Hillbilly Rockstar

Book 6: Blacktop Cowboys Novel

by Lorelei James

Genres: Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Western Romance

Synopsis

Country music star Devin McClain never imagined he'd attract crazed fans who would do anything to garner his attention. When veiled threats become real, he agrees to hire a discreet security detail. But Devin is shocked to find that the bodyguard is a hard-bodied woman and that he's attracted to the steely-eyed stunner.



Former soldier Liberty Masterson's return to civilian life is wrought with challenges until she lands a job with a prestigious security firm. But when she agrees to provide personal protection during a cross-country tour, she doesn't realize she has signed up to masquerade as the playboy star's girlfriend. However, Devin soon realizes that he wants to turn their charade of a romance into reality. Although Liberty surrenders to his every whim behind closed doors, she fears the sexy country star doesn't see the real her. Devin can't help but worry when the tour ends that there might not be enough between them to build something that won't fade away.



Contains mature themes.

Release date: August 5, 2014

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 400

Sample

Chapter One
 

After country music star Devin McClain finished a performance, he needed three things: a shower, a woman and a beer.

Not necessarily in that order.

He’d just handed the naked blonde a towel when someone started pounding on his hotel room door.

Devin snagged a complimentary robe and lifted an eyebrow at the curvy woman who hadn’t bothered to cover herself. “Please tell me that ain’t a jealous boyfriend lookin’ for you.”

“No,” she said in a breathy whisper.

He wandered to the door and peered through the peephole. What was his road manager, Crash Cavanaugh, doing here? Devin opened the door. “What’s goin’ on?”

Crash’s face was pasty white even beneath his beard. “Jesus, Devin.” The burly man barreled in and pulled Devin into a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so glad it wasn’t you. Sucks for JT, but damn, man . . .”

“What happened?”

“It’s . . .” His gaze flicked over to the woman peeking around the bathroom doorframe. “Hey, darlin’. You wanna shut the door so I can have a private word with my boss?”

“Sure.”

The door closed.

Now Devin was well past alarmed. “Crash, start talkin’.”

Crash stilled. Then his eyes met Devin’s. “Who knew you’d be in a hotel room tonight instead of on your tour bus?”

“You. I probably told Jase and Gage. I pretty much grabbed my duffel and . . .” What was the blonde’s name? “Gretchen and I skipped the party to head straight here.”

“Did you tell JT that he could crash on your bus tonight?”

“No. Why?”

“Looks like he decided to take a nap in your bed. Someone got onto the bus and beat the shit outta him with a baseball bat.”

Devin’s entire body seized up. “Are you fucking kiddin’ me?”

“No.”

“How is he?”

“Unconscious and in the ICU. He’d probably be dead if Check hadn’t dropped off your guitar after the show. He noticed the bus door was open—which it ain’t ever supposed to be. He went inside and saw your hat on the dresser, your boots on the floor and someone in the bed underneath the covers, blood everywhere. He thought . . .”

“It was me.”

Crash nodded. “He freaked out, called 911 and tracked me down. Big mess when the ambulance arrived because people were still hanging around after Dixon Davis’s concert ended. Only when the stretcher came out of the bus did we see that it was JT.” He ran his hand down his beard and sighed. “Scariest fifteen minutes of my life, man. Don’t know if there were any reporters around. But there were plenty of fans with cell phones. Rumors are gonna run rampant. You don’t need that.”

“I could give a damn about any of that when JT’s in the hospital.” Devin dropped onto the sofa. “Give me a minute to get my head on straight and then we’ll go to the hospital.”

“I don’t gotta tell you that this bullshit has escalated. Which means we’re making some changes effective immediately.”

“Now’s not the time—”

“It goddamn is the time,” Crash said hotly. “The threats are real, Devin. Whoever has been doin’ this the last eighteen months kicked it up a notch tonight.”

He said nothing because the guilt was choking him.

“You oughta know I called Scott Rosenthal.”

Devin’s head snapped up. “Why would you call my agent? He doesn’t need to worry about—”

“His high-profile client’s well-being and safety?” Crash interjected. “I ain’t about to argue the parameters of your agent’s job besides that it’s his right to know.” He threw his shoulders back. “Fire me if you want, but I’m done helping you hide this crap from everyone. Rosenthal is meeting us in Denver the day after tomorrow. And lemme tell you, it took some fast talking on my part to convince him not to pull you out of tomorrow night’s sold-out show in Denver.”

“Jesus. He doesn’t get to decide that.”

“According to him, yes, he does.”

Fuck.

“In the meantime, the cops want to talk to you.” He jerked his chin toward the bathroom. “Probably wanna talk to her too.”

Devin’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“To make sure this wasn’t some sort of publicity stunt.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Then why did they ask me if you were violent and might’ve gone on a rampage after finding JT in your room?”

“Come on. You can’t be serious.”

“You’re in the public eye. Neither of those scenarios is out of the realm of possibility to people who don’t know you.”

“I don’t know which is worse. That they’d think I’d beat the shit out of my bus driver to get my name mentioned in the news, or that I beat the shit out of my bus driver for daring to sleep in my bed. Christ. Do I need a damn alibi?”

“Don’t snap at the messenger,” Crash cautioned. “I’m just passing on what I heard. This is standard procedure.”

“Where are the cops?”

“Waiting for you downstairs.”

“Awesome.” Devin snagged clean clothes out of his suitcase.

Crash angled his chin toward the bathroom. “You want me to handle her?”

Too many times Devin had used Crash to deal with groupies who’d overstayed their welcome. “I’ll explain the situation.”

“Where’d you meet her?”

“In the media room. She’s the features reporter for the Kansas City newspaper.”

“Never a dull moment with you. I’ll tell the cops you’re on your way down.” He left the room.

Devin snapped the last button on his shirt before he rapped on the bathroom door. “Gretchen?”

The door flew open and the tiny blonde stormed past him. Clutching the towel above her ample cleavage, she spun around and glared at him. “Don’t bother to handle me; I heard everything.” She snatched up her clothes and mumbled angrily to herself as she jerked them on.

“This is not how I planned to end the evening.”

“Me either.” She shimmied her skirt up her thighs. “God. I know better than this.” After she pulled the sleeveless black shirt over her head, she glared at him. “I’ve worked very hard to maintain a professional reputation. And now I have to tell the police that I’ve been up here with you for the last hour?”

He kept his tone even. “It was your choice to come with me.”

She wobbled on one foot as she pulled her boot on. “I’m aware it’s my own fault for being blinded by your celebrity, by your devastating good looks, by your Western charm and by your voice . . .” She inhaled a deep breath. “That deep voice of yours is liquid sex . . . It sucked me in like a siren’s call.”

There wasn’t anything he could say at this point.

“I don’t suppose you’d tell them that we were up here finishing the interview from earlier?” she asked hopefully.

Devin shook his head. “I don’t lie. Especially not to cops. Especially not in a situation like this one, where someone has gotten hurt.”

Her eyes turned shrewd, and he realized she’d slipped into reporter mode. “There’s a story there. Do you have a stalker or something?”

He automatically hedged. “I’ve had a string of weird things happen.”

“Think it’s a pissed-off boyfriend or husband of some woman you had a fuck-and-run encounter with?” She smoothed her hair in the mirror above the dresser. “Because you do have quite the reputation.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you from dropping to your knees in front of me, did it?”

Devin probably deserved her fiery glare, but hey, she’d been a willing participant.

The interrogation with the cops didn’t take long—everything Devin had told them about his whereabouts was verified with the hotel manager and Gretchen. Every minute of his time after he walked offstage had been accounted for.

As soon as they were alone, Crash said, “Rosenthal and Carl Carlson are expecting us to meet with them and the security firm in Denver. There is no way in hell you’re getting out of it this time. Don’t get so pissy. Rosenthal is trying to protect your ass.”

“More like protecting his asset,” Devin muttered.

“If you’ve got a better idea, I’m sure he’d love to hear it.”

If Devin had to be saddled with security, he’d damn well choose it himself. No way would he allow a security detail to clog up his bus and hamper his creative process. He’d allow one person to travel with him. One. He’d agree to more security in the arenas and to and from events, but not in his personal space.

Although his bus could easily house the five members of his band, he insisted they have their own bus—a contract stipulation he’d had since he’d hit the big time and that wasn’t about to change now.

Few people understood that with all the time he spent on the road, his bus was his haven. The one place he didn’t have to be on—he didn’t have to be Devin McClain, country music star. He could just be Devin Hollister, a Wyoming ranch kid who’d made good.

“Uh-oh. I know that look,” Crash said as they turned the corner into the hospital’s parking lot.

“What look?”

“The one that says you’ve got something up your sleeve that ain’t no one gonna like.”

Devin scrolled through his contacts list. “Hang on. I gotta make a call before we go in.”

“Dev, it’s midnight.”

“She’s up. And it’s eleven in her time zone. She wouldn’t know what to do if I called her at a normal time.” He listened as the line rang five times.

“So didja finally get yourself thrown in jail and you need me to wire you bail money?” she drawled in that sexy twang.

He laughed. “Tex-Ass darlin’, I love that you’re so optimistic when it comes to me.”

“Hillbilly rockstar, I’ve been a party to your wild partyin’ ways, so it’s not such a huge leap to imagine you’ve gotten yourself ass deep in alligators. Hang on a sec,” Tanna said. “Stop bein’ so fucking smug, Doc. Yes, I know you won.”

He heard Fletch’s deep laughter in the background.

“What’s goin’ on, T?”

Tanna sighed. “I bet Fletch it was his cell phone ringing and not mine, since he’s on call this week. So thanks, buddy. You cost me an hour’s worth of sexual favors, which I’ve just learned will require him using lube and vibrators on me.”

“You ain’t complaining.”

“True. Fletch says hey and thanks. So why are you callin’ me?”

“I need a favor. I just found out that I’m getting a security detail on this next leg of the tour. I’m not happy about it, so I’d prefer to choose my own babysitters. Is your brother, Garrett, still in the private security business in Denver?”

“Yes. But I have to say up front, his business has really taken off.”

“That’s good because I want the best. Trust me; the promotion company will definitely make it worth his while. I thought I’d call him in the morning, but I couldn’t remember the name of the company. Can you text me that and his phone number?”

“Sure. And, Devin, darlin’, you know I’m gonna ask if everything is all right.”

“Everything is fine. Just takin’ precautions. Better safe than sorry.”

“Good. I’ll send Garrett’s contact info. Take care, wild man.”

“Always do. I’m jealous as hell that you’ve got Fletch to take care of you.” He meant that. Part of him had always hoped he and Tanna could make a go of it, but after seeing her with his childhood friend Fletch, he knew they were perfect for each other.

Crash gestured to the phone after Devin had hung up. “Was that the hot, feisty barrel racer you used to pal around with?”

“Yeah. Her brother runs . . . Well, you heard the conversation.”

“I heard the lie. Look, I know you oversee every aspect of your career, but you’ve gotta realize that Rosenthal and Big Sky Promotions won’t waver in this edict. And if the security company ain’t up to snuff . . .”

“It will be.” God, he hoped so. “Come on. Let’s go in and check on JT.”

Chapter Two
 

Liberty Masterson had just finished her daily requirement of PT—thirty minutes of cardio, followed by thirty minutes of kickboxing and fifteen minutes of takedown drills. Right after she hit the showers, she’d check in at the onsite gun range.

This was the best job ever.

The only way it could be any better was if she got to blow shit up.

You used to do that in the army and it wasn’t all that fun, remember?

Yeah, but people were shooting back at her. This was different. She was paid very well as a member of GSC Security—no more living hand to mouth in the world’s sandboxes. She absentmindedly rubbed the jagged scar below her collarbone, the literal parting shot that had ended her military career.

She blotted the sweat from her face and scanned the empty training area. Most of the guys she worked with were on assignment. She missed the camaraderie of her coworkers and she hadn’t sparred with anyone in a week, so she was antsy.

Joe, the boss’s second lieutenant, poked his head in the door. “Liberty, got a minute? Garrett needs you to do something for him.”

“Do I have time to shower?”

“A quick one. Then meet me out front.”

“Be right there.” After rinsing off her body, she scraped her wet hair into a bun. Then she slipped on her uniform—black dress pants, gray blouse, black blazer and black boots. Lastly, she strapped on her gun.

Ready to rock and roll.

She took the stairs at a run and cut through the parking garage to the front of the building

A luxury motor coach idled at the curb, Devin McClain’s face and his name plastered down the entire length of the bus. She’d never been a big country music fan, but she recognized the cowboy singer. His rugged good looks and heart-stopping smile were even more impressive billboard sized.

Joe trotted over with a clipboard.

“What’s going on? You bring in live entertainment for the annual employee barbecue?”

“You wish. This is a potential client. He’s inside with Garrett right now, but the boss wants you to catalog all the possible security breaches for this bus. Then head up to the second-floor conference room and we’ll go from there.” He passed over the clipboard.

“Will do. Is the bus locked?”

Joe scowled. “No. The door wasn’t even completely latched when I got down here.”

“Anyone on board?”

“Nope. It’s all yours.”

She nodded and got to work.

Fifteen minutes later, Liberty entered the conference room. Joe pulled out a chair next to him, but the four guys on the opposite side of the table didn’t miss a beat in their conversation.

Devin McClain was stretched out in his chair, arms folded over his chest with obvious belligerence. He wore a ball cap pulled low so half his face was obscured.

The man in the three-piece suit next to Devin ended with “What we’re asking for is a minimum of two, and we want them 24/7.”

“No,” Devin said with an emphatic shake of his head. “That ain’t happening.”

Three-piece-suit man sighed. “That is not your decision to make anymore.”

“The hell it isn’t. This affects me the most, so it should be solely my decision.”

Garrett scrawled across his notebook. “How long is this ‘Heroes and Heartbreakers’ tour?”

“Four months,” the bearded man sitting on the other side of Devin said. “The shows take place at a mix of smaller venues, like county fairs and casinos, and at bigger event centers, like stadiums. This leg of the tour bounces all around the Southwest for three months. Then there’s a ten-day break before finishing the final three weeks of the tour on the West Coast.”

“We’ll need a copy of the full schedule,” Joe said. “So we can see the security setups at the performance sites.”

“We don’t normally contract out for that long with one person, let alone two,” Garrett pointed out.

Devin scowled. “I don’t need two full-time security guards. I’m still not convinced I need even one. I’m leaning toward callin’ this whole thing a gigantic waste of everyone’s time—especially mine.”

Liberty kept her face schooled, but she was thinking, Wow. Diva much?

Garrett must’ve been thinking along the same lines because his gaze hooked hers. “Why don’t you tell Mr. McClain and his . . . advisers what you found on your security check of the tour bus?”

Liberty addressed the bearded guy, who appeared to be in charge. Holding up the clipboard, she pointed to all the red check marks. “These are considered security weak spots. I found more than a dozen. The first one? Door to the bus wasn’t shut, let alone locked. And upon examination, the lock is nonfunctioning.”

“Maybe the person who beat the shit out of JT busted it when he broke in,” Devin said tightly. “We haven’t had time to get it fixed, and it worked fine before that.”

She had no idea who the JT person was. “Or maybe the fact it was broken beforehand and no one had checked it made access easier?” she said coolly.

“What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing. I’m stating facts.” She waggled the clipboard at him. “Your current security measures are downright laughable, Mr. McClain, since you don’t seem to have any.”

Silence.

Liberty shot Garrett a look. He wasn’t wearing a frown that indicated she’d stepped out of line.

“Who exactly are you?” Devin said to Liberty with a slight sneer in his tone.

Garrett leaned forward, locking his gaze to Devin’s. “Liberty works for me as a security specialist. And before you further insult her, I’ll point out that she spent years in the army, working for various security task forces. She knows what she’s talkin’ about. Questioning her qualifications is not only an insult to her but to me, so tread lightly.”

Devin held up his hands in mock surrender. “I apologize to both of you.” He directed his next question to Liberty. “Please summarize what you see as the biggest security risks.”

“First, it sounds like you have zero personal protection right now.”

“I wouldn’t say zero. I have security escorts at the larger event centers.”

“That’s your biggest mistake right there, especially if you’ve been dealing with any kind of personal threats. You need daily personal protection. Did you have security guards in Kansas City?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Inside the arena.”

“Did they escort you from the bus inside the building?”

He shook his head.

“Whose decision was that?”

“Mine. I usually walk with the band.”

“That would be the first thing I’d change. More than safety in numbers, you need professional security. I doubt your drummer would know what to do if you were attacked.”

The bearded guy laughed and covered the noise with a cough.

“What else?”

“Take your face and your name off the side of the bus. That’s just inviting trouble. If having your face billboard sized is a vanity thing, get over it. A nondescript vehicle cuts your security risks in half since no one knows you’re on board.”

Devin’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t respond.

So she continued. “There are four bunk spaces, but it looks to me as though they’re being used to store random sh—stuff. It’s an easy place for someone to hide or to hide something. The band doesn’t travel on your bus?”

“The band travels in a separate bus, as do the roadies who handle the equipment.”

“How many buses are in the Devin McClain traveling show?”

“There are three tour buses and two semis.”

“We’re getting sidetracked here,” three-piece-suit guy interjected. “I need to know if GSC can handle Devin’s security needs.”

Garrett tapped his pen on the table. “I’m getting mixed signals. Who makes the final decision on this?”

“I do,” Devin said, keeping his focus on Garrett. “So let’s cut to the chase. Here are my revised security requirements. One security specialist who will blend in with my crew. While security is your main concern, privacy is mine. I require time alone to work. I understand this person will need to be close by at all times, but you all need to understand that if I have to choose between my safety and my ability to make music, the music will win every time.”

For the first time, Liberty understood Devin’s underlying frustration with the situation.

“Give me time to confer with my team. Any last questions before we duck out for a few?”

Liberty’s stomach pitched when Devin aimed those intense blue eyes at her. “Anything else you want to add?”

The cool tone wasn’t only a challenge, but his clear displeasure that she’d voiced an opinion. Because she was a woman? Or because she’d dissed his operation? She let her gaze flit across the men on his side of the table, three-piece-suit guy, bearded guy and a guy wearing a cowboy hat who hadn’t said a word. “Brutal honesty, Mr. McClain? You’ve reached a high level of success in the music world. You deserve a nicer bus than that piece of shit parked out front, especially if your safety truly is their number-one concern.”

The man didn’t even crack a smile.

Just as they were walking out the door, the guy in the cowboy hat said, “Hold up.” He meandered over and handed Garrett a sheaf of paper. “Here are the rates we’re prepared to offer for this contract. So you know we’re serious.” Then he murmured something to Garrett.

Interesting. Liberty wondered if Devin McClain knew what his safety was worth.

After the cowboy hat guy trotted off, Garrett and Joe conferred in low tones. She wanted to eavesdrop, but something in their stiff postures worried her, so she hustled into Garrett’s office.

A few minutes later, Joe plopped next to her in the chair opposite Garrett’s desk.

Garrett refilled his cup of coffee before he took his seat. He unfolded the paper and raised both his eyebrows before passing it to Joe.

“That good, huh?” Liberty prompted.

“Holy fucking shit would be appropriate here.” Joe squinted at the paper. “This is one of the highest pay rates I’ve ever seen.”

Liberty snorted. “It’d have to be since Mr. McClain is a dickhead and no sane person would ever take on the assignment.”

“Liberty.”

Although she’d been chastised, she pushed her point. “Why are you even considering taking this job? It’s not like GSC needs the work.”

Garrett sighed. “It’s a personal favor. My sister, Tanna, went through a rough patch, and Devin was always there for her in ways I couldn’t be. So I owe him. And he’s more messed up about this latest incident than he’s letting on.” He summarized the past trouble in Devin’s world. She was shocked someone in Devin’s position just kept going about business as usual—as if none of the threats mattered or had affected him at all.

“Liberty?”

Her gaze snapped to Garrett’s. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if you’ve ever met Devin before.”

“No. Why?”

“You know the connection between your sister and mine is what brought you to my attention in the first place. Tanna and Harper are both married to men who grew up in the Muddy Gap/Rawlins area. That’s where Devin is originally from.”

“I’ve heard Harper and Bran talk about him, and I guess he goes back there sometimes, but I’ve never met him.”

“I’m hopin’ that’ll work in our favor,” Garrett drawled.

“I don’t follow.”

Garrett and Joe exchanged an oddly wary look.

“Should I shoot myself in the foot now?”

Joe laughed. “And everyone says you don’t have a sense of humor.”

She scowled at him and then said to Garrett, “Go on.”

“The best—hell, the only solution—is to send you out on tour with Devin McClain. And hear me out before you pull your gun on me. You’ve been begging us to send you on assignment. You are an excellent trainer, but this is a better training opportunity for you. Not only because of the money for us.”

Liberty fought the urge to laugh. It was always about the money. “With the big swinging dick that Devin McClain wields, there’s no way he’ll agree to having a woman as his personal security. No way in hell.”

“It’ll be his only choice if he wants to hire us.” Garrett fiddled with his pen. “The rest of the guys won’t agree to be away from their families for that long. Not only that. You’ve asked for a job like this for the past four months. Here’s your chance to jump to the next level and prove you’re qualified for fieldwork.”

“Slathering on compliments?”

Garrett smiled. “And you’re deflecting them. I don’t say it unless it’s true—you know that about me.”

“Yes, but I’m still on probation.” Garrett required a year of probation for all his new hires. While it sucked that the slightest infraction could get her shit-canned, it ensured the ones who hit the twelve-month mark were worthy of carrying out the sometimes dangerous work the job demanded.

“In four and a half months you’ll be within a week of permanent status. You take on this job, I’ll give you that last week.”

“Sorry, but no. I’ll pass.”

Joe and Garrett exchanged another look.

“What now?”

“This information doesn’t leave this room. The promoter has sweetened the pot. There’s a hundred-thousand-dollar bonus if the bodyguard lasts the entire tour. So if you agree to take this assignment, in addition to getting paid your regular rate, we’ll let you keep the bonus.”

She perked up at that prospect. “Seriously? Every penny?”

“Every penny, and I’ll kick in enough to cover the taxes on it.”

That money would provide a hefty down payment on a house. Roughly four months out of her life would make her dream of home ownership a reality, and she’d get experience in the field that would increase her base pay rate. Win-win.

“Deal.”

Joe slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the desk. “You suck.”

Garrett swept the money into his desk drawer. “I warned you not to bet against me, Joe.”

“What the hell kinda bet did you two make about me?” Liberty demanded.

“That you’d be more interested in the money than living in close quarters with one of People magazine’s hottest men in music.”

Liberty rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Joe? You haven’t learned anything about me in the past eight months? I oughta make you pony up twenty to me for the damn insult.”

Joe gr