Hillbilly Rockstar

  “Huh. That’s my favorite part about being the oldest in my family—knocking heads together when my brothers need it, which is more often than you might think.” Paxton opened the closest bottle of Jack. “What put you and Liberty at odds tonight?”

  Grateful for the subject change, he said, “Her reaction to my bus bein’ shot up.”

  “Come on. Give me more than that.”

  It wasn’t as hard to tell Paxton about the frustrating situation as Devin had imagined.

  When he finished, Paxton said, “It’ll get harder to keep that line between personal and professional the harder you fall for her.”

  “Yeah. I know.” And it was already too fucking late. If he wasn’t so crazy about her, he wouldn’t give a shit about her feelings, or her job, or how it affected them.

  “So what are you gonna do?”

  “I oughta tie her to the goddamn bed until she listens to reason,” he muttered.

  Paxton raised his hands. “Dude, I don’t wanna know about your kinky sex shit.”

  Devin fought a smile. “If I thought kinky sex shit would work on her, I’d try it. But I’ll have to go with the old standby.”

  “Which is what?”

  “Avoiding her.”

  “Not cool, man.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m new to this relationship crap. At least if I’m avoiding her, I can buy some time to come up with a way to deal with this.”

  Paxton stretched his arm across the back of the booth.

  Devin’s gaze automatically moved to the sleeve of tats. “Every time I see you, Pax, you’ve got more ink.”

  “Chicks dig it.”

  “That’s the reason you do it?”

  Paxton shook his head. “I don’t get off on the pain either. Every one of these images means something. It chronicles my life. Even the shit I wanna forget. Maybe especially that.”

  Interesting philosophy. But that wasn’t a surprise. Paxton was one of the most complex men he’d ever met. Devin doubted anyone ever said that about him. He stood. “Thanks for listening to me bitch and whine. Too bad you don’t live in Nashville. We could do this all the time.”

  “All part of my job as your friend. And thanks, but I’ll stick to livin’ in Austin, where the real music scene is. But seriously, Dev, you need anything else, call me.”

  “I will.” He pointed to the remaining mini bottles of whiskey. “Keep ’em. See you at sound check.”

  In the lobby, Devin stopped in front of Crash.

  He glanced up from his cell phone. “Better?”

  “Some. You got one or two beds in your room?”

  “Two. Why?”

  “I need to figure some shit out. Can I stay with you?”

  “I guess.”

  They started toward the elevators.

  Crash swiped his key and pressed the button for the presidential level.

  “Gotta grab my stuff. What room are you in?”

  “Fifteen oh five. Don’t be too long. I’m dead on my feet, and once I’m out, I won’t hear you knock.”

  Devin nodded to the security guard. He inhaled a deep breath before he unlocked the door to his room and stepped inside.

  Liberty stood by the window. Pinkish orange rays of the sunrise teased the edges of the skyline beyond the glass, but her face remained in shadow even as she turned toward him.

  He hadn’t unpacked much, so it was easy jamming everything into his suitcase.

  As he zipped it up, she said, “Where are you going?”

  Not an accusatory tone. More sad. That caused him a pang of sadness too. Only a few hours ago they’d been a normal couple, out on a date, spending a romantic evening on the beach in the moonlight. “It’s best if I bunk in Crash’s room. I need some sleep so I ain’t a damn zombie onstage tonight.” He held up his hand. “Before you start in on your security concerns, I won’t leave the room on my own, won’t order room service, won’t do anything but sleep.”

  “And you can’t sleep here?”

  By the look on her face, he knew she was thinking of his comment that he slept better when she was next to him. “No, Liberty. I can’t.”

  “Do I get an explanation? Or clarification whether it’s me as your bodyguard that you’re upset with, or me as your lover?”

  “You turned away from me on both fronts. I tried to reason with you about how damn ridiculous you were bein’, blaming yourself for something that happened when we weren’t even there. But instead of seein’ it as a good sign that we were gone, you fixated on how it was some kind of cosmic punishment for you bein’ on a date with me. When we got to the room and I needed you to be my lover and not my bodyguard, you shut me out. Then, at your first opportunity, you snuck out.” His eyes searched her face, but the room was so dark he couldn’t see her eyes. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing because then she couldn’t see the fury in his either. “When I tracked you down, did you apologize for worrying me? No. You barked orders and accused me of accusing you of fucking around—which never even crossed my mind. You’re so . . . blind to the fact that I’m not the one who has the problem separating our professional relationship from our personal one. You are. So, yeah, I’m pissed off. I need a break from all of this. I’ll see you after the show tonight.” He slipped out the door.

  Crash didn’t ask any questions after he let Devin into his room.

  Devin stripped to his boxer briefs and crawled into bed, putting a pillow over his head to block the coming of daybreak.

  The show at the Pavilion went better than Devin had hoped. The Wright Brothers had primed the audience, so when Devin and his band took the stage, the energy from the crowd blew him away.

  It sucked he had to deal with mundane business shit after such an outstanding show; it tarnished the glow. His security escorted him to the main room, filled with his crew.

  “Now that the star is here, I can share the updates.” Crash gave a shrill whistle to get everyone’s attention. “Listen up, people, ’cause I’m only doin’ this once. Devin’s bus is in the repair shop. We have a show in Jacksonville tomorrow night. As soon as teardown is done, the crew will hit the road with the stage equipment since it’s a twelve-hour drive. After Jacksonville, we have a ten-day break.”

  “Thank God,” Leon said.

  “I think we all feel that way. The promotion company has chartered a plane to take the band from Houston to Jacksonville. Since most of you are goin’ home to Nashville, you’ve been booked on a one-way flight from Jacksonville the day after the gig. Rick will drive the band’s bus to Portland. Devin’s bus will be repaired here, and as soon as it’s done, Reg will drive it to Portland. Then you’ll all fly commercial from wherever you are to Portland. So get with our Big Sky Promotions rep as soon as possible on where you’ll be in ten days, as I know some of us have vacation plans. Any questions?”

  Odette raised her hand. “Did the cops find any suspects in the shooting?”

  “I haven’t heard anything. We’ve managed to keep this incident from the media, including fans’ social networks, by passing it off as a break-in attempt at the event center. So let’s drop it like it didn’t happen, people.”

  “Where are we staying tonight?” Gage asked.

  “Same hotel as last night. We’ve booked the entire presidential floor. Same rules apply tonight. No room service. No one upstairs who’s not in the band. You wanna eat or drink, go to the hotel restaurant or bar. We have a car service scheduled to pick us up at ten a.m. Anything legal you need off the bus, get it now. The cars will be here in half an hour to take everyone to the hotel.”

  Devin had tried to ignore Liberty, but his gaze kept shifting to her. She stayed on the opposite side of the room. She looked like the Liberty he’d met three months before—not worried about keeping up pretenses in public. She’d slicked her hair back in a ponytail and hadn’t applied makeup, which made the dark circles beneath her eyes more prominent. Even in her severely cut business suit, he had to wonder how he’d ever thought her unattractive. The wom
an’s presence pulled him in like a damn tractor beam.

  “All right. That’s it,” Crash said. “See you all at the hotel.”

  Liberty leaned in, whispering to Crash, and then she was the first one out the door.

  Odette sidled in front of Devin. “Way to kill our postshow buzz, huh?”

  “Yeah. And we rocked the motherfucking house tonight.”

  “I totally agree.” She twisted her fingers—a nervous habit that put him on edge.

  “Spit out whatever’s on your mind, little O.”

  “Think you and Liberty will be holed up in the back on the private plane tomorrow?”

  “Why?”

  More finger twisting. “Because I wanna join the mile-high club with Steve. And I wanted to ask before Tay and Jase did.”

  “Fine. Whatever. Don’t blame me if the plane doesn’t have a back room. Chartering one this late means we didn’t have much to choose from.”

  “Never hurts to be prepared,” she trilled. “What’s up with you and Liberty? Are you guys fighting? You two are practically conjoined, and I didn’t see you together at all today.”

  “With all the new changes to the schedule, she’s been busy doin’ personal assistant stuff,” he lied.

  “Oh.”

  He hated that one-syllable word. The only time a woman used that word in a good connotation was during sex when “Oh” was followed closely by “God.” It annoyed him to have to ask her, “Oh, what?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  His second most hated word from women.

  He watched Odette flounce off.

  Yeah, he wasn’t crazy about that flouncing thing that women did either.

  His security guys—he had three tonight—didn’t speak as they herded him out the back door into a waiting car.

  Devin let his head fall back and relived the low points of the day, not the high points of the concert like he should have been. Waking alone, groggy and cold and Crash hitting him with all the issues before he’d had a cup of coffee. By the time they’d hashed everything out with the promoters, he needed to leave for the arena. When Liberty walked into the banquet room tonight, that was the first time he’d seen her all day. Now that they’d both cooled down, they could talk.

  They pulled up to the back entrance of the building and the concierge led them to the service elevator. This stealth stuff was such a pain in the ass.

  By the time Devin reached his far-too-quiet suite, he was on edge. He poured himself a glass of water and wandered to the big window in the dining area, staring at the twinkling lights of Houston.

  Then he kicked off his boots and cut through the living area—complete with a fireplace—to the closed set of double doors at the end of the hallway. He knocked. “Liberty? Sweetheart, are you up?”

  Stupid. Like she’d answer if she was sleeping. He opened the door wide enough to stick his head inside. A lamp burned on the nightstand. The covers had been turned down and a small foil-wrapped piece of chocolate had been centered on the pillow.

  He didn’t see her suitcase. He searched the room just to make sure.

  His edgy feeling escalated. Her stuff wasn’t on the counter in the master bathroom. She wasn’t soaking in the gigantic Jacuzzi tub with her headphones on. She hadn’t barricaded herself in the second bedroom.

  Where the hell was she?

  He called Crash.

  “Yo, Dev. What’s up?”

  “Where’s Liberty?”

  “I imagine she’s sleepin’. Why?”

  “Why? Because she’s not sleepin’ in my bed. And isn’t her job as my damn bodyguard to be close enough to guard my body? Which means she’s supposed to be in my bed.”

  Crash sighed.

  Not good. “Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on.”

  “After last night’s incident and your . . . disagreement with her this morning, she requested her own room.”

  Devin froze.

  “I agree with her. You’re secure in this hotel, so you don’t need her to stay with you. She had another guard stationed on this floor.”

  “I don’t want another damn guard. I want her.”

  “Calm down.”

  The fuck he would.

  “You knew this wasn’t permanent. Before we left Denver, we discussed the possibility that she wouldn’t return for the last three weeks after the ten-day break.”

  Devin fought his panicked feeling “Has she said she’s not comin’ back on tour?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “We’re not on break yet.”

  Crash sighed again. “We will be on break tomorrow night. She’s traveling to Jacksonville with us. As soon as the show ends, she’s on a plane to Denver.”

  “Not fucking happening. What room is she in?”

  “Take it down a notch.”

  “Tell me what room she’s in.”

  Crash didn’t respond.

  “Tell me what room she’s in or I’ll go lookin’ for her myself. And I’ll do that by banging on every fucking door on this floor, Crash.”

  “She’s in fifteen fifteen.”

  She’d requested the room farthest away from his?

  “Dev, don’t do nothin’ stupid,” Crash warned.

  “No promises.” Devin swiped his keycard off the table and his spare nylon guitar strap out of his case before he stormed out. He waved guard number one aside, as well as guard number two.

  He beat on Liberty’s door. “Open up.”

  No response.

  “Open up or I’ll get the manager up here to unlock this door.”

  No response.

  “Liberty, I’m not fuckin’ around.”

  The door opened as far as the safety chain allowed. “What do you want?”

  “To talk like reasonable adults.”

  “Says the brattishly behaving man-child who’s beating on my door at eleven thirty at night, demanding an audience.”

  Man-child? “I’m not havin’ this conversation through the crack in the door. Let. Me. In.”

  The door shut. The chain rattled. As soon as she opened the door, he snagged her hand, quickly tying her wrists together with his guitar strap, and towed her out of the room.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Takin’ you back where you belong. In my goddamn room and in my goddamn bed.”

  “Let me go, you fucking psycho!”

  “Not a chance.”

  Liberty tried to jerk away from him, but he held fast.

  When the security guards started toward him, he said, “She’s fine. Me’n her are havin’ a private chat in my room.”

  When his bandmates started to open their doors to check out the action, Devin yelled, “Go back in your rooms. This doesn’t concern any of you, so butt the fuck out.”

  “You are such an ass,” she hissed.

  “Yep. And, sweetheart, I’m just getting started.” He unlocked the suite and didn’t break his stride until he’d brought her into his bedroom and kicked the door shut. He crowded her against the post on the four-poster bed. “Remember our deal?”

  Her eyes said she remembered, but her mouth remained closed.

  “Determined to show me that stubborn side, are you? Fine. I’ll remind you of our deal. In public, you’re in charge. In private, I am. So we’ll put aside the professional issues and talk about why you’re shutting me out and running away.”

  “I’m doing neither of those things.”

  “Requesting a separate room for tonight wasn’t shutting me out?”

  Her eyes shot daggers at him, and no doubt she’d be thumping him in the chest with her fists if she had use of her hands. “So it’s all right for you to sleep elsewhere, but it’s not okay for me to do the same? That’s utter bullshit, Devin. I spent last night and most of the morning in this suite pacing. Tonight I was fucking exhausted and I just wanted to sleep.”