Hillbilly Rockstar (Blacktop Cowboys 6)

“Yes, but I didn’t think you’d look like this.” His admiring, borderline lustful gaze swept her body from head to toe and back up.

“Seriously? I get the slack-jawed response that Sandra Bullock got in Miss Congeniality after her makeover and there’s no one around to see it?”

“And that’s where the comparison ends, because there ain’t nothin’ congenial about you.”

She blushed but kept her stubborn chin lifted.

Feeling ornery, he didn’t let it go. “I find the section of blue hair . . . interesting. Why’d you do it?”

“I swear a blue streak and thought my new, improved look should reflect that.”

Devin laughed. “It worked. You look”—fucking fantastic—“incredible.”

Her silvery eyes turned a dark, stormy gray. “It’s a damn good thing you’re not attracted to me in the least, don’t you agree?”

Now he looked away. That’d been an ass**le thing to say. And the fact she’d overheard it? Now he knew why she’d given him the cold shoulder at the GSC offices. “Takes two to two-step, darlin’. You swore I’m not your type either.”

Her startled expression indicated she’d forgotten that.

“Now, we done with this who’s hot and who’s not sniping so I can show you the rest of the bus?”

“We’re done.”

“Come on.”

Liberty was properly awed by their luxury traveling coach. “I spent so many years riding in the back of transport trucks and in Humvees, I doubt I’ll get used to this. This place is way nicer than my apartment. It’s a little surreal.”

“For me too,” he confessed. “Even after a dozen years in this business, I keep expecting I’ll wake up and find it’s all been a dream.” Why had he told her something so personal? Now she probably thought he was even more of a pu**y.

Yeah, you hauling her luggage proved you’re one badass dude.

Three knocks sounded outside the door. “Just wanted to let you know we’re taking off.”

Liberty moved and offered her hand. “I’m Liberty, Devin’s personal assistant.”

“I’m Reg.” The rotund guy in his midfifties shook her hand with much enthusiasm. “Happy to meet you, ma’am. If either of you needs something, hit the intercom switch. It’ll turn on the light on my dashboard. Since I wear headphones, it’s best that you approach me that way and not through the beer window. Better not to scare the dickens out of me and I end up wrecking the bus.”

“Good point.”

Devin watched as Liberty put away her groceries—every bit of it labeled. “You don’t have to do that,” he said when she added a big L to the side of the milk. “I ain’t gonna steal your food.”

“Sorry. Habit left over from military life.”

“Why’d you bring your own food anyway?”

“Because when we’re out, I have to eat where and when you do. But because we’re in public, I’ll be so busy watching the perimeter, I forget to eat. I make sure to have decent food available for when I have uninterrupted time.” Then she pulled out her own one-cup-at-a-time coffeemaker.

Devin didn’t know why that annoyed him.

Yes, you do. That means she won’t be making coffee for you.

“Once you get settled, we need to go over a few things,” she said.

“I’m settled now. What’s on your mind?”

“This job is unlike a normal job where I work twelve hours and then I’m off shift for twelve hours. I won’t have a partner to relieve me. And it’d be unhealthy and unwise for me not to have any downtime. I certainly hope you don’t expect me to work twenty-four hours a day for the first three-month leg of the tour without a break.”

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “Don’t forget I’m used to bein’ alone on my bus, doin’ what I want, when I want, with no distractions and no one to answer to.”

“You’re most protected when we’re traveling, so I’ll take my downtime when we’re on the road. That’ll give you the quiet time you need to work. I’ll just hang out in my bunk or I’ll stay in the part of the bus that gives you the most privacy.”

Devin nodded. “That’ll actually work really well for me.”

Relief crossed her face. “Good. But as soon as the bus stops, I’m with you at all times. No exceptions unless I’m handing you off to an event security team.”

“Then what will you be doin’?”

“Limiting access to you.”

He snagged a Red Bull from the refrigerator and kept his temper in check. “Limiting access meaning . . . keeping groupies away from me? Because we already discussed my conditions on that.”

Liberty studied him. “And I said I didn’t give a f**k who you f**ked as long as they pass my safety parameters. Which are: None of the ladies can bring purses, handbags or backpacks into your ready room. No more than two women at a time in your ready room. I will be stationed outside the door the entire time you’re . . . entertaining your fans.”

Was she f**king serious? She’d be listening outside the goddamn door?

She shook her finger at him. “I’m not a pervert; nor will I get off hearing you getting off with your groupies. But this is a nonnegotiable point, Devin.”

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s practice havin’ separate downtime starting now. I’ll be in my room. See you in Salt Lake.”