Hillbilly Rockstar (Blacktop Cowboys 6)

“I suck. I know that, all right?” he said hotly. “Maybe I’m stayin’ away from them for their own good. What broke between us . . . Maybe it just can’t be fixed.”

“Whatever, man. You sure can’t fix it if you don’t ever bother to try.”

The same exact thing Liberty had said to him.

Which made him suspicious. “Were you and Liberty talkin’ about my private family stuff behind my back?”

“A few times. Mostly after you visited a kids’ hospital. It wrecks you. In the past I’d been the one to pick up the wreckage, and she gladly took on that burden.”

He had been a big damn burden to her. But she’d never been anything but supportive after those visits. Sweet. Caring. Or she let him wallow. Or she encouraged him to talk. She had the uncanny ability to know exactly what he needed.

“Despite the family situation that’s still weighing on you, in the last four months you’ve been happier than I’ve ever seen you. It’s like she gave you back a piece of yourself that’s been missing.”

“What piece?”

“Your heart.”

Crash wasn’t wrong, but he’d sound like a f**king pu**y if he said the reason he didn’t give out his heart was because the son of a bitch always got broken. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You’d be a damn fool to let her get away now that you finally found her. Gotta say, man, that’d drive me f**kin’ nuts, knowing where she is and not goin’ after her. Me’n my missus have been married thirty-five years. It sucks balls bein’ away from her. But we made a deal that I’d do only one tour a year. The other eight months I’m be underfoot, driving her ass insane. We found a solution that works for us.”

“That’s what I told her! We could figure out a way to make it work if she just trusted me.”

“Talk is cheap. Put your cards on the table so she can’t miss what you’re offering her.”

Devin let that sink in. He swiped the bottle from Crash and drank. “Did you see her leave tonight?”

“Yeah. She was crying so damn hard that she couldn’t even talk. I helped put her bags in the cab. Christ. She had four pieces of luggage. How the hell she’ll manage that with her injured arm is beyond me. Probably not beyond her though. That woman is a beast.”

“Where was she goin’?” Please say a hotel.

“Airport. Imagine she’s in the air by now.”

His throat burned, imagining Liberty alone, struggling with her baggage and her emotions. He returned the bottle without taking a drink. “Thanks for the advice.” He hopped down. “It’s easy to let the family stuff slide, because I have you and the rest of the crew as my family these days.”

“And you, more than anyone, know how to fix things when they start to go bad with all of us. Maybe it’s time you put that into practice with your own family.”

“Maybe.” He clapped Crash on the shoulder. “Later.”

“Where are you goin’?”

“To make a couple of calls.”

Liberty understood why they called it a red-eye flight. With few passengers on board, she just let her damn tears fall. There wasn’t anyone around to see them.

You did the right thing.

It’s painful now, but in time you’ll see it never could’ve worked.

You’re an idiot.

You’ll never ever find another man like him. He gets you. He loves you.

With the warring thoughts pinging in her brain, there was no way she could sleep.

“Ma’am? Would you like another drink?”

Liberty eyed the empty beer can. Might as well. It wasn’t like she was driving home from the airport.

And nobody will be anxiously waiting your arrival home. Get used to being alone again.

She bit back a sob.

Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself—you did this to yourself.

“Ma’am?” the flight attendant prompted.

“Sure.” She wiped her eyes. “I’ll have another beer. No. Make it two.”

“I’m sorry. I can only sell you one at a time.”

“Shame.”

The beer wasn’t as cold as she liked and it was plenty foamy. She set it aside.

She stared out the window into the inky blackness. Would she have a text message from him when she landed? Would he have tried to call her?

No. She’d left him. She’d made it clear they were done. He’d offered her the best of himself, trying to find common ground. What had she offered him besides the word no? She hadn’t even considered compromising.

Fuck.

She slammed the beer, grabbed her iPod and shoved in her earbuds. She’d drown out the unhelpful voices. She deliberately chose songs that wouldn’t remind her of Devin. No country. No Maroon 5. No Foo Fighters. No Wright Brothers. Incubus, Staind, Nickelback or Evanescence oughta do the trick.

Liberty jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder. She looked around, momentarily forgetting where she was. Somehow she had dozed off.

The flight attendant smiled. “Sorry. We’re about to land.”

“Thanks.”

After she’d cleared the security exit point, she tried to ignore the passengers being met by loved ones—even in the middle of the night. She saw their smiles, their tears, their hugs and kisses. Their joy should have no bearing on hers.

But it did. She’d never felt so alone.

Jesus. Don’t f**king cry.