Hillbilly Rockstar

by Lorelei James

  Garrett said.

  “That theory will be blown when she’s conferring with the event security, wearing an earpiece and holstering a firearm under her business suit. Or if she perceives a threat and pulls a gun, because she—and no offense, sweetheart—looks awful trigger-happy.”

  She set her forearms on the table. “You have no idea how true that statement is. But right now the person I’d be gunning for most is you, sweetheart.” Then she smiled.

  Holy shit. The smile completely transformed her face—but Devin wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing because the grin straddled the line between sexy and evil.

  “I know it’s hard for you to keep your morbid sense of humor in check, Liberty, but please try,” Garrett drawled.

  That wasn’t exactly a reprimand from her boss. Christ. The woman had threatened to shoot him. Had no one caught that?

  Devin bristled. “I’m not joking when I say that you’re not even close to my type.”

  “I assure you, Mr. McClain, you’re no more my type than I am yours.”

  “Does your type have breasts and a vagina too?” It slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

  Rather than bristle, she looked at each of the men beside her. They seemed . . . amused. Or maybe slightly scared of what she might do or say next.

  “I’m not a lesbian—not that it would matter if I were. I’m very good at my job, but I see you’ve got too much ego to find that out for yourself. I doubt it’s your naturally protective male instincts telling you that it’s a crime against nature to hire me, but more your testosterone-laden fear that someone—your fans, your friends, your family in Wyoming, your way-hotter-than-me female groupies—will think less of you for having to hire security at all.”

  It pissed him off that she already had his number. If she could read him that well, how quickly could she assess a potentially dangerous situation? “Go on.”

  “People want a piece of you. People think they know you through your music. While ninety-nine percent of your fans are just normal, everyday people who love music, it’s my job to be concerned about that other one percent who boarded the crazy train. And, honestly, if it’s only about appearances for you, wouldn’t you rather people know it takes only one butch woman to protect you instead of two former linebackers? That makes you look badass, not weak.”

  Damn. This woman was really, really good.

  So he shocked the shit out of her by saying, “So much for my theory that you’re the fade into the background with your mouth shut type.”

  “Only when it’s warranted, sir.”

  Devin directed his question to Garrett just to see if she’d become outwardly indignant. “Has she ever saved someone’s life?”

  “Absolutely. She’s a bona fide hero,” Joe inserted with pride. “Two years ago, while serving in Afghanistan, she took three bullets as part of a security detail. The intended target was . . . ?”

  “An ambassador to the UN,” she supplied.

  “Did you know him?” Devin asked.

  “No. But that didn’t matter because I did my job—which was protecting him.”

  “Liberty received an honorable discharge.” Garrett paused. “If you have any further questions, please address Liberty directly.”

  “Fine.” Devin locked his gaze to Liberty’s and said, “Everyone out. I want to talk with G.I. Jane one-on-one.”

  After the door closed and they were alone, Devin said, “No offense. I really don’t want to hire you. Not because you’re a woman, but because I don’t want to hire anyone.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “You should also know that I’m not sexist, but—”

  “In my experience, men who say that usually are sexist.”

  He fought a sigh. “You don’t give an inch, do you?”

  She maintained eye contact. “After spending more than a dozen years in the military, I’m good at doing what I’m told. But I was also in a position of command, so when I issue an order, I expect it to be followed. I suspect you’re not the type to follow orders—from men or women.”

  G.I. Jane had definitely hit the nail on the head. Devin scrubbed his hands over his face. “Look. I’m not an asshole.”

  “In my experience, men who say that—”

  “Usually are assholes. Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He paused, needing to take a different, less antagonistic tack with her. “How’d you know I’m from Wyoming? Did you read my bio?”

  “No. My sister lives outside of Muddy Gap.”

  “Who’s your sister?”

  “Harper Turner.”

  His jaw dropped. “Are you fuckin’ serious? Hot, sexy beauty queen Harper is your sister?”

  “Hard to believe, isn’t it?” she said with a hint of humor. “Harper got the looks in our family and our little sister Bailey got the brains.”

  “What did you get?”

  “Resolve.”

  Not the answer he expected.

  As they stared at each other across the table, ready to battle, Devin realized her eyes weren’t a boring hue, but almost a shimmery silver.

  What the fuck? Since when do you give a shit about her eye color? Focus. “What now?”

  “How about you listen to my stipulations before I hear yours? We can go from there.”

  He motioned for her to bring it.

  “If you hire me, I will be by your side 24/7. I have one job: your bodyguard. I don’t fetch coffee. I don’t cook. I don’t clean your tour bus. I don’t chauffeur you around. I don’t wash your clothes. I don’t run errands. I don’t mix drinks. I don’t answer your fan mail. I don’t procure groupies for you to fuck. I don’t get on my knees and suck you off. I’m not paid to kiss your ass; I’m paid to protect it.”

  No confusion on her job expectations.

  “Now, what were your concerns?” she said frostily.

  “You’re a little prickly, aren’t you?”

  “If you’d dealt with as many pricks as I have over the years, you’d know some of that attitude was bound to rub off on me.”

  He laughed. “Well, my set of conditions is a bit different. You protect me, but you don’t get to judge me. I like women, I like sex and I have a lot of both. I’m up late, which means I sleep late, but that don’t mean I’m lazy. I work out at least every other day, so you need to keep up. That said, I need time alone to write, and the only time that happens is when I’m on my tour bus. I’ll be one hundred percent safe while we’re traveling down the road, so during that time, you’ll need to entertain yourself.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “My biggest stipulation is that you can’t tell anyone you’re my bodyguard, especially your sister. I don’t need this spread among my friends in Muddy Gap.”

  “GSC is discreet and professional. I have nondisclosure agreements with them, and I’m fully prepared to sign them with you. I don’t talk about my work with anyone.”

  “I appreciate that. Now, here’s my final concern. Crash will tell everyone associated with the tour that you’re my new personal assistant. However, when you store your stuff in my tour bus, no one is gonna believe it. They’ll assume we’re fucking. Will that be a problem for you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t care about anything except doing my job.”

  Devin raised an eyebrow. “Even if it means I’ll parade groupies past you?” he countered. “You prepared for the questions from my bandmates? You don’t care if they think you’re a star fucker? You can honestly act like you don’t give a shit who I fuck as long as I’m givin’ it to you on a regular basis? Because in my past experiences, no woman ever deals well with that.”

  That gave her pause. Then she offered him that evil smile. “Maybe since I’m a more . . . masculine-acting woman—your words, not mine, Mr. McClain—that means I proudly embrace the same I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude that men do when it comes to casual sex.”

  “You gonna toss my knee-jerk comment about your physical attributes in my face every cha
nce you get?”

  Liberty cocked her head. “Yep. You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it, which means you have to accept that I won’t forget it. You’re used to saying whatever pops into your head, and I doubt anyone ever calls you out on it. Be warned: I will.”

  “So noted.”

  “And I don’t shy away from asking what I need to know.”

  “Such as?”

  “When was your last relationship that lasted longer than a box of condoms?”

  He refused to let her get a rise out of him. “Four years ago.”

  “Then no one is expecting you to suddenly become monogamous.”

  “True.” He took a sip of his cold coffee. “But I’ll expect you to look like the type of woman I’d hire. Or have in my bed.”

  She scowled. “What does Devin McClain’s type look like?”

  “Not that.” He gestured to her outfit. “Wearing a getup like that will be a dead giveaway that you’re not who you claim to be. And I’m not all right with that. You shouldn’t be either. Darlin’, you gotta blend.”

  Instead of bristling, she nodded. “Understood. But I won’t wear constricting clothing. I can’t run in high heels. My gun needs to be accessible at all times.”

  “Will you always be carrying?”

  “It’ll depend on the situation. But, yes, I’ll either have a handgun or a stun gun on my person, which is standard in the personal-protection business regardless of your gender or mine.”

  Devin didn’t want this—he truly felt he didn’t need it. But in the case of picking the lesser of two evils, he’d choose her. He managed a smile. “You’re hired. I play Denver tonight and Cheyenne tomorrow night. The tour leaves in three days. See that you’re ready.”

  “I will be. And thank you.” She pushed back from the table. “I’ll bring the others back in so you all can iron out the final details.” She slipped out the door.

  He closed his eyes. Given how much they’d butted heads in the past hour, he’d better stock up on headache medicine.

  After a minute, the chair next to him squeaked, but he kept his eyes closed. His agent said, “Everything all right?”

  “I guess.”

  “Choosing her is the smart move, Devin.”

  Like they’d given him a choice. “Why? Because I’m not attracted to her in the least?”

  His agent cursed softly, then leaned closer. “No. Because it’s what the tour promoters want. After agreeing not to play the song that’s brought everyone a buttload of trouble, and following their security demands, you’ll be seen as a team player. They’ll reward you. Mark my words.”

  “Great.”

  “It will be.”

  Devin opened his eyes. Liberty had retaken her seat but wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  Carl and Garrett were passing papers back and forth. Everyone else was silent.

  Wasn’t long before Liberty said, “Garrett, you need anything else from me right now?”

  “No. If you have something else to do, feel free.”

  She stood and left the room.

  Talk about a hasty exit. His gaze connected with Joe’s, and the level of animosity surprised him. Then Joe murmured something to Garrett and took off after Liberty.

  What had happened? Was his new bodyguard involved with one of her bosses?

  Before he could ask about the Joe/Liberty dynamic, he was hit with a barrage of questions. Now that he’d been muscled into agreeing to full-time security, the remaining negotiations didn’t interest him. He tuned out, focusing on the tune in his head that’d been giving him fits over the past week.

  He heard a soft sigh and glanced over at Crash. His road manager was bored out of his skull too.

  “We’re done here,” his agent said. “You and Crash are meeting Carl and me at our hotel to finalize tour plans.”

  “How am I supposed to get there? I came on my bus. And since ridin’ around in it is like painting a bull’s-eye on me . . .”

  “Garrett will escort you. Get anything you’ll need off that bus. The transport company providing the new bus will transfer the rest of your belongings.”

  Devin grinned. “Hot damn. Do I get to choose my bus this time?”

  Carl shook his head. “But I guarantee it’ll be top-of-the-line, with all of the safety recommendations. Only the best for our best and brightest.”

  Carl’s slimy smile dimmed Devin’s happiness. No good deed was offered without strings. But he knew how the game was played. If he acted grateful, maybe those strings wouldn’t choke him.

  “We’ll see you at the hotel.” Hands were shaken. Then his agent and Carl left him and Crash alone with Garrett.

  Crash stood. “I’ll get your guitar. I know that’s all you really give a shit about.”

  “My day travel duffel is in the first bunk.” He kept an emergency bag packed at all times. That came in handy when he was called to fill in for last-minute gigs and had to hop on a plane at a moment’s notice.

  “Got it. See ya down there.”

  Garrett stood. “I’ll give you the nickel tour on our way down to the parking garage.”

  He followed Garrett into the hallway. “I appreciate you makin’ this work, Garrett.”

  “I guarantee you’ll find Liberty a better fit into your lifestyle than the guys from LaGruder Security.” He punched the elevator button. “As it is, you’ll get a taste of that type of protection the next couple of days.”

  Devin frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Garrett crossed his arms over his chest. “You really are the last to know. Carl already hired two bodyguards from LaGruder. They’ll be with you until Liberty takes over.”

  “So I’ve got two fuckin’ babysitters?”

  “I wouldn’t use that term around security specialists,” Garrett said dryly, “as it tends to piss them off. But, yeah, LaGruder is the big dog in this town in the personal-protection business. That’s why Carl picked them sight unseen.”

  Devin changed the subject when they stepped into the elevator. “How’s Tanna? I haven’t had a chance to talk to her much.”

  Garrett’s eyes warmed slightly. “Happy. Busy. She’s still runnin’ the circuit, but she’s struggling to stay in the top fifteen. I know she has her heart set on back-to-back world titles. But she and Fletch are tryin’ to start a family, and she wants that even more.” He paused. “And don’t worry that I’ll tell Tanna anything. I don’t fuck around when I promise my clients confidentiality. I have the same policy for those who work for me. No one in Wyoming knows that Liberty is on my payroll.”

  “How’s that possible?”

  “Tanna mentioned to me that her friend Harper’s sister was lookin’ for work after bein’ discharged from the military. I contacted Liberty and interviewed her.”

  “I get it. I’m sold on her.” Mostly. If he had to be saddled with a babysitter, he’d prefer someone with a personality—even an abrasive one—to humorless goons.

  They stopped outside a large window that looked into a workout room with weight machines, heavy bags, speed bags, and training dummies. Two people in full gear were sparring on the mat. Even through the glass, Devin could hear the sound of the gloves striking against flesh and the safety gear. Neither one held back.

  “Do they always train this hard?”

  “Yes, if they want to be employed here.”

  “How long will they go at it?” Devin asked.

  “Until one falls.”

  “Why’d they pair up like that? Seems the bigger guy has a huge advantage over the smaller guy.”

  “Because threats come in all shapes and sizes. My employees train against each other, but I also bring in other specialists in different martial arts disciplines so they don’t get complacent with their skills.”

  “With a setup like this, and your employees being mostly ex-military, I’d suspect you were running a private black ops group and not just a personal security company.”

  For the first time ever, Garrett Barker smiled
. It wasn’t a friendly smile. And the man neither confirmed nor denied Devin’s comment.

  Scary shit.

  Devin refocused on the fighters, watching as the smaller guy landed a punch to his opponent’s gut and then swept his legs out from under him.

  “And we have a winner,” Garrett murmured.

  The victor offered a hand to the loser to help him up. Then they removed their gloves and helmets.

  The smaller “guy” wasn’t a guy after all, but Liberty. And her