Free Good Time Bad Boy by Sonya Clark

were rules.”
    He propped his guitar case against the back wall of the stage and began to examine the meager equipment. “Well, what can I say? I’m a rebel and I’ll never, ever be any good.” He looked up just long enough to flash that killer smile again. “Two sugars, one creamer.”
    She just got this job back, she wasn’t going to get fired from it twice in one week. So instead of telling him what he could go do with himself, she pointed at the coffee urn behind the waitress station. “Make it yourself.” She turned on her heel to head into the satellite dining room.
    Wade dropped handful of cables and rushed to get in front of her. “Hi.”
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    “My name’s Wade, and I’m a jackass.”
    “Got that right.” She fought the urge to smile.
    “Look, you and I got off on the wrong foot and I’m not helping matters. Let’s start over.”
    Daisy crossed her arms over her chest. “You get one shot.”
    “Tough room.” He mimicked her stance. “Okay, first of all, I’d like to apologize for how I behaved the other night. I had no business putting my hands on you like that and I’m sorry. It was inappropriate and it won’t happen again.”
    “So what was that just now when you put your hand on my shoulder?”
    “That was me being on. I can’t guarantee I’ll always be able to curb that.”
    Being on? What was that supposed to mean? “I don’t get it.”
    “I’m a performer. Being Wade Sheppard on stage is a performance. But the stage doesn’t always end at the footlights. I have to sing in here tonight and I’m trying to wrap my head around that, and I’m not doing a very good job.”
    Daisy considered this for a moment. “So the whole redneck, flirting and calling women darlin’, just generally acting like a pain in the ass, you’re saying that’s an act?”
    He rubbed his thumb across his mouth, drawing her attention to his lips. She snapped her gaze up to his eyes and found that was no less appealing. He said, “It’s more of a persona. I was shy when I started out. Putting on a little bluster helped me get through it.”
    Laughter bubbled out and Daisy threw her hands in the air. “Okay, whatever. Just keep your hands off my ass from now on.” She jerked a thumb at the coffee urn. “And make your own coffee.”
    No way did she believe a man with bedroom eyes and a heartbreaker smile like his could have ever been shy.
    Rocky Top was more of a restaurant and sports bar these days, so musical acts were rare. Once in a while a local singer or band played on the weekends. Some were good, some not so much. Daisy wasn’t much for country. Even so, she knew a good voice when she heard one. As she worked setting down chairs and placing silverware in the smaller dining room, she couldn’t see Wade preparing for tonight. The sound of him tapping on the microphone reached her loud and clear, though. He played something she didn’t recognize on his guitar. At first she ignored it, her mind on other things. Gradually the minor key, bluesy notes cut through her thoughts and she slowed to pay more attention.
    He played the same several bars over and over a few times before singing. By then Daisy had identified the song – Midnight Rider by the Allman Brothers. She ran out of silverware and had to get more from the kitchen, so she crossed the main dining room to retrieve another basket of utensils. All the while trying not to look at him and failing.
    Wade was not doing well. He was doing so badly, in fact, that she wondered if she’d missed the signs of him being drunk. He was missing notes, screwing up lyrics, and cussing a blue streak. No wonder this was what his career had come to.
    Ronisha leaned against the bar and watched the train wreck. “Honey, you can’t mangle George Strait like that in this bar. These old white people will kill you.”
    Daisy laughed.
    “I don’t rehearse well,” Wade insisted. “And I’m nervous.”
    “It’s not like it’s