She spent a few long moments watching him, the open way he looked back, the depth of his brown eyes, and the fucking honesty there.
Dom asked the question she didn’t want to. “So, what’s your advice?”
David didn’t look at Dom when he spoke. “I know that the stops are part of your social media. Ending them would give the stalker what he wants—a change in behavior, specifically Mish’s.”
“Fuck that,” she said.
He nodded, and refocused on the rest of the band. “Keep your stops, but if you don’t mind, I’ll tag along. And you should be more aware of the people around you in general. There’s always the possibility one of you—” he waved at the guys “—might pick up an obsessive fan. Anyone can figure out likely routes for your buses between cities, so it’s just good practice.”
That last bit—Mish hadn’t even thought of that. David was right, though. People knew the tour schedule, knew where they’d be and when. Probably even knew the names of the hotels where they were going to stay.
Everything in her spine tightened and she forced herself to roll her shoulders. “I guess this is the price we pay for fame.”
Adrian twisted his face. “It’s not been that bad.”
“Honey, you ain’t a women.” Though the fans were pretty good to her. Still, she did get more men coming up and making some awful sexual suggestions than Ray or Domino ever did, even when they’d been single.
Then again, with Domino, guys tended to think he was some ultra-dominant top when he was pretty much the exact opposite. Before Ray’d gotten together with Zavier, he’d picked up guys, but they hadn’t been the stars they were now. She’d never fished outside the crew for that reason. They knew they didn’t own her. Lovers from the outside? Too many wanted control.
David patted her knee. “We’ll figure out who this guy is.”
Would that be the end of it? The thought of this being her professional existence grated hard. She didn’t know what to say in return—though she did enjoy the warmth of David’s hand through her jeans.
She patted that same hand, now safely back on his thigh, in return. “Thanks.”
The driver stepped up onto the bus. “We’re going to get moving soon, folks.”
“I guess I should head back to the crew bus.” David made to rise.
There was that pang of sadness in her that he wasn’t around as much. Fucking annoying that the one person she wanted a little more time with was the one person she didn’t want to be here because of the damn situation.
David Altet was a fine man. But requiring his presence was hell.
Ray shrugged. “You can ride with us for a while. We should discuss tomorrow anyway.”
This time, she bumped him with his shoulder. “Stick around, honey. You’ll get to see more of the Dom and Zavier show.”
David’s grin was infectious and made her body heat with the need to find out what those lips and that beard felt like against her skin. “Darling, I’ll never pass up that opportunity.
Zavier, damn his quiet observant ways, chuckled. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to—she was pretty sure they all knew what was going on.
She knew her bandmates’ tacit approval when it was there, damn the lot of them.
Best people in the world.
* * *
The largest security headache for David so far was the whole VIP encounter process. Great for the fans—an intimate question-and-answer session, and then individual photos with the band. Some of the fans even got to watch the band perform from the side of the stage. Awesome packages. Great experiences. Good revenue for the band.
But what a pain in the ass to coordinate. Intimate meant fans got to stand with the band, be right there. All it took was one person to cause an issue.
“We’re pretty careful about how the fans interact,” Adrian had said when David had sat down with him and Marcella before the tour.
She’d nodded. “We’ve never had any issues at the encounters. The fans love them, and it’s one of the biggest draws next to the signings afterward.”
But it was gonna be a fucking nightmare to keep the band and Mish safe. That set David’s teeth on edge. Yes, the encounters cost a pretty penny—he’d looked up the prices online—but that wasn’t a deterrent to an obsessive fuckwad like the guy who kept sending emails to Mish.
There’d been one before the tour that contained a photo of that bar he and Mish had talked in and a comment that ladies didn’t drink beer. That had set every bit of David on edge.
It had unsettled Mish, too. “I guess it’s good you followed me home.”
Yes, and no. Why hadn’t he seen the fucker? It rankled and worried him. Exposure meant less protection, but Twisted Wishes was known for interacting with fans. Guy didn’t feel like a fan, though. That soothed and bothered David.
The morning of the first concert, Adrian had texted him from the band’s bus, and they’d met outside to go for a run together—Adrian was apparently a gym rat with a fairly extensive training schedule, and runs were part of that. After they’d circled the parking lot enough times to exhaust them both, they’d sat at a picnic table away from the buses, and Adrian had slid his tablet over to David. “This came in this morning.”
Another email. Short and to the point.
Only whores wear skirts that short. A girl like you should know better.
These emails were getting more and more personal, as if this guy thought he knew Mish. A boiling, rolling wave of disgust swept through David, and he shoved the tablet back at Adrian.
Adrian flipped the cover over to turn the damn thing off. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”
No, he didn’t. Not the way David did, and undoubtedly not the way Mish did. Fuck, he still remembered some of the shit that had been said to him about the way he’d dressed. Looked. Cut his hair.
David took a deep breath and took in the huge, empty parking lot. “Different IP address again?”
“Of course.” Adrian sounded as disgusted. “Easy to open a burner email account. Use a proxy server. Whatever.”
They were never going to find the asshole electronically. David doubted the jerk was ready to show his face, even with the ample opportunity this concert provided. If he wasn’t a fan, what was the connection?
“Mish is right. This is unfair.” He spoke more to himself than Adrian.
Still, Adrian nodded. “It is.” With that, he rose from the table and picked up his tablet. “I gotta go schedule some posts and tweets, and prod Dominic out of his pre-coffee stupor. You gonna tell Mish?”
“I’m gonna ask Mish if she wants to know.” David wasn’t about to throw this at her now, right before the opening concert on their biggest tour.
Adrian smiled, though it was somber. “You’re a good man, David.”
David watched as Adrian headed into the band bus to wake his lover. Those kinds of compliments, the gendered ones—he’d never quite gotten used to them, even as much as hearing them helped.
He liked Adrian. Enjoyed all of the people that made up Twisted Wishes. He might not play in the band, but it didn’t take long to realize Adrian was a big part of it, too.
He should go talk to Mish, but between the run and the sudden burst of anger, he needed a moment to sit in the early morning sun and cool breeze, listen to the birds chatter, and just exist. He cherished the tiny moments of peace whenever he could find them—whether in the hustle of New York, in the horror that had been deployment, or right now, in a parking lot at an amphitheater outside of Atlantic City.
A shuffle of gravel drew his attention back over to the tour buses. Mish had stepped out into the morning, and his breath caught in his throat. The sun burnished her hair to shining copper, and she wore a white tank top and denim shorts that rode low on her hips. She had two mugs of coffee, one in each hand.
She really was a goddess.
A queen. Awe, respect, and desire all tangled in David, leaving him shifting on the picnic table bench. With arms and legs toned and muscular, she could kick most people’s asses. He wanted to do everything in his power to protect her anyway. Was that right or wrong? He didn’t know.
She handed him one of the coffees in an official Twisted Wishes mug. Steam curled off the top, and he imagined that might be the way heat curled off his body. Maybe she knew how much she’d affected him, because once he’d taken the mug, she tucked some stray curls behind her ear—a gesture he now recognized as a nervous tic—and there was a hint of color high on her cheeks. Or maybe that was just the way the sun touched her face.
Didn’t matter. David looked down into his coffee. “Thanks.”
“Adrian said you were out here.” She took a seat across the table from him. “Maybe coffee isn’t the best thing after a run, but...”
He met her gaze, and her eyes were green in the soft sunlight. “I had a ton of water before and during the run, so this is perfect.” He took a sip, and it made the day even brighter. “How the heck do you get good coffee out of a tour bus?”
She laughed. “From Adrian. Zavier used to make the coffee, and it was decent, but one of the things Adrian managed to outdo Zav on was the coffee. I’m not sure if it’s the beans he uses or if he’s part coffee-whisperer, but...” She gestured to the mugs.
“He fits in with all of you.”
“Wasn’t a surprise. Any guy Dominic fell for was going be someone we all loved.”
“Like a family.” He didn’t expect the pang of pain that stabbed at his heart. He missed those kinds of connections. Had them in the military for a while. Had them with a few former girlfriends, but over the years of becoming himself, many of those relationships had changed or slipped away. Jobs like this one had him on the road a lot, even with a home in New York. He liked the solitary life, but he still missed what he couldn’t have anymore. Not in the long run.
Wasn’t his nature.
His silence must have said more than words, because Mish reached across the table and laid her hand on top of his. “Honey, before this crew, I was alone. I know how it goes.”
“Thanks.” He took another sip of coffee and turned the palm of his free hand to catch hers and give it a squeeze. “Don’t mind me being a grumpy old man.”
“You’re hardly grumpy. Or old.” She left her hand in his.
The way his heart thumped in his chest had nothing to do with the coffee or the run. “I’m an old soldier trying to make the world a little better best way I can.”
“But aren’t we all, in our own ways?” She rubbed her thumb over the palm of his hand. Sparks of awareness shivered down to his dick, but also up to the back of his head. Not all was lust. Been easier if it were.
“Maybe.” He moved his fingers against hers. “I do envy your little family. It’s clear how much you care about each other.”
“It’s hard won.” Mish ran a finger of her other hand around the edge of her mug. “We lost Kevin along the way. He’s in a better space and doing things he loves, but still.” Her shoulders dropped. “We nearly lost Ray permanently. Puts things in perspective.”
Yeah, that would.
“We do tend to pick up strays.” She smiled before drinking more coffee.
“Am I a stray?” Was he considered part of this group after a little more than two weeks? God, these people were unreal.
“You’re a man who cares, David.”
Despite the coffee, his throat felt tight. “You have to care to protect, if you’re doing it properly.” But not too much. Not get involved emotionally. He’d already blown way past that point, sitting here holding Mish’s hand. Given the jumble of emotions, this might as well be high school, and him sitting with Tricia at lunch, secretly holding hands under the table.
Except their hands were out in the open, and no one would beat him up later. Reluctantly, he slipped his fingers from Mish’s.
“I do care about the band, about you.” Especially about Mish. “I don’t want to hide things from you. You’ve already had that happen with your bandmates trying to protect you.” He waved at the bus. “But I gotta know when you want me to tell you things. Right before the show doesn’t seem the best time.”
She wrapped both hands around her mug and made a face. “Tomorrow. Whatever it is, tell me tomorrow. I can’t have that shit in my head tonight.” She sounded apologetic. “That might seem selfish...”
“Fuck no, Mish, it isn’t selfish! You need to be on your game, especially for the first show.”
“Thank you.” Her smile was everything.
He couldn’t keep from grinning back. “With all those stellar practices, you’re going to do great, rock queen.”
She rose and navigated to his side of the table, mug in hand, and bent down to kiss him on the cheek. “Keep that up, honey, and I’m gonna expect you to worship at my feet.”
Oh fuck, that more than the chaste peck made him squirm. This woman? Hell yeah, he’d worship her. David craned his neck to meet her grin with one of his own. “You saying you don’t deserve worship?”
She laughed. “I’ll see you around, David.”
Man, everything about that woman left him in a daze, from her kiss to the way she moved as she headed back to the tour bus.
Yeah, that whole professional line was crossed long ago. Still, he had a job to do.
He took his coffee and headed back to his crew bus to catch a quick shower and get ready for the rest of the day. The roadies and the engineers didn’t quite know what to make of him, though he had joined in on their poker game last night.
The bus was empty except for one of the younger crew members, Faith, zipping up her duffel. God, they all seemed young to him. He guessed the rest of the crew was at work unloading and setting up equipment.
She eyed his mug. “You getting coffee from the band?”
He shrugged. “Mish brought me a cup.”
She pulled her long, dark braids into a ponytail. “Oh, just like that, huh?” There was a hint of teasing in her voice.
A touch of heat rose to his face. “It’s not what you think.”
“Mmmhmm.” She leaned up against the berths near his. “I’ve been on these tours before, and let me tell you, Mish is a hell of a woman.”
“Believe me, I’ve figured that out.”
“She also knows exactly what she wants. She doesn’t bring coffee out to just anyone.”
Oh. Fuck. He blew out a breath and made a calculated decision. “Do you know why I’m here?”
Faith straightened up. “Ray said you were security.”
He nodded. “There’s been some pretty creepy messages coming in.”
He saw when Faith connected the dots. “Oh fucking hell,” she murmured. “That asshole from the pop-up show wasn’t the only one?”
He shook his head. “I’m watching after her.” His turn to lean against the berths. “But she sure as shit can take care of herself, too.”
“That’s a damn needle you’ll be threading.” She crossed her arms. “We’ll keep our eyes open, you know. Most of us did the last tour with them, and there ain’t a better band in the business.”
“Appreciate it.” He hefted his shower bag and grabbed a pair of jeans. “I should go get my ass clean.” He headed back toward the shower.
“Hey, David,” Faith called.
He turned back. “Yeah?”
“Doesn’t mean Mish doesn’t know what she wants.” She grinned at him. “I hear she’s a hell of a fun time.”
He coughed a laugh. “I guess I’ll see, huh?”
When he got to the bathroom, he locked the door, then rested his head against it. He hadn’t been imagining Mish flirting with him. Well, shit. Now he had to figure out what the fuck he was going to do about that.
Nothing. Do nothing. Davi
d stripped off his clothes and hopped into the tiny shower. Easy enough to get clean with minimal use of water. He’d done that before, on tours of duty. All the while, his mind slid around Mish and he ignored the heat in his dick.
Yes, he wanted her. No, he shouldn’t. Even beyond the sexual attraction, he liked Mish. Wanted to know more about her. Maybe knowing more would help him figure out who the fuck was stalking her. Not a fan. Too personal.
More and more, he suspected someone from her past.
Chapter Six
A couple of hours later, and the quiet of David’s morning had vanished. Orchestrated chaos rolled around the venue. There were techs and roadies and equipment everywhere. Their staff, the opening band Two Times Strong’s people, and folks from the venue moved around, on stage, in front of, and behind it. It took all of David’s concentration to remain vigilant for any weirdness.
Especially since weird was the normal state of existence for most of these people. Security for the venue lurked everywhere, but fuck if David trusted them to keep Twisted Wishes safe. Two Times Strong had staff that acted as bouncers, which was good, since a couple of the venue people looked decidedly uncomfortable with the whole queer vibe that permeated both bands and their crews. Lots of the bands’ staff bucked gender norms and were obviously and openly not at all straight.
The amphitheater was perfect for big summer tours, but behind the stage was a labyrinth of buildings, rooms, and trucks. Everything had to be orchestrated so fucking carefully. Of course, being the height of summer meant that even though it was before noon, the weather was already hot and sticky.
At least there was enough water to go around to keep them all hydrated. In fact, David needed to do something about all the water he’d been drinking. He took in the stage again, but everything looked fine. Twisted Wishes themselves weren’t out yet—they had an interview with a local radio station, some meetings with the press, and some business Marcella needed to discuss with them before sound check. They were watched over. Perfect time to head toward the restrooms.
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