she wouldn’t mind in her bed?
“We get to take breaks,” she said. “I mean, you can get up and walk around.”
“Right. To go to the john. I guess I ought to be grateful for that.”
She stretched her arms over her head, a movement that brought her breasts into sharper focus against the flannel. “Well, I’m going to find a way to have a good time with this. I mean, how many people get paid to basically have fun in bed?”
There his mind went again, reading more into her words than she probably meant. He could certainly think of a few ways to have fun with her in bed…. He tried looking away again, but his gaze insisted on wandering back to her. She was unbuttoning her top now. “What are you doing?” he asked, alarmed.
“It’s a lot warmer in here than I thought.” She stripped off the shirt and tossed it aside, revealing a red tank top underneath.
Only when his vision blurred did he realize he’d stopped breathing. He turned his back to her. “Can we get some coffee over here? And some ice water.” If all else failed, he could dump the water in his lap.
“That was Maroon 5 with ‘This Love,’” she said, right on cue. “If you’re on your way into work this morning, stop by and say hi. The Hawk and I are broadcasting from Mattress Max’s Furniture Gallery at East Six and Wadsworth.”
“If you bring us a donation this morning, we’ve got free T-shirts and CDs to give away.” Adam checked his clipboard and saw that it was time for a plug for Mattress Max. “And while you’re here, try out Max’s own line of Therapedic bedding—the most comfortable mattress you’ll find anywhere.”
“This one certainly is comfortable.” Erica bounced up and down and grinned at him.
He couldn’t help but notice that the mattress wasn’t the only thing bouncing, and almost forgot his lines. The engineer hissed in his earphones, reminding him to avoid the broadcasting sin of dead air. He forced himself to focus on the clipboard. “Max is running a special right now. Buy a mattress during the K-Rock bed-in and he’ll throw in a frame and two Therapedic pillows absolutely free.”
“The pillows are definitely very comfy.” She smiled at him and beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. He’d have to talk to someone about getting a fan or something.
Was she deliberately flirting with him? Maybe she thought that was what was expected of her. Later, when they were off the air, he’d explain to her that she didn’t have to act that way with him. He wasn’t Naughty Nick. They would just do the show the way he always did, ask for donations and forget about all the flirting and sexy talk.
If only he could convince his body to do the same.
AT 9:00 THE MORNING show ended and Erica and Adam were off the air. Now their job was to talk to the people who stopped by to donate, take turns answering the phones for people who wanted to make pledges, and do the occasional live call-in throughout the day.
In between times they were free to take a break to eat or freshen up in the bathroom, though they weren’t supposed to get too far from the bed.
Erica watched as Adam signed autographs for a trio of smiling women. She didn’t really blame them for smiling. Dressed in rumpled pajamas, his hair tousled, he looked like a man who’d just rolled out of bed. And one who hadn’t spent his time there working or sleeping.
Flirting with him had come naturally. But then she’d decided to try turning up the heat a notch. Why not? There was no
