Hell Yeah!: Man of My Heart (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The Omega Team Book 5)

by Desiree Holt

  State–of-the-art, for sure. Caleb couldn’t have chosen better himself, and he relaxed a little. A very little.

  They ran through the first song just to get the feel for it. Then Greg, who Hitch referred to as the senior engineer, began working with them on laying down tracks. As he listened, all Caleb could think of was that word, magic, again. Jasmine Grey did have star quality. When she sang, she owned the song. Fast or slow, funny or romantic, the song was all hers, and he’d swear everyone would think she sang just for them.

  Hitch looked over at Caleb when they were getting ready to do the third song. “I bet Greg fifty bucks we wouldn’t need the whole two weeks to do this album. I can feel that money coming my way right now.”

  “She’s sure damn good,” Caleb agreed.

  “Have you known her long? Carson just told us she had someone along because of the nasty episode with that piece of garbage Cobra Mattice.”

  “She’s related to a friend of mine.” He glanced into the studio, and Hitch got the hint he didn’t want to discuss the topic. What was between Jasmine and him was their business. People seeing them might guess it was more than a professional relationship, but they’d agreed to keep it on the downlow as much as possible. He excelled at a game face and figured she did, too.

  The album would have ten songs in all, and, to everyone’s delight, they got three of them laid down that night. The drums would stay locked up in the studio, but everyone else took their guitars with them. They had just finished gathering their things when the faint sound of an alarm reached them.

  “That’s someone’s car alarm.” Caleb took off at a run for the parking lot. “Stay back,” he called to Jasmine.

  “Leroy, stay there and keep an eye on things,” Hitch hollered as he and Greg followed everyone outside.

  The horn on Caleb’s truck blared and the lights flashed. The windshield and front door windows had been smashed and glass lay everywhere.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Caleb ordered. “I’m calling the police. Just stay back.”

  Carson had given the Austin PD a heads-up on the situation. They were only too glad to be on the alert when he told them the situation.

  “Caleb?”

  He disconnected the call and looked over at Jasmine, holding her guitar case and staring at the truck with shock on her face.

  “Cops are on their way,” he told everyone as he reached for Jas’s guitar case and pulled her in against him. “Everyone check your vehicles and make sure you didn’t get keyed or anything.”

  “It’s that fucking bastard Mattice.” Hitch ground out the words. “He’ll have to go to Iceland to get a job when we get through passing the word. Bring Jasmine inside, Caleb. I’ll flip on the single-serving coffeemaker. She looks like she could use something hot.”

  “I c-can’t believe this,” Jasmine stammered as Caleb eased her down on a couch. “What is his problem?”

  “His problem is he’s fixated on you. Too bad no one picked up on it before.”

  “He was a bit of a pest,” she told him, “but until that last night, I just thought he was annoying. I’d already decided we had to replace him.”

  “That probably pushed all his buttons. Okay, I’m calling Carson. He needs to know. And we need to add more security.”

  It was a long night. The police arrived within minutes. Caleb was surprised Captain James Handler was with them on a callout like this, until he remembered Carson had set it up with them that something might happen. By the time they’d taken everyone’s statement, arranged for Caleb’s truck to be towed back to command, and assigned guards for the next few nights, Caleb was anxious to get Jasmine out of there. She looked like she’d used up her last reserve of strength. Handler gave them a ride to their hotel where Caleb found a message from Carson that a rental would be waiting for him in the morning and he’d take care of the truck repairs.

  When they fell into bed, Jasmine molded to him like a limp noodle. He could feel the fine tremors still racing through her body and knew she held herself together with sheer grit. That was no way to go into a recording studio.

  “Jasmine.” He kissed the top of her head and stroked her arm as he cradled her body against him.

  “Mmhmm.”

  “We’re gonna make this right, darlin’. You just concentrate on what needs doing.” When she opened her mouth to say something, he added, “Unless you finish this album the way you started, he’ll have won. We don’t want that, right?”

  “Right,” she answered him in very small voice.

  “I know how strong you are. This tour is going to really to do it for you, so let’s not let him ruin it. You sing. I’ll take care of everything else.”

  “Okay.” She let out a long sigh and snuggled tighter against him. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

  Damn straight. And if this asshole destroys things for you, they’ll need an army to find what’s left of him.

  Chapter Seven

  The album was finished and everyone had given it their blessing. Jasmine refused to allow that asshole Cobra to ruin this session, the album, or the tour. The songs really cooked, the band performed at its best even with a new addition, and everyone rode so high on the possibilities the air around them vibrated.

  The night they finished, Carson took them all out to dinner. The sound system and all the equipment except the guitars would be stored in a secure facility with three armed guards. No one was taking any chances.

  “I won’t let him kill this,” Jasmine said again at the table.

  “He turned out to be quite a snake,” Hondo remarked. “Remember when he tried to use that as his nickname?”

  Tony smacked his forehead. “We should have gotten a clue.”

  Carson looked around the table at everyone. “I put the word out on him. For one thing, it will help to have a lot of eyes out there if he does try to show up. For another, he’s done in the industry. All that’s left is to bury the body.”

  “You all set for the trip, Jas?” Hondo asked.

  “I am. And looking forward to it.”

  Gary Lockwood and two of the roadies joined them at dinner after stashing the equipment.

  “Gary’s your man,” Carson told Caleb, “whatever you need. You take care of Jasmine, he takes care of everything else.”

  “And my guys are here to help with whatever.”

  Both men nodded.

  Caleb liked the road manager. He got no disturbing vibes from him, and he considered himself pretty good at reading people. And, he liked having another person to help him watch for trouble.

  They had a week before they left. The label was rushing the album out, merchandise had gone into production, and Carson had set up some interviews for her both in Austin and San Antonio. She was glad Caleb would be glued to her side during that time.

  “Remember, you’ve got three dates by yourself, then three opening for Sweet Dixie again, three more by yourself, and you close with Sweet Dixie at the Austin Energy Amphitheatre.”

  Jasmine stared at him. “For real?”

  Carson chuckled. “Yes, for real.”

  “That place holds sixteen thousand people, Carson. Don’t you think you’re being a little optimistic?”

  Carson took a swallow of water, dried his lips, and took her hand. “Jas, my, love. I have every confidence, between you and Sweet Dixie, there won’t be a seat left. Your album will be out for six weeks by then and so will theirs. We timed it. So polish up your licks and get ready for the big time, sugar. This is it!”

  “What if I fall on my face?” she asked Caleb as they drove home that night, her precious guitar safely tucked in the backseat. His truck was fixed good as new, and they’d get it tuned up before they hit the road. The band would travel by bus, but she and Caleb would drive together.

  “That’s not going to happen,” he promised. “I believe in you, Jas.” He paused for so long, she looked over at him.

  “Caleb?”

  “I was never much into music,” he
told her, “until I heard yours. You’ve got it, whatever it is. It’s all good.”

  They made slow, delicious love that night. He paid careful attention to every inch of her body, every sigh, every moan, until she was sure she’d reached her allotment of orgasms. But she had to admit it was better medicine than pills or alcohol. And everything he did showed her just how much he loved her. That would get her through almost anything.

  Caleb ferried her to the publicity appointments, scouring the area each time before he parked and never leaving her side. Carson was ecstatic with the interviews as each of them went public. Then the record label released what they’d targeted to be the hit song from the CD, and everything exploded.

  “Ticket sales are through the roof,” he crowed when he Face Timed with Jasmine and Caleb. “Downloads from iTunes are out of sight, and we’re already getting calls to see if we can squeeze in a few more interviews on the road.”

  “I know this is money,” Caleb said, “but until we’ve got Cobra safely put away, I’d recommend against adding anything to the schedule.”

  “Let me see what I can juggle around,” the manager told them. “Maybe I can set things up to have them in one place, like at the hotel. We’ll set aside one room for this. That way you control everyone in and out and there’s no driving around.”

  “I’d appreciate it,” Caleb said. “I just don’t know what to expect here.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Jasmine kept pinching herself.

  “I never expected this,” she told Caleb over and over.

  “Jas, you were doing great before. I, uh, googled you after I took the job.”

  Her eyes widened. “And you never told me?”

  He shrugged. “Just doing background. No biggie.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m very impressed.”

  She giggled. “Just with my music?”

  Heat flared in his eyes. “I think with one or two other things, maybe.”

  With the passing of each day, Caleb seemed to open up to her more and more. He hardly seemed like the same cold, controlled man who had come to her house that day weeks ago. And things between them just kept getting better. In her spare time, she worked on her little secret. She hoped Caleb would love her gift to him.

  “We hit the road tomorrow,” he reminded her. “You all set?”

  She nodded. “More than. Let’s go to bed and celebrate.”

  He laughed. “I think I’ve created a sex maniac.”

  “Only with you.” She brushed her lips over his. “Only with you.”

  *****

  Caleb had one word to describe the tour—insanity. Jasmine’s new celebrity had crowds swarming wherever they went. Damn good thing Carson had reached out to the police departments in each city, gotten a contact, and set it up to hire off-duty cops as needed. The band was practically wetting itself, they were so over the top about it. And maybe because of that, and because Jasmine was the key, they had appointed themselves her extra protection. Wherever she went, they went, even if they did nothing else but take orders from Caleb.

  They had hit their second stop when the first sign of trouble showed its head.

  “Sorry to bother you this early, but the bus is fucked.” It was six in the morning, they were due to leave at ten, and Gary was on the phone with Caleb. “The driver’s losing his shit.”

  “What’s the problem?” Lucky his training had taught him to come alert in seconds.

  “It’s the engine. Someone put sugar in the gas tank, and it gummed up the engine.”

  Shit!

  “Okay, okay. Let me think.” He rubbed his forehead. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll call you back.”

  Carson wasn’t any happier about the wakeup call than Caleb, but he got on the horn and did magic tricks, getting a new bus there within an hour. Lockwood was satisfied and went to supervise the movement of the equipment,

  “I’ll kill that asshole when I get my hands on him,” he told Jasmine.

  “How does he do stuff and no one sees him?”

  “No one would freaking see someone fiddling with the bus in the motel lot. They’d think it was one of us.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “From now on, we’ll have a guard on duty at night.”

  “I don’t understand why he’s so obsessed with me.” She frowned. “There are a million other women out there he could hit on.”

  “Who can tell what fuels one person’s obsession” He took her hands and kissed each of them. “I just know we’re going to bust our nuts making sure he doesn’t harm you.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Now, let’s get the band and roll. I want to get out of here before we stop for breakfast.”

  He was proud of Jasmine for holding it together and not freaking out. She sat calmly, holding his hand under the breakfast table, telling everyone it would be all right.”

  The third show was another huge success, but marred by yet another incident. Tony Baez kept an acoustic guitar in the dressing room at each show. He played with it a little before they got ready for the night. Said it was his first guitar before he went electric, and it had special meaning for him. When they entered the dressing room after sound check to wait for food to be delivered, the guitar lay on the floor in pieces. They all stared at it in shock.

  Caleb feared Tony would lose his shit altogether.

  “I’ve had that guitar for twenty years,” he said again and again.

  Jasmine, standing beside him, shook, but she managed to pull herself together.

  “He was in here.” She looked at Caleb. “How did he get into our dressing room? How the hell did he get backstage?”

  “You go take care of Tony with Lockwood and think about tonight. I’m doing some investigating.”

  “Tony loved that guitar,” Jasmine said in a stunned voice. “He’s going to get to me by hurting my guys. Ruining the tour if he can.”

  “That’s not happening. Let me see what I can find out.” What he learned gave him heartburn and made him want to kick some serious ass.

  “One of the kids hired to help backstage sold his pass for two hundred bucks.” He related the information to Gary Lockwood who was already rigid with anger.

  “Let me get with the resident manager here, the people who run the venue. You want to see ass kicked? Stay tuned.”

  By the time he finished, the kid who’d thought he was making a fast buck was out on his ear and his name placed on a list of people never to be hired. Caleb had met the off-duty cops working security here and taken one of them to keep watch on the dressing room.

  “No groupies tonight, guys,” he told the band. “Sorry. Just you guys, Jasmine, Gary, and me.”

  “I’ll handle the groupies and anyone looking for face time with Jas,” Gary assured him.

  Caleb was so proud of Jasmine that night, he thought his chest would burst. She put on a show that had the audience on its feet again and again. She took three encores before giving the audience a wave and leaving the stage for the final time.

  “You’re sure he’s not still around?” she asked Caleb as she sat in the dressing room, trying to catch her breath.

  “Not at all. The cops are going to hang out until Gary gets all the equipment loaded. I’ve got guards for the bus tonight, and the guys are taking a cab back to the hotel. From now on, someone will have eyes on everything.”

  “Okay, good.” She gave him a tired smile. “I think I’m ready for bed.”

  He didn’t doubt it. He had no idea how she managed to hold up under all of this.

  He called Carson to tell him what he wanted to do, and when the manager agreed, he called Grey Holden at The Omega Team offices and got two private guards assigned to them to keep control of things.

  If he’d thought the first three shows were wild, when they hit the first one with Sweet Dixie, he realized he had a lot to learn. The facility was three times the size of the previous ones, and Sweet Dixie had a huge following. On top of that, Jasmine’s single, “Stay with Me,” was rocketing up the charts.
Carson called to give them the numbers, ecstatic.

  “We’re sold out on all stops now,” he told Caleb. “She’s just doing it.” Then his voice dropped. “I’m texting you the name of my contact with the local police. I already let them know we’d need extra security, so they’re ready for you.”

  “I hate this,” Caleb told him. “For her.”

  “I’m with you. If I’d had any idea Cobra would go off the rails like this, I’d never have hired him.”

  “I believe you. But now we have to do whatever we can to keep everyone and everything safe.”

  “Gotcha. I’m on it.”

  Caleb had never been one for concerts, even as a kid, so the magnitude of the night’s event stunned him. People clogged the parking lot, trying to score tickets, and the venue staff selling merchandise for the two performers ran out. Backstage, the two sets of roadies worked like well-oiled machines, getting their performers on and off stage and keeping the show flowing. Sweet Dixie, who greeted Jasmine like a long lost sister, insisted she do the last number with them again, and fifteen thousand fans screamed their lungs out.

  The next two shows were just as wild, especially since the band also had Jasmine sing one of their songs with them. Gary Lockwood told him most acts like Sweet Dixie wanted the spotlight all to themselves. The opening act was just something to give them time to get their shit together for the night. But they had developed an affection for Jasmine on the last tour.

  “That’s like gold in the vault,” Gary assured him. “She’s gonna be ready to headline her own major tour before long.”

  Caleb got a stomachache thinking about the logistics of something like that.

  All the interviews now had to be tightly controlled, too. Caleb arranged for a room at whatever hotel or motel they stayed at, off by itself and with a guard at the door to keep strangers out. He was damn glad when they got to the smaller venues. Less stress on Jasmine, better control for him.

  His leg gave him fits, too. He popped acetaminophen like candy and took long, hot showers every night, trying to keep anyone from noticing. Anyone but Jas, who saw everything. Tired and spent from the show, she still insisted on massaging the aching limb each night. He had to admit she had talented hands and thanked every fate in the world for getting them together.