Rhythm of the Road (Lost Kings MC 16)
“Don’t apologize. I’m thrilled for you.” Yeah, I wanted to soak up every last second with her too but this is a great opportunity and I’m not going to ruin it by being a sulky dick.
I hold out my hand. “Ready?”
She peers into the mirror and fluffs her hair. “I think so. Does this dress look okay? It’s vintage.” She reaches down to swish the skirt around. “My mom wore it in high school. Everything old is new again, right?”
“Sure, I guess.” I glance down at my plain T, leather cut, jeans, and boots. “Not sure you want to take fashion advice from me, though.”
She tips her head back and pats my chest. “I like your look. Casual and sexy.”
“Glad you think so.”
“If I ever get nominated for a CMA or an ACM, or something, I promise I won’t ask you to wear a tuxedo.”
Well, shit. Escorting Shelby to some high-profile event never occurred to me. The idea of mixing with that sort of crowd turns my stomach. My disgust must be written on my face, considering the way Shelby recoils.
“Never mind, that’s silly. I’m sure it’ll never happen anyway.” She scoffs. “No one’s nominating the bimbo from the reality show for any awards.”
“Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that.”
“Rooster, seriously, that’s how everyone sees me.” She balls her hands into fists. “A joke.”
“Shelby, I don’t think Dawson would be asking you to perform with him if he thought you were a joke.”
She snorts. “It’s probably to fuel rumors that we’re a couple or something stupid like that. He just broke up with another country artist so the gossips are all fanning the flames over who’ll be warming his bed next. I’ll send you the link for that blog post. You’ll see.”
I couldn’t give a fuck about Dawson’s love life. “I’m serious.” I grab her hand and force her to look at me. “Don’t let a stupid post written by some slob living in his mom’s basement do this to you. You’re damn talented. Even I can see it, and I know dick about any of this.”
“You’re biased.”
“I know what I see when I look out in your audience.” I press my hand to my chest. “I know what I feel in here when you get onstage and open your mouth.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, knock this shit off and let’s get you ready for your show.”
Her lips twitch. “So bossy.”
“I’m told it’s one of my more desirable qualities.”
She chuckles as I open the door. Normally, I’d have her go ahead of me, but I’m not sure what she’ll step into, so I block her with my arm while I check out the hallway. Crew members move around equipment. Most I recognize from the other night. Others have shirts indicating they work for the fairgrounds. To my right, Jigsaw and Dex are muscling their way through the crowd.
“Took you long enough,” I say when they reach us.
Shelby pokes my side. “Rude.”
I grin down at her. “That’s me being polite.”
Jigsaw slaps my arm. “Yo, Chaser’s daughter—”
“Don’t go there. For the love of fuck. Don’t.”
“What? She’s really nice.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what was on the tip of your tongue.”
Dex elbows Jigsaw in the ribs. “He behaved. Thought he was going to explode with the effort of keeping his mouth shut.”
Jiggy rubs the side of his head. “I think I blew a fuse or something.”
“Jesus.” I jerk my head to the side and step into the hallway, motioning for Shelby to get in the middle between us. “She’s going to be late.”
The three of us form a semi-circle around Shelby—a good thing since the line to get into the meet-and-greet room is long. No one really notices her until we’re already past them.
Once we’re in the room, Greg rushes over to us. “You’re all set up in here. No photos with guests tonight.” He gestures toward the table. “Just stay behind the table. Answer questions, smile, sign stuff.”
“You know I can’t say no to pictures,” Shelby protests. “That’ll break the kids’ hearts. They want to post that stuff online. Half the reason they come to these things is to take a picture with me.”
He turns and searches the area. “There’s no setup for it.”
I gesture to Jigsaw. “We’ll move the tables. She can come around to the side if someone wants a picture. Three of us will make sure no one gets out of line.”
Greg takes a long, deep breath, clearly not in favor of my plan. Not that I really give a fuck. “Please keep to the background.”
“Last thing I want is to make a scene, Greg. Trust me.” Z will kick my ass up and down the thruway if I bring unwanted attention to the club. Especially with Priest breathing down his neck.
I’m still not letting anyone mess with Shelby, though.Chapter Twenty-SevenShelby
Tonight, there were no incidents while meeting the fans, and my set went off without a hitch. I’m almost starting to believe I’m an actual professional.