Love's Road Home (13 page)

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Authors: Lisa Lewis

BOOK: Love's Road Home
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But George waited until he had the attention of everybody in the backstage dressing area.

"I just got off the phone with Marty. Freestone is very impressed with what’s happened on tour so far. The shows have all sold out. More merchandise had to be ordered because we ran out in
Richmond
. The CD is getting serious radio play, and it’s moving up the charts quick."

"Yeah, George, that’s great news," Leo said.

The rest of Roadhouse nodded in agreement, backslaps and congratulatory comments flying among the men.

"But that’s not all. There’s more to it." George again waited for silence. "You’re being upgraded to a tour bus as of tonight. No more motor homes."

Tom thought of Beth. "What about the crew?"

The older man knew what was on his mind. Or rather, who. "Beth will be fine. She’ll be on a second bus with me and the other guys. Hotel rooms have been reserved for you for the remainder of the tour. They’ll be within walking distance or maybe a short drive away from the concert halls."

George waved and turned to leave. "No dawdling after the show tonight, boys. You’ve got packing to do."

Despite Tom needing to complete his preparations to go on stage, he hurried to catch up with George as the man crossed into the backstage hallway.

"George?"

The road manager turned, an inquisitive look on his face.

"Yes, Tom?"

"I need to talk to you. About Beth."

George’s eyes flicked past Tom’s shoulder. He turned to see his band mates unabashedly looking his way, listening in on his conversation.

Tom loved the guys like brothers, but he didn’t want any stories circulating about Beth that she herself didn’t tell in the first place.

He reached out and pulled the dressing room door firmly shut. "Sorry, fellows."

He turned to George once again, ignoring the "Oh, man!" and other sounds of frustration at his back.

"What’s up, Tom?"

He hesitated, unsure of what exactly
Bethany
had told her father about the police visit earlier that day. Or if she’d told him anything at all.

But fear for her safety was foremost in his mind, and he was willing to share her secret with the only family she had if it meant she’d be better protected.

"Did Beth tell you what happened earlier, during her break?"

George’s cheery disposition instantly disappeared. "I know the police were here, and that Eric Sharpe is running around free, possibly intending to hurt my daughter. I assume that’s what you’re referring to?"

"Yeah, that’s it exactly." Tom was happy Beth hadn’t kept the news from her father. He felt better knowing he had help in looking out for her. "I’m real glad to hear about the bus situation. Especially now. If Beth still had to stay with Hannah and Liz in their motor home alone, with no real protection, I’d go nuts. This change couldn’t have come at a better time."

"Tom, don’t worry so much. If that creep ever tries to come near Beth, he’ll have to get through me and the rest of the crew first. All the concert halls have top-notch security, and the hotels do, too."

"But to be on the safe side," George continued, "I’ll get a picture of Sharpe faxed to the scheduled venues, to put them on watch ahead of time. If he shows up, the cops will get ’
em
."

Understanding radiated from the man’s blue eyes. They were a shade darker than his daughter’s, but just as expressive. After a short hesitation, he went on in a softer tone.

"I know you care for my daughter. And I know she cares for you, too. I’ve seen how you two look at each other. Hell, anyone who’s been in the same room as you guys has seen it."

"But don’t let those feelings get in the way of the music. You won’t get this opportunity again. There are plenty of bands waiting to take Roadhouse’s place."

George placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder. Gave it a quick, firm shake. "Don’t get me wrong. I’d be damn glad to have you as my son-in-law. But I’ve been in this business longer than you’ve been alive. I don’t want to see you regret that you didn’t give this your best shot when you had the chance."

George’s gaze narrowed. His grip hardened.

"And if you’re not happy with yourself, there’s no way you could be making my little girl happy."

He gave Tom’s shoulder one final pat before removing his hand. "The tour is over in three weeks.
Bethany
will still be around when it’s over. Trust me."

"She’ll be safe, and she’ll be there for you. No matter how things go in your career, she’ll still be there."

And with that, George resumed his retreat to the stage area, leaving Tom to ponder the man’s prophetic remarks.


After her first "date" with Tom in
Macon
, Beth had deliberately stayed nearby to watch each Roadhouse performance. Technically she was off-duty during the shows, but she loved watching them. It didn’t matter that she had to get right back to work afterward, disassembling and packing up equipment.
She couldn’t not watch.

And it wasn’t just Tom that held her attention. The dynamics of the group, how they interacted with each other and with the audience, held her enthralled.

The length of the performance was twice that of the average band’s set. Not having an opening act gave more time for Roadhouse to showcase their talents. But since they’d only released one album, they had a limited number of original songs to play.

And no matter how popular those songs were, nobody wanted to hear them three times in the same night.

So Roadhouse interspersed their own songs with cover versions of hits from other bands. They put their distinctive spin on tunes from the Beatles to the Stones and Eagles, from Motown harmonies to
a cappella
ditties.

No genre of music was exempt from their brand of attention. And no matter what they played, they kept the audience, including Beth, enraptured.

It wasn’t just the songs they sang; it was their incredible energy. They frequently changed instruments, showing their versatilities not only in song styles but also in abilities.

Electric guitars gave way to acoustic ones. A drum set gave way to bongos. Electric keyboards gave way to a grand piano. The guys utilized solos to highlight their talents, regardless of which instrument they were playing at the time.

Even Liz and Hannah added to the melodies being played by occasionally banging and shaking tambourines.

Through it all, Beth could see how much fun everyone was having, how overwhelming the whole experience was. Especially during slow ballads, she could see the intense emotions on the guys’ faces.

And no matter how sad the lyrics of the song were, she knew the members of Roadhouse wouldn’t trade that moment, on that stage, for anything else in the world.

Her current viewpoint from near the speaker tower at stage right allowed her to see both the band and the first rows of the audience. The fans were swaying in their seats, singing and clapping along to the rocking beat of one of Roadhouse’s own country tunes.

As her gaze traveled over the excited crowd, something struck her as odd.

Beth’s eyes sought out and found what had seemed out of place—a younger, dark-haired woman sitting a few rows back. She was just sitting there, staring at the stage.

While everyone around her was enjoying the performance, smiling, laughing, moving with the music, this girl just sat still, seemingly immune to the activities around her.

Maybe she was deaf, although it would’ve been pretty stupid to spend money for a concert she couldn’t hear.

She could be blind, but she’d still be able to hear the music and react to it, which wasn’t happening.

And Beth could see the brunette’s head moving, following the movements of someone on stage. She shifted her own gaze.

It was Tom.

The fan was watching Tom as he crossed the stage, performing a rousing solo near the end of the song.

Yeah, the man could play.

The muscles in his forearms flexed and shifted as he put everything he had into the music. His grin was blinding.

As Beth’s focus narrowed on Tom, a final thought of the too-serious spectator ran through her mind.

Maybe the girl hadn’t cared much for that particular song …


She was thrilled.

It was much easier to follow a bright red bus on the highway than a string of motor homes. Especially since it was vacation season and it seemed like every other vehicle she passed was a camper of some sort.

She was definitely making a huge leap in her progress to make Tom Crowley hers forever.

She’d be able to secure a room at the same places Roadhouse stayed. No more hanging out in parking lots, trying to glimpse her man through chain-link fences. And no more standing around on street corners, giving the impression she was a prostitute on the lookout for a john. That was so far from the truth it was laughable. She was unequivocally a one-man woman.

It was about time that management appreciated how hard Tom and his friends were working. The band should’ve been treated to plush tour buses and fine hotels way before now.

She’d been afraid she was going to have to call in some favors to change things. She hadn’t wanted to exert any influence over Tom’s career—she knew he had the talent to succeed on his own—but she was willing to do whatever it took to help him.

Even if it meant exposing her feelings too soon by engaging in a power play with his production company.

Good thing it hadn’t come to that in the end.

She really wanted to surprise Tom gently, show her devotion to him in a tender way.

She didn’t have all the specifics planned out yet, but the general course of action was clear in her head.

And staying in the same hotels as her true love was going to make his seduction flow that much smoother.

Chapter Nine

Tom was feeling good.

Aside from the fact
Bethany
wasn’t in his sight, things were going well.

The tour bus he was currently riding in was a hell of a lot more comfortable than the band’s prior travel accommodations, and he really felt like Roadhouse was going someplace now. Other than
Reading
,
Pennsylvania
, that is.

He felt they were finally being recognized as more than a one-hit-wonder, fly-by-night band. He was proud.
And happy.

And the only thing that would make him happier at this moment would be if Beth were sitting beside him.
Safe.

Logically, he knew she couldn’t be any better protected than she was right now. She was ensconced in a moving vehicle with ten able-bodied men—including her father—keeping her company. There was no way Eric Sharpe could get to her.

So he had to admit to himself that the real reason he wanted Beth here was because he missed her.

Even though he had plenty of people he could converse with, he wanted to hear Beth’s voice.

Tom let his gaze roam around the bus, taking in Leo and Jack catching a few
ZZZs
in large reclining seats, and Dylan and Sam passing the time with a leisurely game of cards.

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