Hillbilly Rockstar (Blacktop Cowboys 6)

“I was serious about you havin’ a beer with me once we’re locked down in the bus tonight and on the road.”

“We’ll see.”

“Woman, you don’t give an inch, do you?” He sighed softly and stood. “You’ll be at the show tonight?”

“Of course.”

He smiled, a genuine smile, not the practiced media smile he used with everyone else. “I’ll see you then. Right now, I’m feelin’ inspired to write.”

“I’ve heard good sex will do that.” Jesus, Liberty. Can’t you just keep your f**king mouth shut for once?

“Don’t believe everything you hear.” He walked into the room and shut the door behind him.

The second night’s performance was better than the first. Everyone was in high spirits. Devin had fulfilled his media and fan requirements the previous night. No groupies hung around backstage. Strangely enough, Devin sat in the arena and watched his stage set being torn down.

What was he doing? Making sure the roadies did teardown to his specifications? Dissecting his performance?

Liberty kept an eye on the brooding singer, watching as he tapped his fingers on his thigh, lost in some rhythm inside his head. She’d never spent time around artistic types. She wondered how people like Devin dealt with the constant pressure of life in the fishbowl.

When he stood and scaled the arena stairs, she intercepted him at the top of the aisle.

“I should’ve known you’d be close by.”

“I thought you’d be used to your lack of privacy by now.”

Devin shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t want to get used to it. That’s why I find myself in the stands after a performance.” He turned and looked at the stage. “Sometimes I look at all this and can’t believe it’s my life.”

Not what she’d expected from him.

He faced her again. “I’m ready to go to the bus.”

As they approached the motor coaches, Liberty noticed Reg sitting in a lawn chair beside the main door. Having a guard outside the bus indicated someone inside the bus was worth guarding. It wasn’t a security measure she’d asked for. So who had implemented it?

Reg stood when he saw Devin. “We ready?”

“Yeah. Did Check bring my guitar?”

“It’s inside.” Reg punched in the code and turned the key to open the door. “I need to hit the john, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Devin grabbed his guitar and disappeared into the back.

Only then did Reg say, “A couple of guys were hanging around tonight. Both in their midtwenties. Don’t know if they were together, but it concerned me enough I tried to take their pictures, but the damn things didn’t turn out. Too dark.”

“Did they say anything? Ask you whose bus it was?”

“Nope. They just paced about fifty feet away like they were waiting on someone.”

“Thanks for keeping an eye out, Reg. But from here on out, I’d rather you were in the driver’s seat or in the arena. You sitting out there during the performance is just inviting trouble.”

He nodded. “Will do, Miss Liberty.”

As soon as they were on the road, Liberty ditched her personal assistant clothing. She slipped on a pair of baggy athletic shorts and dragged on an old army T-shirt. Then she washed the gunk off her face, slathered lotion on her skin and returned to the kitchen to make herself a sandwich.

Strange to think her life on the road tonight wasn’t much different from her normal routine. She checked her phone for text messages and settled in to flip through her stack of Denver real estate magazines.

With the hundred-thousand-dollar bonus, she could jump up a price bracket in her house search. She’d focused on condos close to work rather than a place in suburbia, but the possibility of that money meant she could consider other options—like a funky loft in downtown Denver.

“House hunting?” Devin said behind her.

Liberty quickly slammed the magazine shut. “Give me a f**king heart attack. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Devin pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge. “I thought we agreed to have a beer.”

“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea. I’m still on duty.”

“Technically, you’re off the clock and on your own time since I’m safely ensconced on the bus.”

She studied him, seeing he’d changed into loungewear. His feet were bare. He looked relaxed. Like a normal man. Not a superstar who’d just rocked an arena with ten thousand screaming fans. “Fine. One beer.”

Devin grinned and passed over a Shock Top. He sat on the opposite end of the couch so their feet met in the middle of the cushion. “Why’d you say you were surprised to see me?”

“You snatched your guitar. I’ve already figured out that means you’ll be working.”

“I snapped a string on it tonight and I wanted to make sure Check had fixed it because I plan to use it tomorrow during the day.”

“How many guitars do you have?”

“On tour? Six acoustic. I use two a night. Jase, my lead guitarist, has more than a dozen with him.”

Silence fell between them.

Liberty sipped her beer and looked anywhere but at him or his stupidly sexy feet. God. Who had sexy feet? Devin McClain did. The man had sexy everything. She should’ve stayed in her damn bunk. Besides, she didn’t do casual let’s have a beer chitchat very well.