All Smoke No Fire
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About this ebook
Dax Marshall is surprised when country music singer Marilou Roselle calls him out onto the stage to perform the song he hoped to sell her. But he’s downright shocked when she invites him to ride with her to New Orleans for a Mardi Gras performance. Dax makes the uncharacteristic choice to take time off from his job on the oil field and head south with her. But somewhere between South Dakota and Louisiana, he falls for the intelligent, motivated, sensual woman.
Marilou sees great potential in Dax, with his deep, seductive voice and strong, sexy body, but she knows he’ll always stay behind the scenes as a songwriter if she doesn’t push him toward a singing career. The attraction between them grows hotter than a Bourbon Street bar on Mardi Gras Day, and they give in to their fierce desire. But when Dax learns about Marilou’s past, he is confused and heartbroken. Can she prove to him that their feelings for each other are real, and it hasn’t been all smoke and no fire?
Randi Alexander
Randi Alexander writes romance novels in a fun variety of genres, like western, paranormal, menage, BDSM, motorcycle club, and even sweet. When she’s not writing a story or dreaming about her next book, Randi is biking trails along remote rivers or snorkeling the Gulf of Mexico. Forever an adventurous spirit with a romantic imagination, Randi is family-oriented and married to the best guy in the world. Give in to the allure of passion as Randi’s emotional love stories sweep you off your feet and leave you breathless. You’re guaranteed a story that’ll give you a happily ever after.
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All Smoke No Fire - Randi Alexander
All Smoke No Fire
All Cowboy Series, Book 3
by
Randi Alexander
ALL SMOKE NO FIRE
All Cowboy Series, Book 3
Original Printing 2015
Revised Version Copyright © 2021 Randi Alexander
*~*~*~*
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to place of purchase and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the web -without permission in writing from the author.
Chapter One
Dax Marshall stood backstage, leaning on his guitar case, watching Marilou Roselle sing and strum her acoustic guitar, accompanied by her band. Her sold-out show filled the theater at Wiley Pete’s Casino in Rapid City, South Dakota. Marilou was a rising star in the country music world and one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She'd left her long, black hair hanging straight as a ruler to the middle of her back. She smiled at the audience, and those amazing hazel eyes of hers that tipped up at the outer corners crinkled attractively.
He’d said a quick hello to her as she’d walked past him onto the stage, but their official meeting would happen after she finished the show. Months ago, he’d contacted her people to pitch a new song he’d written for her, but her agent had explained that Marilou was a little old-fashioned. She didn’t like to hear new songs through her headphones but preferred them live from the writer.
Live from the writer. Dax had never been this nervous in his life. He tightened his grip on the guitar case and took a couple deep breaths, wiping one hand down the thigh of his new jeans. Performing his song in front of an incredible musician like Marilou would be the highlight of his songwriting career. Not that he actually had a career. Yet. Tonight could be the big break he’d been working toward since he first penned a song at age fifteen. Eleven years of honing his craft, and he finally had a song that would get noticed, maybe all the way to Nashville.
Marilou ended the set with her newest song, then handed her guitar to a roadie as she blew a kiss and left the stage.
Dax stood back, leaving her and her entourage plenty of room.
The roar of the crowd coalesced into a chant, One. More. Song.
As she passed, her floral perfume made Dax take a long, slow breath. She stopped a few feet away from him, taking a drink from a water bottle before letting her makeup person touch up her face and lips. Her tight sky-blue T-shirt hugged her generous breasts, and her colorful, full skirt skimmed her curvy hips and reached to the tops of her red cowgirl boots.
Her gaze met his, shining even in this subdued light. She gave him a finger wave.
He nodded and gripped his guitar case for stability. She’s a nice person. He repeated the mantra, having been promised that this was true by half the people standing around backstage.
Marilou checked herself in a mirror, then walked toward the stage, but stopped right in front of Dax.
The stage lights shifted, and the shouting changed. Ma-ri-lou, Ma-ri-lou.
She leaned closer to him. Guess that’s me, huh?
With the two-inch heel on her cowgirl boots, she still stood a half a foot shorter than his six feet.
Yes, ma’am. I’m pretty sure it is.
Could he sound any dumber?
She laughed, holding out her right hand. You’re the songwriter, correct?
Yes, ma’am.
He took her hand, feeling a thrill race all the way up his arm.
Do you have a name?
She blinked, looking innocent.
Yes, ma’am.
He was definitely not firing on all cylinders right now. Dax Marshall.
All right, Dax. I’m excited to hear what you’ve got for me.
Yes…
He didn’t dare say ma’am
one more time, or she’d think he was part parrot. …Ms. Roselle.
She smirked as she walked back on stage to the shouts of thousands of fans. You really wanna hear another one?
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Dax ran his fingers through his dark hair then immediately straightened it again. He needed to look the part of a professional, not a wind-tousled roughneck.
The constant activity backstage surprised Dax, and between staring at Marilou and watching everything that kept the road crew busy, the two-hour concert had flown by.
Marilou played her two most popular songs, and everyone sang along, including Dax. She had a voice that could melt butter. Soft and rich, but she could hit the high notes, too. He’d never imagined that watching her perform from backstage would be so much more personal than sitting in the audience watching with his friends.
Can I get another mic stand out here?
She looked backstage, and the crew jumped into action. One with two mics, please. One down here….
She held her hand at the level of her guitar. And one up here.
Her hand lifted to about the top of her head. Thanks, guys.
Dax stood back as the road crew jumped into action, grabbing stands and testing mics.
She smiled at the audience. I like to get my money’s worth out of these roadies, you know what I mean?
The crowd clapped and whistled.
The spotlight narrowed to just her, camouflaging the three crew members dressed in black who rushed out onto the stage and set up the mics next to her while she sang a slow ballad.
After the song and the applause ended, she turned to look backstage where Dax stood. I’ve got a surprise for you.
She pointed in his direction then looked out at the audience. "We have a local boy, a songwriter, who I want to bring out on stage right now