Country Love (A Billionaire BWWM Romance)

by Mia Caldwell

Dammit.

  I stood up and turned away from the stage just as they were finishing their last number. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the lead singer's face fall when he saw I wasn't watching him anymore, and suddenly I was irrationally angry. The need, the fucking unrelenting need, it felt like these people would rip me apart with their bare hands if they could, take all the pieces of me they could rip apart. I longed for peace, solitude, anything but the screaming fans who bayed for me to give, give, give.

  But I didn't belong to me anymore. I was theirs, all of theirs, running a treadmill I couldn't get off again. So I stomped my way onstage and smiled and waved and gave them the time of their lives because that's what I do. That's what they all needed me to do. I did it that night.

  And the next night.

  And the night after that....

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Monique

  "Hey Mo, catch!"

  By now I had been on the bus long enough to know better. I ducked out of the way just as the beer can whizzed past my eyeball and splattered against the far wall in a shower of foam.

  "That one's yours, Jimmy," Carter deadpanned.

  I giggled behind my hand, and took a quick shot of the exploded can.

  "Is that really something you want to preserve for posterity?" Tanner smiled as he slung his arm over my shoulder. I nuzzled up into him.

  "Yes, I'm a journalist," I told him, then turned and caught him with my flash. He smiled that smile of his and it occurred to me that I had never in my life been so happy. I took another quick shot, wanting to preserve the moment, just for me.

  We were rolling west now, on the road for a week. The hills flashed outside the tinted windows and I felt myself lulled by the miles as I snuggled back down into Tanner's arms. As long as I managed to push the time limit from my mind, I could bask in a contentment I hadn't known in years.

  As long as I ignored the fact that it could never be fully mine.

  Tanner's big palm was inching inexorably down my shoulder, making its slow way to my breasts. I suppressed a giggle and squeezed my eyes shut, feigning sleep against his chest.

  "Ah good, I can make my move," he whispered playfully, cupping my breast.

  "You think you need to wait 'til I'm sleeping to get your hands on me?" I muttered into his shirt, inhaling deeply. A week on the road and he still smelled incredible. It was like sunshine seeped from his every pore.

  "It's safest that way," he said and I could hear the smile in his voice. "You're less likely to bite me if you're sleeping."

  I turned my head quickly and nipped at his chest. He growled and heaved me onto his lap, me shrieking and pummeling him to no avail.

  "I'd say get a room, but we have at least seventy miles to go before that's possible," Carter complained from his bunk.

  "Ignore him," Tanner murmured against my throat.

  "I always do," I said flashing a grin at Carter.

  He raised a middle finger at me, shaking his head. "I don't know how you get away with it, Mo. The more shit you give me, the more I want you to like me."

  "That's 'cos she's magic," Tanner growled, rolling his hips under me. I could feel the whole length of him, pressing at me insistently through his jeans. I was on fire instantly, of course, but there was the small problem of our audience.

  "Seventy more miles?" I groaned, pressing into him.

  "Has to be only sixty-nine, by now," he sighed. His hands were at my waist, big and strong, fingers delving into my skin. If I was wearing I skirt, I could just hitch it up over my hips...but alas, I was an idiot and wore leggings instead.

  "Save that for me," I whispered in his ear, nipping at his lobe.

  He heaved a groan that would be heartbreaking if it weren't so funny. "Who the hell else would it be for?"

  "I dunno, you and Blake seem awfully close," I teased.

  He fell back against the seat. "Thanks, that just killed the mood quite well. Better than a cold shower, actually."

  "Ah...a shower, I remember those," I sighed, sliding off of him and settling back into the seat across the aisle. "I still can't believe that with all the money your label is pouring into this, they can't allot you more personal time."

  "Doesn't make them enough money that way," Tanner said, grim resignation setting in around his mouth. He reached into the compartment behind him and pulled out the battered acoustic he liked to noodle around with while he talked. I settled back to listen, impressed as always with the artistry in his fingers. I mean, I knew those fingers had some skills when it came to playing me, but guitar was definitely their first language. "Nah, I'm not really my own man any more. I'm a business. A corporation. All that freedom I sing about is kinda hypocritical when I think about it too much. I'm just as much a slave as any office drone, I'm just lyin' to them and to myself."

  He ducked his head and strummed, nodding as his fingers danced along the frets. I could tell he didn't want to talk anymore, but his words left a hollow place in my chest. Tanner Brock was born to be a rock star, could he really hate it this much?

  Without thinking, I reached for my camera. As Tanner turned his face down, the angle of the sun through the windows caught the glint of stubble on his jaw. I snapped a few pictures, then stood up, used to the rocking motion of the bus. I squatted down and shot him from below, heroically slung across his seat, his cowboy boots on display. He looked every inch the iconic freedom-loving cowboy.

  "Any time shit gets deep, you hide behind that thing, you know that?"

  I froze and looked up at him. He was peering at me out of the corners of his eyes while his hands still made beautiful soft music. There was no use lying. "Yeah, I do," I said, looking down at my camera.

  I expected him to chide me. Instead he nodded. "I hide behind this thing too," he nodded, strumming hard before setting it aside. "Makes a physical barrier between you and the world. But I don't want that with you. C'mere."

  Blinking rapidly to dissipate the tears that threatened to fall, I went to him, setting my camera aside. He kissed me, long and deep, not holding back anything. I kissed him back, too terrified of my feelings to do anything else.

  I was falling. Hard.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Monique

  Another show on the books. Things were settling into a groove now. A punishing, exhausting groove.

  "Who needs a beer?" Carter called the second he was on the bus.

  The rest of us raised our hands, me included. He handed them out one at a time as we entered the bus, like an usher taking tickets before a show.

  "Gotta tighten the middle of the set," Fitch grumbled as he leaned back in a seat. The bus rumbled to life and I rubbed my sandpapery eyes. I couldn't believe they had to get on the road again so soon.

  "I don't want to talk about the set," Tanner sighed. "Please. I just need to sleep." He crawled into his bunk and I hung back for a moment before deciding to head back to a seat to review the shots I had gotten that night.

  Tanner's arm shot out from the bunk, his hand gripping my thigh. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked in a voice muffled by his pillow.

  "You said you wanted to sleep..." I hedged.

  "You think I'm doing any sleepin' without you in my arms? I haven't seen you all day, c'mere..." he smiled sleepily and patted the bed next to him,

  I slid into the bunk and he curled up against me with a contented sigh. Then Tanner pushed his head under my arm, nuzzling into my chest. "I'm just going to stay here forever," he murmured against my breasts.

  I laughed and stroked his hair. Two weeks left with this man. I kissed the top of his head and he tilted his face up to mine, pressing his lips gently yet firmly against my mouth.

  "You wanna...close that curtain for me?" he growled, his fingers delving underneath my jeans.

  Every cell in my body was aware of him. And even though the rest of the band was only a few feet away, that didn't seem to matter. What mattered was the feel of his lips on mine, the rough scratch of day old stubble
against my cheek, the scorching heat of his hand tracing fiery lines down my body. I turned my head and moaned into the pillow, hoping no one could hear me over the noise of the bus.

  "Missed you," he murmured against my ear. He rolled on top of me, the mattress creaking underneath us. Embarrassment flamed inside of me, but desire burned hotter.

  "Need you," I whispered back, arching into him. The way his eyes flamed brightly when I said that was worth everything...the lack of privacy, the hectic schedule, I didn't care about any of it when he looked at me that way.

  He cupped his hand gently at the back of my neck, pulling me flush against him. I wrapped my legs around him and we moved together, the gentle rocking of the bus urging us onward.

  It could have been a dream. We moved sleepily, languidly, silently coming together in response to a need that couldn't be denied. I closed my eyes as he entered me, the silent slide of his skin against mine sending me into shuddering ecstasy almost immediately. The hot, tingling desire I had suffered with all the long day away from him found relief over and over again as we dissolved into each other.

  When at last I had had my fill, drunk with satisfaction, he rolled to the side and cradled my head in his arms. I snuggled up and breathed the scent of him, the smell of sunshine that seeped from his skin. His breathing was already soft and slow, and I smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Sleep well," I breathed, feeling my own slide into sleep dragging me inexorably down. Rocked by the bus's motions, I slept cradled in his arms all night, as safe as a baby.

  It was the lack of motion that woke me.

  The bus had stopped.

  Sunlight peeked through a crack in the curtain, drilling right into my eyeballs. Tanner's eyes were screwed tightly closed in rebellion against being awake. But a crash and a muffled curse from Jimmy let us know we couldn't stay in bed forever.

  "Good mornin'," he smiled, his eyes still closed.

  "Morning," I said, pressing my lips tightly together. I hadn't brushed my teeth the night before. "Where the hell are we?"

  Tanner chuckled. "Somewhere in the United States, I'd suspect."

  "You don't know?"

  "Nope." His eyes fluttered open. Those eyelashes were criminal. "I usually try to figure it out by the name of the venue. I'm getting pretty good at it."

  A sardonic chuckle escaped my lips before I could catch it. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me, tracing a finger along my jaw. 'You okay?"

  I shook my head. "Sorry. Deja vu?"

  He cocked his head. "I'm almost certain this has never happened before. I swear I would have remembered wakin' up next to a woman as beautiful as you." I smacked him in the arm and he grinned wider. "And as violent as you."

  "That's not what I meant. I was talking about the waking up after driving all night and not knowing where you are."

  His grin slammed shut. "Right. I remember you tellin' me your family moved a lot."

  I was surprised. "You remember that?"

  He bent down and kissed me sweetly. "I remember every single moment with you in the graveyard. The way the sun shone through the trees, the way you were acting all pissed so you wouldn't cry. How your eyes glittered when you told me 'no.' You're a shit liar, Monique."

  He drowned out my protests, kissing me harder. By the time he pulled away, I found I didn't feel like arguing with him anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Tanner

  Fitch was right, the middle of the set dragged. Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I called a rehearsal first thing in the morning.

  "It's fine," Monique said. She was perched on the edge of my bunk, wearing these short little shorts that made her legs look a mile long. "I need to run some errands...get some toothpaste." she grimaced, making me laugh, "and check in with Gil."

  "Gil?" I growled threateningly.

  She smacked me. I loved provoking this girl. Any excuse to have her touch me, I'd take. "Gil's my boss and he's Jabba the Hut in human form. You don't have to get all possessive, cowboy."

  I grabbed my hat from where it hung off my bunk and put it on my head expressly for the purpose of being able to tip it at her. "I don't take too kindly to other men steppin' in on my territory," I drawled.

  "I'm your territory now?" Monique said testily.

  "I think I've staked a pretty valid claim," I declared, sliding my hand between her legs. She squealed and smacked me again, squirming away. "Keep it warm for me, baby," I told her, kissing her again.

  I could feel her eyes following me as I stepped off the bus. When I turned back, she was watching intently, but when I smiled at her, she didn't smile back. Instead she looked thoughtful...and then sad.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Monique

  I was alone in a strange city, the only black face in a sea of lily-white.

  In other words, everything was completely normal.

  Loneliness should feel just as normal, but as I pulled my rental car into the pharmacy parking lot, a heaviness suffused my limbs. It felt like something was missing, something palpable and necessary, like a limb or possibly a portion of my heart.

  I grabbed my back off the passenger seat and pulled up Chanel's number on my phone.

  "Hey girl!" she sang out, office noise loud in the background. "I need to head to a meeting in a moment, but it's good to hear from you! How's the cowboy?"

  "Hey girl," I said more softly. "Good to hear your voice. Have I missed anything?"

  "Yeah, well," she lowered her voice slightly. "You probably want to know...I mean, I don't want to gossip and all, but Dayna's kind of pissed."

  "Yeah? Why's that?"

  Chanel snorted into the phone. "Seems like Dennis filled her ear with a few stories about you."

  Dennis, the name rang a bell. I squeezed my eyes shut and wracked my brain before I finally remembered. "Finance Guy?"

  "The date she set you up on?"

  "Oh god," I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. "I probably should have called her about that."

  "Yeah well..." Chanel let her words hang in the air for a minute. "Might be a good idea, that. Listen, you didn't hear it from me, okay? I gotta run babe. Have fun with the cowboy."

  She hung up before I could say goodbye.

  Well hell, now I felt even worse. Reluctantly, I dialed Dayna's number.

  "Oh hey," she answered icily. "I was wondering when I'd hear from you."

  I swallowed hard. "Yeah, I'm so sorry, I've only just got this moment away from working."

  "Mmmhmm." Dayna was in a coffee shop or a restaurant or something by the sound of it. Surrounded by people. Somehow that made me feel even lonelier. "So how did the date go?"

  I started to answer but my tongue tripped up over the nice little lie I was planning to spin and suddenly I could only speak the truth. "Dayna, I owe you an apology."

  She made a small noise of surprise. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

  I took a deep breath. "I should have been honest with you when you called me to confirm, but I was lying to myself, pretending I didn't feel how I felt. I should have called you and told you to cancel the date, but instead I went through with it and treated your friend badly and I'm sorry."

  Dayna made several strange little squeaking sounds. I could tell this was the last thing she expected me to say. In fact, judging from my own shocked face staring back at me in the rearview mirror, I hadn't expected myself to say them either.

  "I'm interested in someone else," I heard myself say. "And it wasn't fair for me to go out with Dennis when I feel this way."

  Dayna let out a squeal and I instantly knew I was off the hook. "Interested in someone else?" she squeaked. I could practically hear her fluttering her eyelashes. "Oh my gosh, spill it, right now. Who's the lucky guy?"

  Words bubbled up in my throat, demanding to be spoken out loud. This was dumb and foolish to even be admitting I felt this way, but the loneliness forced my hands. "Dayna, the cowboy and I...."

  Dayna's voice la
unched itself into the stratosphere. I held the phone away from my ear as she shrieked and cackled like a madwoman. When I felt safe enough to hold the phone back up to my head, she was mid-sentence..."hottest guy I ever saw, those pictures you took of him, holy Christ you can see the sex in his eyes. How is he in bed? I bet he is completely amazing...."

  "Wait, back up, the pictures I took of him?"

  She humphed. "For the magazine? I could tell you know. As soon as I saw them, I figured out why Dennis said you were a crazy bitch...."