Hillbilly Rockstar (30 page)

She smiled and kissed his chin. “I'm glad you called her.”

He was too. But he didn't tell her that if she hadn't nagged him, he wouldn't have done it. Seeing the love and bond between Liberty and Harper had given him a pang of regret he didn't have that kind of connection with Renee. He wasn't sure if Renee was open to making a change to how they dealt with each other, but for the first time in a long time, he was willing to try.

“You really planned on coming to the cabin by yourself?”

“Probably sounds strange that I vacation alone.”

“It sounds lonely.”

He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “It used to be. But I almost don't know what lonely feels like anymore.”

When she remained quiet, he wondered if she'd heard him. Then she seemed to sink more deeply into him and murmured, “Me neither.”

Mother Nature wowed them for the next hour, until even a blanket couldn't keep the cold from seeping into their bones.

After docking the boat, they hustled to the Jeep, their mood somber, as if they'd both realized their time away from the real world would end in a few hours.

Once they were back inside the cabin, Liberty took the lead in the bedroom. Given her public role in his life, she understood and accepted Devin's need to call the shots when her gun came off and they were alone.

So he loved these moments when she surprised him. Overwhelmed him. She undressed him slowly, taking her time to warm his chilled skin with hot kisses and the sensuous glide of her body against his. Her heated words of praise about how much she loved touching him fired him up as much as the sensation of her wet mouth sucking his cock.

She held him on the ragged edge. Dragging her hair across his
sensitized skin. Playing with his nipples. Tracing the checkered pattern of his abs with her tongue. Nipping his neck. Twisting her fingers in his hair as she kissed him with the sweetness he craved and the passion he couldn't live without.

Devin was nearly begging by the time she slipped his aching cock inside her slick center. And he nearly went comatose after she sent him soaring into bliss.

They remained entwined in the aftermath, stealing kisses and extending tender touches, the type of touches that always led to more. But exhaustion set in.

Liberty double-checked the alarm on her phone before she bestowed one last drugging kiss on him. “Morning is gonna come awful early.”

“You can sleep in the car.” He kissed the sweet spot below her ear. “I'll drive the first leg tomorrow.”

“Not a chance you're driving my car.”

A
fter taking a private plane to Jacksonville, Liberty could see why celebrities traveled that way. In Denver, they were the last two passengers to board the first-class section of their commercial flight. It helped Devin keep a low profile not to have an entire planeful of people filing past him. But it seemed no matter where they went, that aura of “I'm somebody famous” clung to him, even when he tried to disguise it.

Because face it—Devin McClain is a head-turning man. He'd get attention even if he weren't a singing sensation.

“You okay?”

She looked at him. “Yeah. Why?”

“You seem tense.” Devin took her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Which is a cryin' shame. I tried my damndest to relax you last night.”

“You did.” She'd been reluctant to bring Devin to her apartment, especially after staying at his not so rustic Montana cabin. But he'd just slipped into her space like he'd always belonged there. They'd ordered in from her favorite Thai place. They'd snuggled up on the couch and watched a few episodes of season three of
Sons of Anarchy
—a show she'd gotten him addicted to on the road. Their evening wasn't much different from the nights they spent on his bus. She even did two loads of laundry, so the feeling was very domestic. Which Devin didn't seem to mind.

But when they'd gone to bed, Devin became the sweet, soulful lover.
Touching her all over. Kissing her all over and asking for the same type of slow foreplay from her. He didn't show her his aggressive side, or his kinky side, or his playful side. He revealed his loving side and expected nothing
less from her. Because even though neither of them had said it, there was love between them. Whether it was long-lasting love, or a bittersweet fling, she didn't know. Apparently, neither did he. So it was easier not to put a name on what had grown between them. During their time at the cabin, they hadn't mentioned what would happen when the tour ended.

“Baby, what's wrong?”

Liberty leaned across the armrest and kissed him. She rarely showed public affection, and she had the urge to prolong the connection they'd cemented in the last week. The kiss turned into a mini make-out session—not the best way to avoid drawing attention to themselves. But there was no maybe about the fact she needed the familiarity of their intimacy as reassurance as they rejoined the real world. His world.

His hand cupped the side of her face and he drew her closer, following her lead until she ended the kiss. Devin pressed his forehead to hers. “Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?”

“Just because. I don't think I've ever told you how much I like kissing you.”

He smiled. “You've told me in other ways how much you like me kissin' certain parts of you.” When she didn't respond, he said, “Liberty?”

“Sorry. It's selfish, but I don't want to share you. I like the way it's been between us during this break. It's been . . . normal.”

“I liked it too, but that's not my life. It's not your life either.” He kissed her temple. “It's remembering those private, normal moments with you that will get me through the next few weeks.”

“Fair enough.”

“Now, stop them gears from spinning and get a little shut-eye. Gonna be a long-ass day once we hit the ground in Portland, and we didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night.”

“No way am I sleeping. I never get to fly first class. I'm loading up on free snacks when the flight attendant brings the snack tray by.”

The flight was uneventful except for the woman who'd wandered up
from coach and recognized Devin. When Liberty returned from using the bathroom, she found the woman in her seat, practically sitting on Devin's
lap. Rather than toss the chick on her ass, Liberty sicced the flight attendant on her.

They made it through the airport without incident. But Devin was nearly mobbed at baggage claim—evidently the overly friendly chick had blabbed to her fellow passengers about Devin McClain being aboard.

Devin dutifully signed autographs while the chauffeur stowed their luggage. Then—she didn't care if it was rude—she separated him from his fans and herded him to the Town Car.

When they were inside and leaving the airport, Liberty asked the driver, “How far to the event center?”

“Half an hour. I'm to drop you off at the buses, correct?”

“Correct.” She looked at Devin, but he was already on his phone. She checked her own messages. Made a few notes. Stared out the window when she realized Devin had started a phone interview with a local radio station and wouldn't be finished until they reached their destination.

Crash opened the car door as soon as they pulled up. “Hey, guys. How was your break?”

“Good. Yours?”

“Fantastic. Took the wife on a five-day cruise.”

Crash was married? How had she missed that? How could he stand to be away from his wife for so long?

Unless that's what the people in the industry were used to. Maybe it was no different from loved ones gearing up for deployment—except the people on tour weren't worried about getting shot at.

Except Devin is.

“Liberty?”

Her focus snapped back to Crash. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“Just that there's a surprise for Devin.” Crash whistled, and a guy using a cane came around the corner of the bus.

Devin said, “I'll be damned.”

“Who is that?”

“JT. My bus driver.”

“The one who . . . ?”
Was assaulted?

“That's him.”

JT shuffled over and shook Devin's hand. “Bet you thought you got rid of me, huh?”

“Nah. Good to see you, man. How're you feelin'?”

“Better than the last time you saw me.”

“That's good to hear. How long have you been here?”

“Flew in yesterday. Relieved that other dude. Told him I was back and we didn't need his services.”

“You said that to Reg?” Liberty asked.

JT's eyes slid to Liberty. After his head-to-toe once-over, she felt . . . slimed. “Who's this?”

When Crash opened his mouth, Liberty cut him off. She didn't know this JT guy, and she wasn't sure she wanted him in the security loop. “I'm Liberty. Mr. McClain's personal assistant.”

He snorted. “Since when do you need one of those, Devin?”

“Since Mr. McClain's promotion company recommended it and since Crash has other pressing duties as tour manager.”

“Outta commission for a little while and everything changes,” he grumbled.

“Speaking of . . . Since this isn't the same bus, and we are doing things differently, the promotion company would like me to go over the new safety protocols with you.”

JT glared at Crash. “I get fuckin' attacked on Devin's bus, been outta work three months and I come back to this bullshit?”

“JT—”

“I've been driving bus for you for three tours,” JT said to Devin. “I know fuckin' safety protocols. Who does this bi—”

“Choose your words carefully,” Devin warned, getting right in his face.

“Why? Are you and her . . . ?” JT laughed. “Now I get it.” He winked and nudged Devin. “Of course I'll listen to your personal assistant's suggestions.”

He made
personal assistant
sound like
whore
.

Neither Crash nor Devin stood up for her, which wasn't surprising, but
it was disappointing. It wasn't the first time she'd been subjected to men like JT. She'd learned to deal with them on the level they understood. JT
thought she was a groupie bimbo? Fine. That made her job easier. “When the band is rehearsing, you and I will go over everything. Shouldn't take more than an hour with the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

She nodded. “New policies. But being as you've been a bus driver for so many tours over the years, you should be used to the paperwork grind, right?”

He harrumphed.

Liberty addressed Crash. “Did the old bus have electronic log reporting?”

“As far as I know. Why?”

“It's imperative that JT knows how to run the new system because the promotion company will accept written logs for no more than a week. I suggest you get Reg back here to train him because this bus isn't going anywhere until we have a qualified driver.”

She could sense JT fuming. Good. Once she got Crash and Devin alone, she'd express her displeasure about Reg being pulled from duty. “See you later.” She picked up her suitcase before Devin offered to help her. Wouldn't want to look helpless.

Crash walked away with JT as Liberty moved to the bus door to enter the code. But the bus wasn't locked.

“Son of a bitch.” She ditched her suitcase, pushed open the door and scaled the stairs. When she reached her bunk, she crouched down and pulled out her padlock key. “If one fucking thing is missing I will have the goddamn cops here so fast . . .” She unlocked the drawer where she'd stowed her guns, her stomach going into free fall at seeing that someone had tried to jimmy the lock.

“Liberty, what the fuck—”

“Ssh. I'm counting.” All four guns there. Taser there. No bullets missing from the boxes. She heaved a sigh of relief. Then she grabbed her Kahr Arms PM45 and set it on the bed. She stood and faced off with Devin.

He looked at her and waited.

“Here's where I'm at. And maybe I should preface this by saying that as your personal security, not your . . . whatever we are outside of the hours
I'm paid to protect you. After the Houston incident, I agreed to go to Jacksonville only because Big Sky promised me that Reg—and only Reg—would stay with the bus in Houston during the repair stage and he'd be driving the bus across country to Portland. But I get here and discover that JT bulldozed his way into getting his old job back. As head of your security, I should've been consulted on that decision—not informed after the fact.

“To make matters even worse, I also get here to find that the goddamn door to the bus isn't even fucking locked! Who the fuck knows how long it sat here with the contents unprotected!” She closed her eyes and counted to ten before she opened them again. “If the firearms registered to me were to fall into the wrong hands, it's all on me. Not only am I in trouble with the federal government, but I would likely lose my job. Yes, I understand it was my choice to believe the promises Big Sky made me. If I would've had any suspicions at all that Reg would be replaced and your safety would be compromised on the first fucking day back on tour, I would've waited, packed up my guns in Houston and flown with them to Denver.”

When Devin opened his mouth—she held up her hand to keep him quiet.

“Now I have to deal with JT, who not only was extremely fucking lax on your previous tours when it came to general safety protocols for someone of your stature, but I had to listen to that smug motherfucker acting like I was just another one of your goddamn bubbleheaded groupies.”

“Are you done?” he said coolly.

“No. You should check to see if your guitars are still here. I know your stage clothes are on here too, so grab an outfit for tonight but everything else stays.”

Devin's eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because you—we—won't be staying on here tonight. And after you get your stuff, I'll have to pass you off to arena security so I can get this handled.”

Liberty's heart raced as she dialed Garrett. She explained the situation to the best of her knowledge. He promised to find a Portland company that
could perform a full bus security check as soon as possible. Garrett also
said he'd deal with Big Sky about why she hadn't been informed of the changes that had caused the security breaches.

When Devin stepped out of the master bedroom, his lips were in a flat line and his eyes were hard. “One of my guitars is missing. I hope like hell that Check came and got it off the bus. And for the record, I just wanted to say I didn't know JT was comin' back. So what happens now?”

“Garrett is tracking down a local security company that will go over every inch of this bus with a fine-tooth comb. I imagine the bus will be taken off site. It'll cost a lot for the expedited service, and it's a good thing you're playing Portland for two nights.”

“What do you mean they'll check the bus off site? Check for what?”

She met his gaze head-on. “Bombs. Bugs. Cameras. Poisonous critters. Poison in the food left on board. They'll look for it all. Inside, outside. And no, I'm not being paranoid. The chatter online about all the ways the protestors wanted to ‘teach you a lesson' included those types of sabotage. I'm just doing my job. There's a huge security breach here, Devin. Fucking enormous. I'll point out it was caused by the same guy who was involved in the last major security breach.”

“In which he almost got beat to fucking death,” Devin said sharply. “I'm not questioning you doin' your job, but I also need to point out something my agent mentioned to me. We cannot fire JT for bein' injured while workin' for me. Legally, I have to hold his job for him until he's medically cleared. So him showin' up ain't such a surprise, since he knew he could have his job back whenever he wanted.”

“Fuck.” She ran her thumb over the edge of her phone. “Big Sky will just have to pony up and pay two drivers, because I trust Reg.”

“Fine. Now can I get to rehearsal?”

“Let's go.”

The rest of the band was happy to see Devin, as if they'd been apart ten months instead of ten days. They kicked off rehearsal, and Liberty spent
half her time on the phone, the other half looking for the hired security to show up.

Devin wasn't happy with the sound and rehearsal went long. When he
approached her in the hallway, after conferring with his band, he had that angry glint in his eye.