Hillbilly Rockstar (Blacktop Cowboys 6)

He smiled. “Excellent choice. A favorite of mine too.”

That surprised her. “Really? But I thought . . .”

“That I’d only listen to country dreck?” he teased.

“Yeah.”

“Nope. I love all kinds of music. I have great taste. I listen to stuff that’d surprise even you.”

“Such as?” she challenged.

“You’re demanding proof that I have good taste in music?”

Liberty snorted. “Dude. Everyone thinks they have great taste in music and they want to prove to everyone else just how cool they are. That’s why you see guys in their fifties driving around with their windows rolled down, cranking out AC/DC, Skynyrd, the Eagles or Springsteen. The ladies from the eighties are just as bad, zipping around in minivans blasting Bon Jovi, Journey, Def Leppard, Whitesnake and U2. And don’t get me started on the rap booming from teenagers’ windows, which is only marginally less annoying than some forty-year-old white guy trying to look hip by listening to Kanye West or Jay-Z at ten billion decibels.”

Devin laughed so hard she worried he’d fall off the log. Finally, he stopped laughing, but he couldn’t quit smiling. “God, woman, you crack my ass up. But you’re exactly right.” He strummed a couple of dissonant chords. “But you didn’t weigh in on those folks who listen to country dreck.”

“I’m sorry I called it that. I’ll admit I have a new appreciation for country. And I find the fans way more diverse than in other styles of pop music. I mean, at your concerts I see grandparents, young kids, teenagers and twentysomething guys and their friends. Which tells me the music speaks to a larger segment of the general population.”

“Country music doesn’t try to be offensive or controversial.” He frowned. “My recent brush with controversy was totally unintentional.”

So far, Devin hadn’t played the song in question in concert. Which was a shame because it was a great song.

“Sometimes that lack of passion makes it generic. That’s what makes it so gratifying when something I write stands out. I don’t mean a song that hits the top of the charts, but one that resonates with listeners. I’ll never forget the first time I was onstage and the audience knew every word to my song and were singing along so loudly I couldn’t hear anything in my earpiece. It was unlike anything I could’ve ever imagined.”

She knew when he feared he’d revealed too much, and he was about to say something that’d make light of how he’d opened up to her. So she beat him to the punch. “After almost a month on the road with you, I know all the words to all your songs.”

He pointed at her. “Now, I’m gonna look backstage during a performance to see if you’re tellin’ me the truth or just stroking my ego. And since you tossed down the challenge, how about if we swap iPods tomorrow before we work out?”

“Deal. But if a Christina Aguilera song comes on, I might accidentally crush your iPod beneath my foot on the treadmill.”

He laughed. “Harsh. Have you ever really listened to the words of ‘Beautiful’? There’s a pretty powerful message in that song about true beauty beyond outward appearances. Listen to it with an open mind.”

Again, she picked up on the underlying message in his words, and it caused her pulse to race.

During their exchange, Devin hadn’t looked away from her. The man was stunning in the campfire’s glow. Her fingers itched to trace every contour of his rugged face. See if she couldn’t smooth away some of the shadows.

“Are you playing another song? Or the two of you gonna sit here makin’ moon eyes at each other all damn night?” Sarge complained.

That broke the moment.

Liberty looked around. How long had everyone been watching them?

What does it matter? Everyone assumes you’re in Devin’s bed every night anyway.

Devin cleared his throat. “I’ve got a few more songs in me before the campfire smoke starts f**kin’ with my voice.”

Before Liberty could suggest they call it a night, he strummed the opening chords to “Learn to Fly.” And he kept her transfixed until the very last note.

Then his head came up. Their eyes met, and once again it was as if everything around them faded into the background.

Applause and wolf whistles erupted. He mouthed, “Thank you,” and gave her a sweet smile she’d never seen before.

Before she did something fan girly like throw herself at him, Crash’s booming voice cut through the noise.

“Dev. We gotta add that cover tune to the set list. Your fans will go nuts for an acoustic version of that.”

Devin shook his head. “Not everything needs to be exploited.”

“But—”

“I said no.” He looked at Boomer. “You had a request earlier. What was it?”

“‘Friends in Low Places.’”

“I resemble that one. At least tonight.”

Boos rang out.

By the time he reached the chorus, it’d turned into a sing-along. The next tune was also a drinking song that everyone chimed in on. Liberty hated to call a halt to the fun, but she could tell the smoke was really bothering him.

As soon as she stood, she felt all eyes on her. “Go ahead and boo me, but I’m taking Devin to the bus.”

No one booed, but several people protested.

Then Devin was on his feet. “Cut her some slack. She’s only doin’ her job.”