Hillbilly Rockstar (18 page)

Finally someone in the back clapped.

“Here's another one of my favorites.” The MC practically pushed him off the stage. Then she nodded to the DJ and launched into “Emotions” by Mariah Carey.

The fifty feet to the booth felt like a walk of shame.

“Good thing I don't have aspirations for a musical career,” he said dryly.

Liberty was laughing so hard she had to hold her stomach. She slid out of the booth and whapped his biceps. “Stop it. I'm gonna pee my pants.”

“Find this amusing, do you?”

“Yes. My God. If they only knew.” She hooked her arm through his as
they cut out the side door. “Just think what a great sound bite that'll make for an interview.”

Devin stopped. He framed her face in his hands. “I'd never do that—use that story. I don't want to share a personal part of my life just for entertainment's sake. That's mine and yours.”

She stared at him with such a soft, sweet look that he was momentarily stunned. “Then I'm so glad we had tonight, Devin.”

“Me too, sweetheart. And thank you. For what you did at the hospital.”

“You're welcome. I'm just glad I got out of making crafts.”

He kissed her forehead. “One thing you're not getting out of? You promised to make my humiliation onstage worth my while. And I'm thinking a hand job in the car will take the edge off until we get to the bus.”

D
evin had her shirt off.

Again.

He'd talked her into wearing a noncompression bra.

Again.

That wicked, sensual mouth and those skillful hands were turning her mindless as he teased her to the begging point.

Again.

“Devin.”

“I'm getting there, sweetheart.” He dragged his razor-stubbled cheek over the lacy edge of her bra cup. Then his tongue snaked under the lace and the end almost reached her hard nipple. Almost. He did that twice more.

“Devin!”

The evil man chuckled and then sank his teeth into the top of her breast and sucked hard. Really hard. Hard enough to leave a mark.

“You could do that a few inches down,” she murmured huskily. “You can't miss the spot. It's sticking straight out.”

“Lord, woman. You've got no patience.”

“Says the man who fucked me on the bus stairs last night.”

“I don't remember those noises you were makin' sounding much like complaints.” His hands squeezed her ass cheeks. “I was insane to have you. In a goddamn fog of lust. Even after five weeks of you bein' in my bed, this need for you hasn't cooled.”

“Devin—”

“Let me finish. I saw you waitin' for me at the edge of the stage and I
just . . .” He exhaled across the damp love bites he'd placed on her chest. “I thought I was bein' all gentlemanly and shit waitin' until we reached the bus to strip you bare and bend you over.”

Liberty groaned. When it came to sex talk, the man didn't mince words.

“Pull down the bra cups so I can get at your nipples,” he rasped against her throat. “I want your pussy sopping wet when I fuck you.”

She watched the hunger flare his blue eyes to midnight as she lowered her bra straps, when someone started beating on the door.

Devin moved her off his lap and tossed her the baggy T-shirt she'd had on. “Whoever it is better have a damn good reason for interrupting us.”

Yanking the shirt over her head, she appreciated that Devin honored the personal and professional line with something as simple as letting her answer the door. At the bottom of the stair bay, she peered through the blind.

Odette said, “Liberty, I need to talk to Devin. It's important. Really important.”

She unlocked the door. Odette brushed past her, nearly knocking her over.

“Odette? What's goin' on?” Devin asked.

“Tay is sick. Like, really sick. She's been barfing since last night. Jase and Crash took her to the ER and it's just extreme morning sickness. They prescribed antinausea meds and she's resting, but she can't hardly talk after all that barfing, let alone sing.”

“Fuck.”

“I hate to say this, but the songs she plays keyboards in won't lose much, but, Dev, she's your main backup singer. A big chunk of your set is devoted to songs with three- and four-part harmony. We can't just say we'll work around it. Some of those songs are the ones fans come to hear. Especially ‘Chains and Trains.'”

“Fuck,” Devin said again. “What are our options?”

“We could initiate an audience sing-along, and people won't notice the lack of harmony coming from the stage.”

“Which will work for a few of the songs, but not half the damn set.” Devin stood and paced. “Jesus. I hate to say this, but I wish Jesse-Belle was
on this leg of the tour right now. Either she or one of her ten backup singers could fill in for a night.”

“I thought of that. Our opening act, Rider Ekman, doesn't have a woman singer in his band.”

“Can't you just announce at the start of the show that Tay's on bed rest and ask female audience members to fill in?” Liberty suggested. “The ladies who come to your concerts know all the words. Even if they screwed up, it'd be entertaining.”

Devin studied her. “Definitely a last resort.” He said, “Hang on,” and disappeared down the hall.

Liberty asked, “How is Tay?”

“Miserable. But Jase is being really sweet to her for a change and they're happy about the baby, so that's good.”

Devin returned with his guitar and parked his butt next to Odette. He strummed a few chords of “Baby Loves Me like Mama Does” and then pointed to Liberty with the guitar pick. “Jump in when we get to the chorus.”

Liberty's mouth fell open, but she couldn't have spoken to protest if her life depended on it.

Good thing Odette demanded, “Devin, what the hell do you think you're doing? She's your girlfriend, not a backup singer.”

He faced his songwriting partner. “Liberty sings.”

“Devin.”

“She sings so damn well that when I first heard her, I thought Tay had broken in to use my shower again.”

Odette aimed her skeptical look at Liberty. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” Devin answered for her. “And she's been with the tour for months. She knows the set list and all of the songs, don't you?”

“I guess, but—”

“We'll go through the song once so you can get a feel for the harmony sections. Then, the second time through, join in at the chorus. Ready?” he said to Odette.

She nodded.

Liberty's heart jackhammered. Besides her brief karaoke appearance, the only place she ever sang was in her car or in the shower.

Devin did his thing. Cranked out the tune perfectly, like he'd done hundreds of times; no fancy digital sound engineering, no additional instruments, just a man and his guitar. Odette chimed in with the higher harmony. Immediately, the missing harmony she'd heard at least once a night flowed into her head. She hummed along. By the second run-through, she closed her eyes and eased into the chorus, making sure her voice blended with the level of sound they created.

Silence stretched after Devin quit playing.

She didn't have the guts to open her eyes. Had she sucked?

“Uh, yeah. Nice little secret you've been keeping, Devin,” Odette cooed. “Any other mad skills your personal assistant's got that you want to share?”

“She's also really good with her m—”

“Omigod! Shut up! I was joking! Can't you see you've already embarrassed the poor girl?”

“Liberty. Baby, look at me.” Someone nudged her knee.

She peeled open her eyes and focused on Devin's face. His smiling face. His you-rocked-my-fucking-world smiling face.

“You nailed it.”

“Really?”

“Really. You up for running through the other songs?”

“Okay.” She rubbed her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans. “What's next?”

“‘Show Me,'” Odette said thoughtfully. “That's got a faster tempo.”

Devin started playing, and after the first run-through, she joined in. They did this until they had tackled every song on the set list. Twice.

“Looks like we've got our backup singer for tonight.”

Panic set in. “But I've never . . .” Been onstage, to say nothing of singing in front of thousands of people.

Then Devin was crouching in front of her, holding her face in his hands. “We'll get the band together and do a quick rehearsal of these pieces. That'll give you experience onstage and with the earpieces you'll need.”

“But—”

He kissed her. Not a sweet shut-up kiss. But one with enough fire that she started to get warm all over.

“Uh, excuse me? I'm still here and not into voyeurism,” Odette reminded them.

Liberty tried to break the kiss, but Devin held her in place. “Odette?” he said without looking away from Liberty.

“What?”

“Tell Crash to call a rehearsal. We'll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill; don't let the door hit me in the ass on the way outta here.”

Door. Liberty pushed to her feet. “I'll let you out.”

She was so distracted by their impromptu jam session—wait; how much of a dork was she to call it a
jam session
?—that after she scaled the stairs, she smacked into Devin. She glanced up. Damn. That heavy-lidded, impatient-to-get-her-naked vibe rolled over her like an electrical storm. Normally, she'd launch herself at him and fight for who got to be on top.

But right now . . .

“So I take it we're not picking up where we left off before we head into the arena?”

Arena. Why did that word make her gut clench and all the breath leave her lungs?

“Baby. Breathe.” Devin plucked her up—something she rarely allowed him to do—and settled them both in the recliner.

As much as she wanted to play it tough and cool, she buried her face in his neck, letting the clean scent of his skin center her.

After a bit, he said, “You don't have to do this.”

“But you need me to.”

“Just for this one night. That's it. It'd save a lot of headaches all around if you could embrace your inner rockstar and walk onto that stage. And if you weren't good enough to be on there? Sweetheart, as much as I like you, if you sucked ass, I wouldn't have asked you. I'm a hands-on perfectionist, if you hadn't noticed.”

“Gee, really? Somehow that escaped my notice in the past few months we've been together 24/7.”

“And she's a comedian.”

“I'll admit I'm nervous, okay? But two other things occurred to me that might throw a wrench into these plans anyway.”

Devin tilted her head back. “What? Security issues?”

“For one. I won't be thinking about that as I'm trying to remember words to songs, the part I'm singing, and having all those eyes focused on the stage.”

“Two guards will walk me to the stage and escort me to the room when I'm done. Will that work?”

“I guess.”

“I oughta point out that you cannot be armed onstage.”

“Not even a stun gun?”

He shook his head.

“Shoot. Now I'll really feel naked up there.”

Devin laughed. “What else?”

“I want to be kept fully in shadow. No one should see my face, either from the crowd or behind a camera lens. No introduction either.”

“Makes sense.” He traced the edge of her T-shirt collar. “You'll be on your own up there. You have to pay attention for the song cues because all my energy is focused on what I'm doin' in front of the crowd, not what's goin' on behind me. Understand?”

“Yes.” She squirmed out of his hold. “I'd better get dressed in something more appropriate for rehearsal.”

Before she reached her bunk, Devin spun her around and stalked her until her spine met the wall. “One other thing I should warn you about. After the first time you're onstage, there's a performance rush, so be prepared for it. I know I am.”

“Meaning what?”

His seductive lips moved over her jaw. “You'll see. Now, let's hit rehearsal.”

It took three tries for her to get used to the earpiece—it was very different from the military ones she'd used. But the rehearsal went better than she'd
expected. Still, she'd be a nervous ball of energy until the final house lights went dim and she was off the stage.

Three hours until showtime, she accompanied Devin to his meet and greet in the banquet hall.

Two hours to showtime, Devin caught her eye and smiled before the two security guards escorted him to his ready room.

Before she could make a break for the bus and figure out what items of black clothing to wear onstage, Odette hooked her arm through Liberty's.

“Alone at last.”

Why did something about her tone set off warning bells? “What's up?”

“You and me are having girl time. I've been told to make you presentable for stage.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who said that?”

Odette just slid her a sly smile. “It doesn't matter. What does matter is that you look the part of Devin McClain's backup singer, not Devin McClain's personal assistant. Although, with your funky but professional look, you do have great taste in business attire.”

She did? Huh.
Thank you, Harper
. “But it won't matter because I'll be in the shadows.”

“It's not about the crowd. You climb on that stage looking hot as fire, girlfriend, you'll
be
on fire. We need you confident to pull this off tonight. Lucky for you, I'm an expert in creating that
wow
factor.”

Liberty's gaze moved over Odette, from her shiny black hair casually tossed up in a messy bun to her flawless porcelain skin. Even her lounging clothes were color-coordinated. “No offense, Odette, but you're gorgeous, so your
wow
factor comes naturally.”

Odette stood on the tips of her four-inch heels. “You think this is my natural look? Oh, honey. It took me an hour to look like I didn't do a damn thing but roll out of my bunk. I'm as plain Jane as they come.”

“I doubt that,” Liberty muttered.

“I'll have to prove it, won't I? Let me grab my stage kit and I'll meet you on Devin's bus in ten minutes.”