The man who opened the door was young, though older than me by a handful of years, stared at me. “Yes?”
“I’m the Tour Manager, Bianca Sheridan.” I pushed past him and studied the suitcases in the foyer. “These are for the tour?”
“Yes. Why exactly are you here?”
“I’m also filling the role as Mr. Walker’s assistant for the time being. He’s running late.” I looked at the butler fully. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Shamus.” The butler smiled. “Late is his MO.”
“Not today.” I tossed my keys at the guy. “Can you get his bags in my trunk please? I’ve got to go get Mr. Walker. His room is upstairs?”
“Yes, he has a guest.”
“Call a cab when you get back in and escort her out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shook his head slowly and gave a quiet laugh. “Good luck.”
“Bianca is fine.” I hurried up the stairs and picked up the trail of female clothes on the way. Interesting to note I didn’t see any of Nicholas’s clothes in the trail. The fact sort of gave me the impression of an in and out kind of guy. Since no one watched, I rolled my eyes then rapped twice on the open bedroom door.
“Mr. Walker?” Walking in I continued picking up clothes—even I didn’t wear this many layers—and stood next to the bed. Nicholas was half under the covers and snoring lightly. Lovely.
“Mr. Walker.” A little frustrated I nudged the bed with a foot, no way was I going to put a hand on it with his reputation, and he didn’t budge.
The female groaned softly from her prone position next to him and rolled to face me. “Who are you?”
“Mr. Walker’s assistant. Get up and get dressed. A taxi has been called.”
She yawned. “He said he didn’t have to leave until noon.”
I could have ground my teeth to powder. “So I’m here, in his house before eight in the morning because he’s early? Get up. Put your clothes on.” I handed them over to her. She huffed, climbed out of bed and slammed the bathroom door behind her. The shower clicked on moments later.
“Mr. Walker.” I leaned over and with a hand on his bare shoulder shook him hard.
“What?” His exhale had me reeling back. If air could cause intoxication I would have been on the floor.
I pinched the bridge of my nose before looking around for inspiration. His pants were in a heap on top of his boots. The shirt was across the room. I walked across the room and picked up the shirt contemplating ideas. I grabbed his jeans and boots and stood next to the bed again.
I set the clothes on the bed and leaned down to Nicholas. Taking a deep breath, I shoved down my irritation to speak in my gentlest voice. “It’s time to go.” I gently tugged on his arm. “Come on sit up for me?”
Guiding a toddler had such similarities that I smiled to myself. Nicholas grumbled but sat up with his eyes closed. I reminded myself not to stare, after all staring was rude without permission, but his bronze skin on display deserved a hymn to honor its perfection. His pecs were bare but a trail of hair ran from his belly button down to where thankfully, the blanket still covered him somewhat. Swallowing hard and glancing nervously at the bathroom door I decided to get this over with. I tugged the shirt over his head and guided his arms through the sleeves.
On the middle finger of his right hand he wore the ring he kept toying with last week. Up close, I could see a black stone—possibly onyx, maybe obsidian—set into a fleur de lis pattern that almost looked like a cross. Chunky and made of either silver or platinum, I bet it was worth more than my advance for taking this job.
I took a slow deep breath and exhaled just as leisurely. I will not look turned into I will not judge when I pulled the covers back and pulled his legs over the side of the bed. I kept my eyes carefully focused on his closed eyes so I wasn’t tempted to look where I had no business casting eyes onto. Apparently returning to his passed out state he slumped forward. Since he wasn’t arguing or fighting I assumed he was okay with me dressing him.
His feet easily tucked into his pants and I pulled them up to his knees. Next was the tricky part. I kept my eyes on his face. “Come on, Walker. Stand up for a minute.”
He grumbled but swayed to his feet with my help. His torso fell heavily against me as I lifted his pants into place and nearly took us both to the floor. I tucked his shirt in and was very careful to keep fabric under my hand.
I wanted the fabric against his skin for two reason. One—me touching, even accidentally, that part of him without his permission felt wrong in so many ways. Two—when I zipped his pants, if anything caught I didn’t want it to be man flesh.
He slumped back to the bed the moment I got his jeans snapped but that worked for me. I tugged his boots on, then picked up his wallet and phone from the nightstand and shoved them into his available pockets.
“Okay. It’s time to go.” I had no clue how I was going to get the still mostly drunk and semi-conscious Nicholas Walker down the stairs.
“I want to sleep,” he muttered.
“You can sleep on the bus. For as long as you want.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart, Walker.”
“That’s nice,” he mumbled when I pulled him up a second time.
“What is?” I wrapped an arm around his waist hoping he’d hold up most of his own weight.
“Walker. No one’s called me that since high school football.”
“You played football?”
He seemed inclined to follow my lead as long as I kept talking.
“Some in college too,” he mumbled and stumbled, but at least he was moving.
I had to grab his belt loops to keep him from tumbling down the stairs. His body slammed into mine, knocking the air out of my lungs and pinning me against the wall. I was breathing hard for entirely different reasons when his hand came up and rested on my hip.
“Walker.” I cleared my throat. The breathy tone definitely did not sound authoritative. “Walker, you’re heavy.”
“You smell good.” He nuzzled the side of my neck. When his tongue licked as if testing I couldn’t stop myself from quivering.
“Thank you.” I gave up the fight on breathy. I could barely breathe, so breathy was okay. “You need to hold more of your weight I can’t breathe.”
“It’s not me.” His nose rubbed the side of my face and I felt his mouth drifting across my jaw. The hand that wasn’t on my hip was traveling up my side and flirting dangerously with the side of my breast. Thank God my gun was on the other side.
I turned my head as his lips reached my mouth so he only brushed over my cheek. I called as loudly as I dared without upsetting Nicholas. “Shamus.”
When I got no response, I fisted a hand and tapped it against the wall. “Shamus.”
I don’t know what he saw when he stood at the bottom of the stairs but he came up them three at a time. “Hey, Nick, let’s give Miss Bianca some air.”
Shamus took most of Nicholas’s semiconscious weight and studied me as I brushed hands down my skirt. “You okay?”
I nodded without looking at him. “Knocked the wind out of me mostly. Let’s get him in the car. The guys can help cart his ass onto the tour bus.”
Shamus nodded and helped Nicholas down the stair with me behind them. I ignored my shaking legs and tight stomach. Nicholas was drunk and out of it—he wasn’t interested in me as a person.
I was a little shaken by the experience. I wasn’t cheap. At least what I told myself. I most certainly wasn’t aroused. There was no reason for that kind of reaction. Was he good looking? Yes. Was I interested in the philander? Absolutely not.
I checked my watch, calculated, and figured I’d be cutting it close to get us back to the buses on time. I followed Shamus and Nicholas down the stairs and outside, using the time to steady myself. After Shamus dumped Nicholas into the car, I nodded to him and walked around to the driver’s side.
“Thanks so much. The…girl is in the shower. Escort her out and make
sure she doesn’t take anything that’s not hers.”
“Not my first rodeo.” Shamus smiled. “Have fun on tour.”
I gave him a thumbs up and climbed into my car. I checked to make sure Nicholas’s seat belt was fastened before pulling out of the drive. With rush hour so close the highways were a no go and I had a schedule to keep.
I sped through the side streets of town as fast as traffic would allow. I had been in Nashville long enough to know some of the most obscure roads to get through town in a pinch. Nicholas leaned against his door with his face pressed to the glass and by all appearances seemed back asleep. My tires squealed around the turn into the garage and the stop was less than gentle. Four minutes to go. I tapped the horn lightly twice and hopped out.
“Come on, Walker. It’s time for bed.” I unbuckled his seatbelt and hauled him out.
Three sets of very surprised eyes bulged at me. I tossed the keys to Max. “Get his stuff out of the back and grab my purse and phone.”
“You smell like mysteries and exotic places.” Nicholas leaned heavier against me. I stumbled a little and was grateful when Guy came to Nicholas’s other side to take some of his weight.
“So tired,” the singer muttered.
“Bed’s on the bus. I promised, remember.”
We were forced to move one at a time onto the bus. I went first in case he toppled forward and Guy came up behind him. He staggered up the stairs a lot easier then he’d stumbled down them at his house.
“Keeping promises is important.” He swayed and I wrapped fingers around his wrists guiding him cautiously forward through the bus.
“I never break a promise.” I told him as I back stepped into his space.
When I pushed him down on the bed he automatically pulled off his shirt and wriggled out of his pants and boots as he climbed up to the pillows. I only shook my head and pulled the covers over him as the now naked Nicholas settled into deep sleep once more.
I closed the door as I stepped out and back down to the lounge area. “Thank you.” I accepted my purse from Arc and opened it to check for the phone. Pulling it out I ticked off the schedule and nodded.
“Would one of you take his bags back in a moment?” I sat and pulled off my heels. The first stop would be in four hours. I didn’t need my shoes until then.
“I’ll do it later,” Max offered.
The guys sat as the bus pulled out of the garage.
“As I was saying,” I spread my hands out, “these hands are the path to timely success.”
Cursing followed by the bathroom door slamming interrupted our card game. The guys were teaching me Spades, and I thought I had a pretty good handle on it. I hadn’t trumped Arc, my partner, in four rounds, which was a good thing.
I planned ahead and noted the guy’s food order—minus Nicholas’s, of course. We didn’t want someone missing a meal because they slept through a stop. The kitchenette had a microwave so reheating wasn’t going to be a problem.
Nicholas stormed out of the back. “What the fuck is going on?” He stopped in his tracks as his eyes narrowed to focus on my face. “Songbird.” Then he looked over at the guys, “Why is she here?”
“I knew you looked familiar.” Max snapped his fingers. “Bluejay.”
“I thought Ezra told you about the tour manager.” I pushed my glasses back up and tilted my head.
“We got a group email.” Guy wiggled his eyebrows at me behind Nicholas’s back. “Ezra included your resume and qualifications, though he left out your name.”
“You got some hella credentials, darling.” Arc didn’t quite hide his smile behind his hand.
Nicholas snarled and yanked out his phone. His finger about broke the screen of the device as he searched for the number. Holding the phone to his ear, he waiting a second for the other end to be answered before barking into the receiver. “What the fuck.”
He paused, shifted so his back was to me and tapped his toes. “I don’t fucking care. A woman. Are you serious?”
He paused again. “I don’t have the fucking time or inclination to deal with a chick on my own damn bus. I don’t care what her fucking skill level is.”
Another pause and he paced the few steps separating us from the bedroom before growling into the phone again. “If you really think this is some backwards ass fucking way of getting me to heel you’re fucking delusional. Music is my heart; that’s all I make time for. I don’t have any inclination to deal with female histrionics.”
Time for me to step in. I clapped slowly, mockingly. “That’s a fine speech coming out your ass. Did you practice that in the mirror?”
The guys cringed away from the visible power war when I stood and faced him. I needed their respect, so I squashed the instinct to recoil from his violent eyes. However, nothing about the man indicated he would strike me. Whatever else he may be, Nicholas Walker wasn’t a woman beater.
Nicholas stalked back to face me down. His nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, Songbird.”
“I’m your tour manager, Mr. Walker.” I fisted a hand on my hip and looked him directly in the eyes. “I’m not here to entertain you, or whatever the fuck you got into your head. I won’t wipe your ass.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Unless you have some medical reason you need me to.” Planting my feet, I inhaled a long breath before I started shouting. “If you need a whore, I’m sure the groupies would be more than happy to satisfy that need. I’ll even set it up for you. I can even take out the trash when you’re done like I did this morning.”
Nicholas visibly flinched. The hand at his side clenched and the knuckles went white on his phone.
I caught his phone when he threw it. “We don’t have time to stop to replace it until Portland. I don’t think you want to be four days without a phone.” I realized the call hadn’t been ended, so I held it out to him. “Say goodbye to Ezra.” I glanced at my watch. “We’re about to stop for dinner. It’s a two hour stop and the drivers are switching to continue on through the night. If you want to eat, now’s the time. If you don’t we stop again in six hours for gasoline and a leg stretch.”
He snatched the phone from my hand. “Listen, Songbird, I really don’t want to fucking deal with female hysterics on a three month fucking long tour. I don’t care how good you are.”
“Mr. Walker.” I decided he could use the lesson of his own words. “You’re being an asshole, and you’re treating me like your shit doesn’t stink. Well I have news.”
His jaw clenched and ticked. “You would fucking compare me to that asshole?”
I gestured with a hand. “Proof is in the pudding.”
He snarled, turned and stalked back to his room. The door vibrated for several long seconds after it slammed.
“You’ve got balls, Stilts,” Max stated quietly.
“Brave, brave woman,” Guy commented.
I sat down and rubbed my chilled arms. No, not brave. Just incredibly stubborn. I pushed a smile to my lips buffed my nailed on my shirt to hide the shaking and picked the cards back up. “Where’d we stop?”
Even as I told myself he could starve and rot the peacekeeper in me demanded I make amends. When the bus stopped for gas and food, I eyed the bedroom warily. Since the door slammed there hadn’t been a peep from Nicholas.
“Can I ask a favor?” I looked at the boys. I was about to ask a huge favor and would need to sweeten the pot a little if I wanted them to agree.
“Doesn’t hurt to ask.” Guy replied.
“Can you guys rotate on fresh air and leg stretches,” I pointed to the back, “I don’t want that one sneaking off and fucking the schedule. And in his current mood, I have no doubt he will, given the opportunity.”
Max laughed. “You’ve got his number already.”
“I’ll run and grab dinner, and I’ll bring back desert if you can do this for me.” I gestured to the rest stop. I had no idea what I would find inside but I was praying for a Carvel or something close.
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br /> “Coffee,” Arc said. “I want coffee, real coffee and you have a deal. I’ll stick around.”
The other guys nodded.
“We don’t eat sugar the way Nick does.” Max stated. “Just bring the coffee, and as much as you can.”
“Okay.” I waved to Doug smoking a cigarette near the front of the bus as I jogged into the rest stop.
No Carvel but the Dairy Queen would work. I pulled out my phone and began collecting food for six men. By the time I got my DQ order I was doing some creative juggling.
Charlie grinned at me as he was walking in and at least held the doors so I could get out. I jogged across the lot and back up to the bus. I could hear the shouting within three feet of the door.
“You’re not my fucking boss,” a very angry Nicholas roared.
Rolling my eyes—this was the worst first day of tour I’ve ever had—I painted a smile on and climbed back onto the bus.
“I’ve got dinner guys, and turtle cheesecake blizzards.” I pretended to be surprised to see Nicholas out of his room. “Hey. Guy said you’d be okay with a bacon burger and a baked potato but I can go get something else if you’d like. There’s ice cream here too. And I’ve got this box of Joe and a bag full of coffee condiments if you prefer.”
“I could go for some ice cream,” Nicholas muttered and took the DQ carrier and wandered over to the kitchenette counter to dig for a spoon. “Cool, chocolate and caramel.”
Arc grinned at me—his back was to Nicholas—and took the coffee and condiments.
“Smells good, Stilts.” Max set the table.
“If you want coffee after dinner, I make a cup that rivals Starbucks.” I offered.
“Yeah?” Guy sat and began opening the bags I set down.
I wrung my hands and watched them unload the bags. Arc and Max sat devouring their meals in great gulping mouthfuls.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Nicholas asked and I jolted.
I turned to see him leaning against the counter and licking ice cream off a spoon. His eyes were narrowed and focused on me. My stomach tightened and I was forced to look away. Why was watching the man eat such a sensual act?
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