Hillbilly Rockstar by Lorelei James Read Free Book Online

her. If she ain’t here in ten minutes . . . we’re still leaving.”
    â€œNope. Sorry. I got my orders, Dev. We’re waiting on her.”
    â€œGoddammit. This is so fucking stupid. I don’t need—”
    As he spoke, two arms circled his waist and he jerked away violently.
    Yeah, maybe he was a little on edge.
    He whirled around and saw the shocked face of his string player and songwriting partner, Odette.
    â€œGeez, Devin, jumpy much?”
    â€œSorry, darlin’.” He hugged her. “You all set?”
    â€œYes. Thanks for scoring us a new bus too. It’s sweet. Steve and I will be breaking in that king-sized bed very soon.”
    â€œTMI, little O. And if you tell me that my drummer’s got the rightrhythm, I will put you two lovebirds in a single bunk and rotate Tay, Gage, Leon, and Jase into the bedroom.”
    She whapped him on the chest. “That’s just plain mean. Sounds like someone needs to get laid.”
    â€œYou have no idea.” Although he had groupies lined up for him before and after shows, in the past eighteen months, after all this shit started going down, he hadn’t fucked any of the women he’d invited into his ready room. He’d kept sexual contact to blow jobs and hand jobs. If those women lied and bragged he’d banged them, well, he didn’t give a damn. He couldn’t go back and change the manwhore reputation he’d built over the years—most of which had been exaggerated anyway.
    A jacked-up Ford truck screeched into the parking lot and the driver slammed on the brakes. A scrawny, bearded guy leaped out of the cab and climbed onto the back bumper, lifting suitcases out of the truck bed and tossing them to the ground.
    Just then Tay came around the back end of the truck, yelling obscenities at the man.
    â€œYou have got to be fucking kiddin’ me,” Devin said. “Is Tay an asshole magnet?”
    â€œYep. This dude followed her to Denver from Kansas City. They were going at it like rabbits. We were in the room next to theirs,” Odette said.
    Then Tay took a swing at him with her laptop bag.
    The guy ducked, jumped back into the truck and sped off, tires spitting gravel.
    â€œLooks like another breakup to me,” Crash muttered. “Can’t wait for her and Jase to start fucking and fighting again . . .
Not
.”
    Jase, the laid-back lead guitar player, and Tay, his keyboard player and backup singer, had an on-again off-again relationship. Their fights—and subsequent makeups—were loud, obnoxious and the main reason after Odette . . . Devin never got involved with a woman he worked with.
    â€œIs Jase here?” he asked, watching Tay head toward the band’s bus, Odette hot on her heels.
    â€œHe left with the equipment truck,” Gage said behind him.
    â€œWise choice.”
    â€œA hundred bucks says they’re back together by Friday,” Leon, his steel guitar player, said.
    â€œWhose turn is it to run the pool?” Steve asked.
    â€œGage did it last time,” Crash said. “I reckon it’s Devin’s turn.”
    â€œGet your bets and money to me by showtime.”
    â€œWho’re we waiting for?” Gage asked.
    Just then a gorgeous baby blue Mustang pulled up. The driver’s-side door opened, and a pair of boots hit the concrete. He saw only a flip of the woman’s hair and her jeans-clad backside—and sweet baby Jesus, what a sweet backside it was—before she was hidden, rooting around in the open trunk.
    Even as his suspicions surfaced, his head was telling him
no
, that couldn’t possibly be her.
    The trunk shut, and she started toward him. Wind tousling her shoulder-length auburn hair, her hips swaying in jeans that hugged her every curve. With a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and another one clutched in her other hand, she flexed her well-defined arm muscles. Her cherry red lips