Vanishing Dreams: Vanishing Dreams (Devil's Bend #2) (16 page)

Even with the shirt on, she still felt naked.

Sliding onto the stool at the small makeup table, Katie did what she
did best. She plastered her face with goop in order to make her look older.
Dwayne had wanted to exploit the fact that she looked so young, but even after
three years working at Diamonds and Lace, Katie had never given in to him. It
was bad enough flaunting her naked body to men she would never even talk to,
but she damn sure had no intention of supporting some sort of taboo teenage
fetish that they harbored.

A sharp knock sounded on her door, followed by, “You’re on in five.”

“Thanks,” Katie called out to whoever was kind enough to remind her
that her doomsday clock was still counting down.

As she stared back at the woman she no longer recognized, Katie sent up
a silent prayer, just like she did every single night.

Lord, please let me get through this night. Please forgive me for my
sin. And, just because, please know that I’m only doing this for Lexi.
Everything I do is for Lexi.

Dalton never would’ve pegged Cooper for the type of guy to go to a
strip club as a way to celebrate his last hoorah to bachelorhood. Yet here they
were, all five of them sitting at a table, beers in hand with naked women
flaunting themselves back and forth in front of them, hoping for one of them to
request their services.

The hypocrisy wasn’t lost on him.

Dalton was well aware of the fact that he’d condemned Katie for working
in a place like this, yet he had no qualms about coming in and enjoying all the
place had to offer.

It didn’t matter that the strip club that they were at … er, hold up.
Amend that. This was a
gentlemen’s club
as the sign out front boasted —
as if it really made a damn bit of difference what they called it. It was still
full of nearly naked women.

Regardless of the fancy-ass words in the name, Dalton had to give the
place a little credit. Diamonds and Lace
Gentlemen’s
Club was somewhat
classy, if one could actually use class as an accurate adjective when
describing a strip club. Truth was, he had definitely been in seedier joints
than this one back in his younger days. He just wasn’t one to frequent these
sorts of establishments anymore, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he
was past that stage of his life.

He still had a healthy appreciation for naked women, beer, and hanging
with the boys. But when it came to his women these days, he just preferred them
to be in his bed, not flaunting their assets for a bunch of horny cowboys
drinking cheap beer while losing the last of their common sense.

That and there just wasn’t enough time in the day, to be honest.

Then again, for the last few months, the women he’d busied himself with
were one-nighters at best. And even that had been infrequent. It was hard to be
with a woman when he closed his eyes and the only person he saw was the one
woman he couldn’t have.

But Dalton had vowed not to think about Katie tonight.

Despite his rule to focus on his surroundings, it still didn’t make
their outing any easier to wrap his mind around. A strip club? Cooper?

Nope. If he weren’t seeing it with his own two eyes, he never would’ve
believed it.

Even though Diamonds and Lace served up a damn good steak, Dalton still
didn’t understand how they’d ended up there in the first place. Since he wasn’t
much for questioning his friend’s motives, Dalton had just gone with the flow.

Granted, he’d gone a round or two in his head on whether this was
actually a good idea or not. After all, he had no idea where Katie worked, or
whether she was still stripping. And truth be told, he really didn’t want to
find out.

But nevertheless, here they were, and it was true, the venue Coop had
chosen to spend the last few hours of his wild and wicked single days did have
some kick-ass cuisine, which made up for everything else. Dalton would admit
that he was quite fond of a good steak, and to his surprise, he’d just finished
one off that had left him wanting more. Rather than look like a backwoods
redneck, he had opted not to rake the leftovers from Coop’s plate, although he’d
been damn tempted.

Truthfully, Dalton would’ve preferred to be hanging out at The Rusty
Nail, gnawing on some chicken wings, downing some shots, singing a little,
chatting it up with the locals — the same shit they did most nights when he was
in town.

Although, he had been avoiding that place for quite some time. When
Coop or Tessa questioned him, he gave them the answer he’d rehearsed over and
over again. He had too many other things to focus on. Like work.

Tipping his chair back on two legs, Dalton used the same motion to sip
his beer as he leisurely surveyed the room, looking beyond Eric, Adam and Jack
The place was nice; he’d give it that. He wasn’t much into the whole strip club
scene, but he wouldn’t deny an appreciation for this one with its friendly
girls, fantastic food, and elegant décor.

Then again, elegant might’ve been taking things a little too far. It
wasn’t like it was a palace. The walls were dark, the floor was dark, but the
lighting didn’t blast him in the face the way he was used to when he was on
stage, and the girls working the room were pretty. Since that was the gist of
the décor, yeah, maybe elegant was going a little overboard.

Dalton would blame it on the beer.

Not that he was paying much attention to the women. That wasn’t why he
was there tonight, and Coop knew that. He’d come along to help his buddy bid
farewell to singlehood, but only because he hadn’t wanted to throw Cooper to
the wolves without backup.

Right, keep telling yourself that.

Dalton downed half his beer in one gulp, purposely ignoring that damn
voice in his head that had been prominent over the last three or so months.

Tonight was about enjoying himself, not thinking about anything — or
anyone — else.

And he was enjoying himself.

At least that’s what he was forcing himself to believe.

He was actually a little (translated to a helluvalot) surprised that
Tessa had allowed Cooper out of the house in the first place. He’d damn near
fallen over when he’d found out this had been her idea, and when she’d
practically shoved Coop into Dalton’s truck a short while ago, his jaw had been
scraping the floor.

Honestly, Dalton had been expecting bingo for Coop’s bachelor party.

However, Tessa never ceased to amaze him. Dalton didn’t have any
question as to what his friend saw in her. She was smart, funny, pretty, maybe
a bit on the neurotic side at times. And on top of that, she was a little tame
for his taste, but to each his own and all that shit. Or at least he’d thought
she was, then she went and informed them that she’d booked a night at the club
for them.

Who were they to argue with a pretty woman?

Dinner, drinks, and a couple of lap dances later — no, she had
not
approved of that last part — and they were enjoying the hell out of themselves.

Granted, neither he nor Cooper had been on the receiving end of one of
those lap dances. He knew when to keep his shit in his pants, and with his name
and his face plastered all over God’s creation anytime he so much as fucking
sneezed without warning, Dalton knew better than to attract any unnecessary
attention.

He’d been in the paper more than he cared to be in the last few months.
Going headstrong into his music and gearing up for some of the farm concerts
they’d been focused on had sent quite a bit of attention his way.

It beat having his name in the paper for dating a fucking stripper.
Thank God, that shit had died down. He’d had to stop showing his face in
Devil’s Bend for a short time, but his disappearing act had worked like a
charm.

Didn’t mean he’d managed to get his mind off the only woman who had
succeeded in sparking anything in him and the only one capable of holding his
attention for longer than five minutes.

Katie Clarren.

The sweet little waitress at Tessa’s bar had captured his eye the
moment he’d stepped foot into The Rusty Nail back when Coop had summoned him to
the little backwoods town he’d landed in. The same place Cooper now called
home.

Not that he was thinking about her anymore.

Right.

It still pained him that he’d lost her long before he’d ever even had
her. But he wasn’t about to take the blame for that little fuck up. He hadn’t
been the one who had lied.

The moment his eyes had met Katie’s across that crowded bar, Dalton had
realized there was something incredibly hot about the petite dark-haired beauty
and her sexy little girl-next-door good looks. One of the things he had liked
best about Katie… She didn’t give a shit who he was, although he had recognized
a little giddy excitement in her pretty gray eyes, which he had to admit was a
boost to his ego.

Too bad she used that sweet innocence to take money from naïve cowboys
who thought they might just have a chance with her.

It wasn’t easy, but Dalton had managed to stop thinking about her for
at least a few hours every day. Mostly when he was asleep. But even then, she’d
occupy his dreams. When he was awake, she was frequently invading his thoughts.

Like now.

Fuck.

There was no doubt about it, Dalton still had a hard-on for the pretty
little waitress. So much so, he found his wandering eye had ceased to wander
too much in recent months even when he’d tried his damnedest to fill his waking
hours and sate the lust she’d inspired in him all those months ago. As it turned
out, other women just didn’t do it for him, but he’d had to learn that the hard
way, too.

Getting over her seemed to be an ever-increasing problem for him, one
he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle, but he was up for the challenge.

“How long do we have to stay here?” Coop leaned over as close as he
dared and grumbled near Dalton’s ear.

“Your ol’ lady will think you’re the world’s biggest pussy if you come
home before nine o’clock,” Dalton answered with a laugh, his chair landing back
on all four legs.

“Nine o’clock! Are you fucking serious? What time
is
it?”

“Seven thirty, bro.”

“Fuck.”

“Exactly,” Dalton chimed in as he watched as a new girl took center
stage, the previous one rotating to the secondary stage to the right.

Oh, fucking hell.

He would know that walk anywhere.

His eyes didn’t stray beyond the short little number with the long,
silky hair. He couldn’t see her face, but he didn’t need to. His vision wasn’t
obscured because he was sitting near the back, either. She had some sort of
fancy mask over her face, apparently part of her costume. Damn. Despite the
fact that he could only see her from the neck down, that woman captured his
attention like no one else. Even knowing what she was up there doing, Dalton
had to admit that she was kind of hot. Okay, no.
Kind of
wasn’t the
right word. She was fucking hot. How was that?

Goddammit, this was not supposed to be happening tonight. What were the
fucking odds that they would stumble into the same fucking strip club where
Katie worked? Even without seeing her face, he knew it was her. He fucking knew
it, and he wanted nothing more than to charge up on that stage and whisk her
away from all of this.

Dalton glanced down at his beer, realizing it was empty. Third one and
he was ready for another, especially if he was expected to sit there and act
like a monk while Cooper passed the minutes before he could get home and engage
in some premarital sex while Dalton had a date with his fucking hand. The only
thing he was grateful for was that he didn’t have to sleep in Cooper’s guest room
anymore. Those two damn sure didn’t have a lot of consideration for their
houseguest — at least not once they were in their bedroom. Even the night
Dalton had pounded on the wall, answering the call of what he assumed was their
headboard, he had been met with a growling Cooper, who’d told him he was more
than welcome to go sleep in the barn.

Yeah, no thanks, buddy.

At the time, the new stable and the new barn hadn’t been built yet, and
his house had just been a bunch of lines on a sheet of paper. These days,
having a bed to sleep in while he was slipping through town whenever possible
was the only thing he cared about, which was why he hadn’t given his house much
attention.

When he wasn’t in Devil’s Bend, which had been quite a bit these last
few months, he was burning a hot trail from state to state focusing on his
tour. That had been the only way he could keep his mind off things he knew were
better left alone.

Although Cooper pretended not to notice all the flesh shimmying and
shaking around him, there was no doubt the guy was going to need to burn off a
little steam when he got home.

Too bad Dalton wasn’t going to have that option.

Nodding at the waitress when she asked if he wanted another beer,
Dalton gave the room another once-over. The girl on center stage, the one he
was pretty damned sure was Katie, caught his eye again as she slowly unhooked
that teeny tiny thing she called a bra and allowed it to slide seductively down
her arms until it fell to the floor. He gripped the empty beer bottle so hard
he was surprised the damn thing didn’t shatter. Even from where he sat, he
could see there wasn’t any silicone injected there. Nope, her pert yet plump
breasts were au naturel, and he recalled every single fucking time he’d held
them in his hands.

Not only did she have an incredible body, all trim and curvy, there was
something about the way she moved. Almost as though she was making love to
herself as she swayed to the music, using that pole every now and again for
effect. The cowboys in the front row were definitely enjoying themselves. Too
bad that damned mask obstructed his view, because he was actually quite
interested in seeing all of her.

Glutton for punishment — that’s what he was.

He was mesmerized by her long, dark, shiny hair as it caressed the
gentle curves of her ass when she dipped down, glided seamlessly over her
gleaming tan skin as she slowly stood back up, offering the cowboys in the
front row a perfect view of her bare ass. If it hadn’t been for the barely
there turquoise thong separating her ass cheeks, they would’ve gotten a lot
more than just that. Her skin was coated with what looked like some sort of
body glitter, and the lights did crazy things as she spun around that pole like
a woman who’d been trained in the fine art of seduction. He could almost
imagine wrapping his fist in all that hair again, holding her head back as he
thrust his tongue deep into her mouth.