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A few moments later, the Austin Sentry Band played one of their hits, and the place went wild. It was packed with fans of all ages. Whenever they played here, Dirty Coyote reached its capacity. the Austin Sentry Band had real star power, and almost any single woman in the place would’ve given anything to have been in my shoes tonight, including me.
And what did I do with that opportunity?
I threw it away over the mere idea of a fucking hidden camera!
Was I nuts?
Had the whole Johnny porn thing so infiltrated my thoughts that I could no longer function?
I wanted to apologize, wanted to lure him back, and assure him that I wasn’t normally like this, but I could tell this sexy party we’d been about to engage in was unequivocally, and clearly forevermore over.
So much for having sex with the guy I’d been lusting over ever since I first heard his music, and so much for casual sex. I thought I could do this.
Apparently, I couldn’t, at least not yet.
I didn’t know if I could ever face him again or be part of the audience, or even listen to his music without feeling the humiliation. No way could I even think of being a nanny to his child now. I mean, he hadn’t said as much, but I doubted he expected me to show up at his house… at least that was my thinking as I slinked out of the place like a thief in the night, and raced for my car, wanting nothing more than the shelter of my impersonal motel room.
Liberty 2
Earlier that night…
“Just a beer tonight, Tammy,” Austin said to the Dolly Parton look-alike working this side of the long, wooden bar inside Dirty Coyote. She almost looked like an older version of… well… me. From all the nights that I’d been coming in here, I knew Tammy was one of the owners and the wife of Jimmy Jennings, also an owner. She’d been my confidant on many nights when I’d needed a shoulder to cry on. I had a feeling she played that card for a lot of folks in this town. “And a plain soda back, with a lime. Thanks, and please go ahead and thank anyone who wants to send me a shot, but I’m not drinking anything hard tonight. None of us are.”
I couldn’t help staring over at Austin as he leaned on the bar. His tall, angular body took up space and sucked out most of the oxygen around me. Not only was he perhaps the best-looking man I’d ever seen, but he smelled like pure sex, if that was even possible. I’d wanted him to notice me all night long, and now that he stood only a few inches away, I could barely think, let alone put a clear sentence together to try to speak to him.
He wore black well. From his cowboy hat to his boots, everything on him screamed country, even his scruffy chin, which only added to his gorgeous mystique. Of course, every time he moved or strummed his black guitar, the muscles on what had to be a totally ripped chest pressed against his shirt, causing me to daydream about how his hard body would feel pressing against mine.
The thought caused me to swoon right there on my barstool. I picked up my glass of red wine and took down at least a quarter of the glass to steady myself.
After all this time of trying to get close to him for other more business-like reasons and being totally unsuccessful, I could hardly believe he was standing next to me now, especially after the week and night I’d had.
After the shit show with my now ex-boyfriend, all I wanted now was to find a way to sign Austin’s band to the talent agency I worked for, so I could keep my job, get the hell out of this crazy town, and head on back to Nashville, my hometown.
I’d come to Sweet Whiskey a few months ago with a plan to sign the Austin Sentry Band, but I’d gotten sidetracked with Johnny. I’d met him in this very bar and instantly fell head-over-heels for him. I’d moved out of my motel and into his apartment about a week after we met and thought this was the real thing.
We all know how that turned out.
This was my opportunity to make good on my original quest. My one shot. My moment, and it had been handed to me by a compassionate universe who understood my pain. I hadn’t even tried to get close to him. Instead, I’d randomly taken a seat at the bar like I always did, to drown my sorrows and get some counseling from sweet Tammy when Mr. Hot Sex showed up.
Who knew?
Okay, yes, so I’d had a crush on Austin Sentry ever since a few of my college friends and I had seen them perform a few years ago at the Wildhorse Saloon on Second Avenue in Nashville. We were right up front, and I fell in love with the entire band. To clarify, there were three members to the Austin Sentry Band: Austin Sentry, Kasey West, a strawberry-blond hunk if there ever was one, and Boone Rivera, who had a smile that could make a girl like me wet with just one glance.
Back then, I’d hoped I might get to meet Austin since the venue was smaller than a concert hall. Unfortunately, that never happened. He was always surrounded by a wall of fans between sets. All the guys from his band were. Eventually, I gave up.
Back then, I’d thought I wanted to be a veterinarian, but when I developed a nasty allergy to dog fur, I decided to drive my car into a different lane, mainly over to promotion and communication. Once I had my degree in hand, I knew I could do just about anything with it.
I finally graduated this past June after a couple of years of getting my bearings and had been working part time in the business ever since. Unfortunately, I was still making next to nothing in wages, but I knew if I could land the Austin Sentry Band, which I’d come here to do, I’d move on over to easy street or at least make a hell of a lot more money, and I could move back home where I belonged.
So, there my future stood, no more than inches away from me, all by himself. No fangirls begging for his attention. Just he and I, bartender Tammy, and a couple of empty barstools.
Obviously, the hand of God had something to do with this chance meeting, and I would notscrewit up.
“Whatever you want, doll. I’m here to serve,” Tammy told him in that raspy deep voice of hers. She had to be in her mid-fifties or maybe a bit older. She wore a big Dolly-type white wig, large earrings that could anchor a small boat, a tight-fitting black spangly jumpsuit that hugged her generous round curves, and a smile any young man would be happy to get from a woman who obviously knew her way around a bedroom. “Anything wrong? You boys usually take a generous number of shots during the night. Your fans love to buy your drinks. It’s been like that ever since we launched the place.”
Dirty Coyote had only been open for less than a year, and they were already getting a reputation that rivaled some of the more notable country music dancehalls in Nashville, including Wildhorse Saloon.
Hot Sugar, a weekend fixture here at Dirty Coyote, a band that seemed to come out of nowhere, dominated the charts and the CMA nominations this year. The same thing was going on for the Austin Sentry Band, although, they’d been around for several more years than Hot Sugar and had already taken home their share of awards.
