Ladies Love Rock Stars: Taming the Bad Boys of Rock and Roll

by D'Ann Lindun

  “Thanks, buddy.”

  Breakfast was quickly finished, and the dishes done and stowed in their boxes.

  Shannon indicated a gunny sack and a thermos on an empty chair. “I made lunch for you guys. Plus, there’s food for tonight and tomorrow morning, too.”

  Montana hugged her. “Thanks. Be safe.”

  “You, too.” Shannon held tight for a moment, then released her.

  Part regret and part anticipation filled Montana. What would happen when they were gone? Would she be able to fend off her growing feelings for Johnny?

  “We better ride,” she said. “Daylight’s burning.”

  Adrian pushed to her feet. “I’m ready.”

  Shannon took her elbow. “Easy does it.”

  “Ryan, bring Hawk up to the tent, will you?” At his nod, Montana moved to Adrian’s other side and took the petite woman’s arm. “Go slow. Your horse is right outside.”

  They led Adrian outside, where she stopped and blinked in the bright light bouncing off the snow. “Wow. I can’t see.”

  Johnny followed them outside. “Where are your sunglasses?”

  “In my saddlebags, I think.”

  He stepped around them and searched inside the leather bags. “Yup. Found them.”

  She took the Ray-Bans with a shaky hand. “Thanks.”

  With a gentleness that surprised Montana, he lifted the petite woman and sat her on the pinto’s broad back. She swayed and he grabbed her knee. “You okay, babe?”

  “Just a little lightheaded. I’ll be fine.” She took her reins from Ryan. “Thanks.”

  Shannon mounted her gray. “I’m going right in front of you. Holler if you need me. Stoney will follow.”

  “I will. Thank you, Shannon.” Adrian smiled wanly.

  Stoney gently slapped her knee. “We got you.”

  Ryan settled in the middle of his chestnut and lifted the lead rope of the lead mule. With a nod at Montana, he whistled to let the mules know it was time to move out. Like a ribbon uncoiling—Ryan, the mules, Shannon, Adrian, Stoney and Joel bringing up the rear—they hit the trail.

  Sunflower neighed and pawed, anxious about being left behind. Montana placed a reassuring hand on his neck. “It’s okay, boy. They’re coming back in a few days.”

  The horse neighed again, clearly not buying it. Partly because the other horses had left, and partly because of the weather, the horses and mule left behind to carry their supplies were nervous and edgy.

  Montana and Johnny watched until the riders disappeared from sight. After the last tail vanished into the trees, she glanced at Johnny. “You ready to ride?”

  He grinned, but for once he didn’t say anything raunchy, seeming to sense such a move would send her bolting after the others. “I’m set.”

  “I need to make sure the fire’s out and grab our lunches. Keep an eye on the horses and mule, please.” Her heart pounded an uneven, fast rhythm as she hurried toward the tent. The wall of people protecting her from Johnny had just vanished, leaving her on her own.

  After making sure the fire was out and all the food was put away, she grabbed their supplies. Taking a deep breath, she walked back to Johnny, who stood holding the horses and pack mule. She tried not to stare at Johnny as she stowed the food in one pannier.

  He was so sexy. Bundled up in God knows how many layers, his broad shoulders and long legs still made her pulse race. The man could be the poster boy for jaw-dropping hot.

  Montana took Sunflower’s reins and nodded at Gunsmoke. “Watch him today. He’s full of it.”

  “Got it.” He led the horse in a couple circles before mounting. Again, the gelding acted perfectly gentle, showing no signs of his usual early-morning reluctance to be ridden.

  Montana let out the breath she’d been holding. Gunsmoke had never bucked off anyone, but he sometimes made a believer out of a rider, humping his back and stiff-legging it around a few moments. So far, he hadn’t tried that stunt with Johnny.

  “That horse likes you,” Montana said.

  Johnny patted the dun’s neck. “He’s a good boy.”

  “For you.”

  “Maybe I’ll take him home.”

  Montana laughed. “Where would you keep him? In your backyard?”

  “Why not? Give the paparazzi something to take pictures of besides me.”

  “I think he’s happier here,” Montana said.

  Johnny gave her a long look. “Who wouldn’t be?”

  “You wouldn’t,” she told him.

  “You could change my mind.”

  The look in his blue eyes made her knees weak. Clumsily, she climbed aboard Sunflower, leaned over to untie the mule and reined her palomino toward the same trail they had taken yesterday. The bright sun hit the snow, which made it impossible to see without heavy-duty sunglasses, and she pulled hers from her pocket. Although it was a beautiful day, the temperature hadn’t climbed much above freezing.

  Six layers kept Montana toasty. She glanced over her shoulder at Johnny. “You warm enough?”

  “Absolutely.” He flashed a smile and her stomach did a back flip.

  “If you get cold, tell me and I’ll stop to build a fire.”

  His rich chuckle washed over her. “Keep teasing me like that and I don’t know how long I can hold out.”

  With a lift of her reins, she spun the little palomino around on his hocks to face the rock star. The mule threw up his head and snorted. “Get one thing straight. We’re not searching for some spot under a tree to hump like bunnies.”

  Instead of being offended, Johnny only grinned, infuriating her further. With a huff, she reined the gelding around. The man was impossible. Had he ever met a woman who refused his advances? Did he think all he had to do was smile, wink, maybe sing a line or two and every female would lie down, spread her legs and beg him to jump on?

  Apparently.

  He’d misjudged her; she wasn’t easy like that.

  She’d almost slept with him yesterday. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  In the silence, broken only by soft hoof beats and the occasional plop of snow falling from tree branches onto the ground, she listened for bugling elk. Today they were quiet.

  At the fork in the trail between Hanging Bridge and Miner’s Point, she hesitated. The right fork would cross Hanging Bridge where fresh snow made it treacherous. Trouble was the left fork was much longer, miles further.

  Safety first, she reminded herself.

  With only the two of them in the wilderness, she had to take every precaution. No way would she risk life and limb when she could find elk in another area. Nudging the palomino with her heels, she chose the safer route.

  She turned her head to address Johnny. “What do you do for fun at home?” She paused a second. “Besides chase women.”

  “You don’t think much of my lifestyle, do you?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “I’m not familiar with it, so I can’t say one way or another.”

  “I like to watch football, especially the Seahawks. When I can, I go to Laker games. I play golf once in a while. Pretty much what every other single guy does.” Then he added as if an afterthought, “Write music, jam with the band.”

  “Hang out at a place called The Cave,” she prompted, curious about the place he liked.

  “Sometimes. When I want to be seen, or get my name in the papers.”

  She studied the nearby peaks, searching for movement. “Is fame difficult?”

  “As far as grocery shopping, or going out to dinner, yes. Otherwise, no. I wanted recognition for my music, so I can’t complain about the shitty stuff that comes with being known.”

  Montana recalled her days with Tom. College football fans had worshipped the running back to the point of practically canonizing him. They had not been able to go to dinner or a movie without someone stopping them to talk football, ask for an autograph, even touch him. Because his fans had practically stampeded over the top of her to get to him, she’d hated every second of public appearances.
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br />   “Being a celebrity would drive me crazy. People wanting a piece of me all the time,” she admitted.

  Johnny stayed silent so long she turned in her saddle to look at him. Had she struck a nerve?

  “Yeah. It’s something else.” His tone turned harsh. “It’s sometimes hard to separate the real thing from those who just want to use you.”

  Like his wife had?

  The question burned, but Montana bit it back. None of her business. A flicker of sympathy for him flared, but quickly died when she thought about the type of woman he’d chosen for his wife.

  A groupie.

  He’d gotten exactly what he deserved.

  His words brought her attention back to him. “It’s not always a love fest. It’s kinda rough when the people hate something you’ve put out there. A wakeup call that you can lose it all in a heartbeat.”

  She might not like who he married, or why, but she could relate to losing something he’d worked his butt off to build. “I get that. My father inherited this business from his father. Dad in turn gave it to me. If Joel hadn’t called and booked this trip, I would have been forced to sell off a huge chunk of my place. It would have killed me to lose what my grandfather and dad worked so hard for.”

  He nodded. “We slaved like dogs—Keifer and me—to get where we are. I can’t understand why he threw it all away—”

  “Your friend?”

  A muscle in his jaw worked. “Former.”

  Montana remembered from reports she’d read on the internet that Keifer had been Johnny’s best friend since middle school and was also the man with whom his wife had an affair. Ryan, Shannon and Rose had been Montana’s confidants since kindergarten. She could share her deepest secrets with them and know without a doubt they’d be safe. She didn’t know how she’d survive if one of them betrayed her.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said.

  “Me, too.” He dropped the reins on Gunsmoke’s neck and turned to his saddlebags for the liquor he never seemed to be without. Withdrawing a bottle of peach brandy, he unscrewed the top and took a deep swig. He held it toward her. “Want some?”

  “No thanks. I’m good.” She blanched. Her stomach couldn’t handle booze at ten a.m.

  “Suit yourself.” He took another deep slug.

  “If you fall off your horse today, I’m leaving you where you land.”

  His constant need for liquor confounded her. She liked an occasional drink, but not every single day. Did he have an alcohol problem? Drugs, too? She hadn’t seen him use, but that didn’t mean anything. Drug users could be sneaky.

  He shrugged, screwed the lid back on the bottle and stowed it in the saddlebags. “You’re a hard, hard woman, Montana Weaver.”

  “You have no idea,” she shot back.

  ~*~

  Johnny had only been half-kidding when he called Montana hard. Tough was a better description, although he had a feeling she was a lot softer than she pretended to be. He’d never met a woman like her. Self-sufficient, strong.

  Most women he knew demanded everything from him: money, validation. Fame.

  Montana swore she didn’t want fame and he almost believed her. Who helped her? Just Ryan and Shannon? If she had a family, she’d never said much about them other than brief mentions of her father. She’d never said a word about her mother or siblings.

  Maybe she was an only child like him.

  Keifer had been his blood brother. They fought, then within the next half hour they forgot whatever they’d argued about. They’d always loved each other. At least they had until Keifer started fucking Johnny’s wife.

  He wished for another drink to wash the bitter taste out of his mouth. But something held him back from reaching again for the brandy in his saddlebags…maybe the look of disgust in Montana’s eyes when he’d offered her a taste. It had been brief, but he’d caught the flicker of contempt before she masked her disdain.

  She hadn’t said so out loud, but her body language came across loud and clear—she thought him drinking before noon repulsive.

  Her reaction shocked him.

  Johnny Cortez wasn’t used to women questioning anything he did. Most found his antics hilarious. The drunker he got, the better bitches liked him. He couldn’t remember a time when a chick turned down sharing a drink with him. There had been very few who hadn’t given him exactly what he wanted.

  Certainly one had never criticized his choices.

  He should stick with that type and forget about the leggy blonde who made him examine his life choices. Stay with what he knew.

  Like Teal?

  Blonde, with big tits, wild and wicked like him, she’d been everything he thought he wanted. Yet, his little voice whispered, she’d almost destroyed him. Not only his emotional wellbeing, but his career took a dive because of her.

  Double damn.

  Why was he even thinking about this? It wasn’t as if he planned to ever get married again. The idea was repugnant. God knew he didn’t need a wedding ring to get laid, and children had never been something he wanted. In fact, he’d always gone to great lengths to avoid that particular trap. The life of a rock’n’roller wasn’t any place for a kid.

  Picking child-phobic women hadn’t been an accident. Strippers, lingerie models and the party girls who ran with the band weren’t mommy wannabes. They all understood the rules— play hard, keep it casual and nobody got hurt.

  When Stoney had misjudged and slept with the wrong woman, it had caught him in hell. A one night stand had resulted in a daughter he worshipped, but couldn’t see. When the girl he knocked up realized he wasn’t offering up a wedding ring, she turned rabid, refusing to let him see his child.

  By using his dick indiscriminately, Stoney had found himself in custody battle hell.

  Johnny had no intention of ever going down that path. Watching Stoney drown in misery was bad enough.

  Joel had warned him that Montana was a nice girl. A white wedding, a pack of kids and a picket fence were probably all dreams she held dear.

  Things Johnny would never offer.

  Up until now, he’d been determined to taste her, to screw her, but suddenly his drive to do so vanished. Almost as if he’d stood in a cold mountain rain, he could feel his desire vanish. He’d spend the next few days with her, hunt elk like he’d come to Colorado to do and leave her virtue intact.

  Better for both of them.

  No risk of her getting attached to him.

  No threat to his way of life and the freedom he craved.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Late in the afternoon, when the mountains began throwing shadows over the valleys, Montana reined in and turned toward Johnny. Although they’d spotted several herds of elk during the day, including numerous trophy bulls, he hadn’t taken a shot. He seemed distracted and not into hunting.

  “It’s getting late. We better head for the cabin.”

  He nodded. “Sounds good. I’m beat.”

  She shot him a sharp glance. Was he showing signs of altitude sickness? He looked a little pale, but not obviously ill like Adrian. “You okay?”

  “Fine. Just didn’t sleep great last night.”

  Her rest hadn’t been all that peaceful either. Her dreams played erotic pictures of a certain rock star making love to her all night long. She’d woken up cranky and restless. Needy.

  Shoving thoughts of Johnny out of her head, she spoke. “I know a place not too far from here that’s out of the wind. We can take a quick break, have some coffee and warm up a little before we head down.”

  Johnny turned up the collar on his black duster. Although he wore a neon orange beanie and vest, he looked so much like a sexy movie cowboy that her mouth went dry. Never in her life would she have expected to be so attracted to someone like him. Her taste had always run toward cowboys and athletes.

  But her pull to him was unmistakable.

  She guided them off the ridge into the trees. They had about an hour and a half before nightfall, but here in the pines, dus
k had already arrived. Montana trusted the horses and mule not to stumble—they could see a lot better than humans in the dark. Besides, all of them had been here before and knew the way.

  In a small meadow, she stopped and dismounted. “Let’s stretch our legs and have a bit of coffee.”

  Johnny dismounted. “How far to this cabin?”

  “Less than an hour.” She tied the horse and mule, then pulled her thermos and two tin cups out of her saddlebags. Pouring tepid coffee in both, she handed one to him.

  To her surprise, he didn’t top it off with brandy. She took another long look into his face to see if he appeared sick. Other than a little pale, he seemed normal. She restrained the urge to reach out and touch his skin. Something ate at him, but until he wanted to share, she’d leave him alone.

  “You know what sounds good?” he asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “A hot tub. I’m using muscles that haven’t been stretched in years.” He drained the cup. “I’m enjoying the hell out of myself, but I’m a little stiff.”

  She shot him a sideways glance to see if his words had a double meaning, but he didn’t wink, smile or smirk.

  “I know what will help with that,” she told him. “A nice long soak.”

  “There’s a hot tub at this cabin?”

  “Better. A natural hot springs.”

  “I didn’t bring trunks,” he said.

  “You don’t need them,” she said. “No one around but us.”

  He smiled then. “Montana-girl, this vacation just gets better and better.”

  Did he think she’d just suggested more than soaking aching muscles? Although used to riding, her body could also stand a nice steep in the hot springs. She took the cup from him with a shaking hand. “Let’s go.”

  Once mounted, she urged Sunflower toward the cabin. As they rode, Montana’s stomach churned and her shoulders ached with tension. When had an ordinary elk hunt turned into this constant push-pull of emotions that had her all jittery and uncertain?

  The day Johnny Cortez’s agent booked a trip, her world had turned upside down… and she didn’t know how to right it.

  By the time they broke out of the trees along a ridge overlooking a small bowl, the last of the rays had slipped behind the peaks. Still light enough to see, but dark enough to make the last short descent into the valley a little hairy. The snow-covered trail zigzagged down a steep shale hillside.