Hillbilly Rockstar (Blacktop Cowboys 6)

“I need a favor. I just found out that I’m getting a security detail on this next leg of the tour. I’m not happy about it, so I’d prefer to choose my own babysitters. Is your brother, Garrett, still in the private security business in Denver?”

“Yes. But I have to say up front, his business has really taken off.”

“That’s good because I want the best. Trust me; the promotion company will definitely make it worth his while. I thought I’d call him in the morning, but I couldn’t remember the name of the company. Can you text me that and his phone number?”

“Sure. And, Devin, darlin’, you know I’m gonna ask if everything is all right.”

“Everything is fine. Just takin’ precautions. Better safe than sorry.”

“Good. I’ll send Garrett’s contact info. Take care, wild man.”

“Always do. I’m jealous as hell that you’ve got Fletch to take care of you.” He meant that. Part of him had always hoped he and Tanna could make a go of it, but after seeing her with his childhood friend Fletch, he knew they were perfect for each other.

Crash gestured to the phone after Devin had hung up. “Was that the hot, feisty barrel racer you used to pal around with?”

“Yeah. Her brother runs . . . Well, you heard the conversation.”

“I heard the lie. Look, I know you oversee every aspect of your career, but you’ve gotta realize that Rosenthal and Big Sky Promotions won’t waver in this edict. And if the security company ain’t up to snuff . . .”

“It will be.” God, he hoped so. “Come on. Let’s go in and check on JT.”

Chapter Two

Liberty Masterson had just finished her daily requirement of PT—thirty minutes of cardio, followed by thirty minutes of kickboxing and fifteen minutes of takedown drills. Right after she hit the showers, she’d check in at the onsite gun range.

This was the best job ever.

The only way it could be any better was if she got to blow shit up.

You used to do that in the army and it wasn’t all that fun, remember?

Yeah, but people were shooting back at her. This was different. She was paid very well as a member of GSC Security—no more living hand to mouth in the world’s sandboxes. She absentmindedly rubbed the jagged scar below her collarbone, the literal parting shot that had ended her military career.

She blotted the sweat from her face and scanned the empty training area. Most of the guys she worked with were on assignment. She missed the camaraderie of her coworkers and she hadn’t sparred with anyone in a week, so she was antsy.

Joe, the boss’s second lieutenant, poked his head in the door. “Liberty, got a minute? Garrett needs you to do something for him.”

“Do I have time to shower?”

“A quick one. Then meet me out front.”

“Be right there.” After rinsing off her body, she scraped her wet hair into a bun. Then she slipped on her uniform—black dress pants, gray blouse, black blazer and black boots. Lastly, she strapped on her gun.

Ready to rock and roll.

She took the stairs at a run and cut through the parking garage to the front of the building

A luxury motor coach idled at the curb, Devin McClain’s face and his name plastered down the entire length of the bus. She’d never been a big country music fan, but she recognized the cowboy singer. His rugged good looks and heart-stopping smile were even more impressive billboard sized.

Joe trotted over with a clipboard.

“What’s going on? You bring in live entertainment for the annual employee barbecue?”

“You wish. This is a potential client. He’s inside with Garrett right now, but the boss wants you to catalog all the possible security breaches for this bus. Then head up to the second-floor conference room and we’ll go from there.” He passed over the clipboard.

“Will do. Is the bus locked?”

Joe scowled. “No. The door wasn’t even completely latched when I got down here.”

“Anyone on board?”

“Nope. It’s all yours.”

She nodded and got to work.

Fifteen minutes later, Liberty entered the conference room. Joe pulled out a chair next to him, but the four guys on the opposite side of the table didn’t miss a beat in their conversation.

Devin McClain was stretched out in his chair, arms folded over his chest with obvious belligerence. He wore a ball cap pulled low so half his face was obscured.

The man in the three-piece suit next to Devin ended with “What we’re asking for is a minimum of two, and we want them 24/7.”

“No,” Devin said with an emphatic shake of his head. “That ain’t happening.”

Three-piece-suit man sighed. “That is not your decision to make anymore.”

“The hell it isn’t. This affects me the most, so it should be solely my decision.”

Garrett scrawled across his notebook. “How long is this ‘Heroes and Heartbreakers’ tour?”

“Four months,” the bearded man sitting on the other side of Devin said. “The shows take place at a mix of smaller venues, like county fairs and casinos, and at bigger event centers, like stadiums. This leg of the tour bounces all around the Southwest for three months. Then there’s a ten-day break before finishing the final three weeks of the tour on the West Coast.”

“We’ll need a copy of the full schedule,” Joe said. “So we can see the security setups at the performance sites.”