“You don’t have to,” I protest. “Triple A is on the way…” Who am I kidding? Rescuing me is Rooster’s thing. It’s how our relationship started. Reuniting this way almost feels like destiny.
Besides, I need to move my ass.
“You could be here all afternoon, waitin’ on them,” he points out.
“I do have to get to soundcheck.”
“Let’s go.” He gestures toward his bike and my feet automatically move in that direction.
“Wait, Shelby, what are you doing?” Trent calls out. “You can’t leave.”
Rooster growls so low, I’m not even sure he did it on purpose. More like an instinctual stay-away-from-my-woman noise. While the sound probably didn’t carry, the deep scowl and scary gaze Rooster shoots at Trent can’t be missed.
Trent holds up his hands and backs away.
I better defuse this fast.
Chapter Three
Rooster
Shelby’s band can’t stop staring at us with their totally freaked out eyes and open mouths. But it’s one of the guys I recognize from the show I caught in San Antonio—Brent, Bret. I can’t remember—who’s five seconds from having a size-thirteen boot up his ass. I didn’t like the way he looked at Shelby then, and I don’t care for it now.
“Shelby, are you sure this is a good idea?” He tosses me a cool look.
Other than trying to stare a hole through his face, I don’t react.
Shelby sighs. “I can’t show up late, Trent.”
Trent. Whatever. Close enough.
Shelby tips her head back, shines her sunshine smile at me and adds, “Besides, Rooster and I have lots of catching up to do.”
It’s her sweet face, not Trent’s horrified expression and gaping jaw, that lures me to bend down and press a quick kiss against her cheek. “Yeah, we do,” I say against her ear.
Heidi jogs over to the club’s van and pulls out a backpack, rifling through it and returning with a dark blue hoodie that she hands Shelby. “I don’t have an extra leather jacket but take this.”
“Thanks.” Shelby slips it on and gives Heidi a quick hug.
My gaze slides over the sweatshirt, admiring the way our Lost Kings MC skull and crown logo lands perfectly over Shelby’s ample chest. Damn, she wears my club’s colors well.
“Ready?” I hand her the extra helmet I brought because I planned to take her to upstate’s clubhouse after the concert tonight. She’s supposed to have tomorrow off and spending time with her is the only item on my to-do list.
“All set.”
She waits for me to mount the bike before resting her hand on my shoulder and lifting herself into the space behind me. Damn, I forgot how good it feels to have her back there. Haven’t had another passenger since her.
Shelby hasn’t forgotten how to ride, either. She snuggles up against me, the heat of her body soaking into my soul. To compensate for the extra weight on the machine, I start off slower than normal, easing our way back into traffic. Murphy and Heidi come up on my right.
We don’t get far before we’re forced to slow down by miles of backed up traffic. Since I still don’t listen to a lot of country songs—other than Shelby’s—I hadn’t fully appreciated Heidi’s warning that this festival’s one of the bigger events to come to the Capital Region every summer. Murphy signals for me to follow him, and together we weave in through the line of bumper-to-tailgate vehicles—jacked up trucks, cars, and jeeps, their radios blaring one form of twangy shit or another.
Shelby squeezes me tighter and I chuckle. Do any of these drones in their cages realize one of the stars of tonight’s show is whizzing past them?
While I’m familiar with the performing arts center, I’ve never been to the backstage area where the artists’ buses park. Once we’re inside the huge public park, Murphy and I pull into a small, circular patch of dirt off the road.
“Where are we headed?” I ask.
Shelby tugs and jiggles her phone out of her pocket. “Hang on.” She finally finds what she needs and recites a set of directions.
“I think that’s straight ahead and to the left.” Murphy points to the forked road in front of us.
“Look at you.” I smirk at him. “Almost like you used to be a road captain or something.”
He rolls his eyes and sweeps his arm out in front of him. “Lead the way, smartass.”
This time, I fall into the front position. We take left after left until the narrow, paved, unlined roads turn into dirt and gravel. Finally, the road opens into a wider space with a few scattered wooden barricades indicating it’s a private area.
A lone “security” guard walks up to greet us. Maybe he’ll be stricter as the night goes on, but for now, he takes Shelby’s word for it that she’s supposed to be there and waves us through.
Three massive tour buses are lined up near a loading dock attached to the back of the large amphitheater. Dawson Roads’ face is splashed all over two of the buses. The name of another band I don’t recognize decorates the third. Must be where Shelby’s expected to show up.
The piece of shit Shelby’s been traveling in could fit in the storage compartment of Dawson’s bus.
I back the bike into a spot near the loading dock and shut it down. Murphy glides in next to me.
“Shelby?” a guy calls out as he jogs over to us.
“Hey, Greg.” She braces herself on my shoulders and hops off. “I’m here.”
He slows his steps. “Where’s the van?” His curious gaze slides over me, then Murphy and Heidi. “Who are your friends?”
She makes the introductions, but it doesn’t seem to lessen Greg’s suspicions. If I thought it was because he was actually worried about her I wouldn’t care, but that’s not the vibe he’s projecting.
“Hey, Greg.” I tip my head to him instead of offering to shake his hand. “Heard a lot about you.” Nothing good, but now’s not the best time to antagonize her manager.
“Thanks for picking her up. Well, they’re ready for you, Shelby.” He glances at me again. “You can come watch.”
As if I was planning to leave.
“Shelby,” Greg says, drawing her closer. “I got a call from some lady with the local Dream Makers organization. I explained you don’t have room in your schedule—”
“No.” Shelby stops in her tracks and whirls on Greg. “Call her back and tell her I’ll be there.”
Murphy and Heidi slide matching what-the-fuck faces my way and I shrug.
“Come on, Shelby,” Greg grumbles, yanking out his phone. “It’s one kid. And you never let me send a photographer to make it worth the trouble.”
“I don’t care. Where is it?”
He scrolls through his phone. “Empire Med. She sent an email too.”
“Forward it to me. I have tomorrow off.”
“Yes, but it’s not that close. How are you planning to get there?”
“I’ll take you,” I offer, touching Shelby’s shoulder. I don’t even know what I’m agreeing to do but it’s obviously important to Shelby.
“Thank you.” She blows out a breath. “I’m spending my day off with Rooster anyway.”
Greg narrows his eyes at me. “She needs to be four hours west of here by Friday morning.”
This motherfucker doesn’t understand who he’s dealing with. “I’ve got plenty of road experience. I’ll get her wherever she needs to go.”
His gaze slips to my VP patch and his eyes narrow. Huh. Maybe he’s not a motorcycle enthusiast.
“I’m sorry,” Shelby whispers while Greg answers a call and walks away.
“What’s Dream Makers?” I ask.
“It’s. . .” Shelby drops her gaze and shakes her head.
“It’s a children’s charity.” Heidi gently touches Shelby’s arm. “Right? They grant wishes for sick children?”
Shelby nods. “I started working with them when I was on Redneck Roadhouse. If someone asks for me, I always go if I can line up my schedule.”
How did I
not know this about Shelby?
“Empire Med has a very dedicated team in the Children’s Hospital,” Heidi says. “They’ll appreciate your visit.”
“I’ll get you there tomorrow. Put it out of your head and focus on what you need to do tonight.”
She bites her lip and glances toward the loading area. “Are you sure you don’t mind taking me tomorrow?”
“Not at all.” My only plan was to soak up as much time with Shelby as possible. Doesn’t matter where.
Now that we’ve settled Shelby’s transportation issues, her shoulders relax, and a hint of a smile returns to her pretty face.
Fuck if I’m not doing whatever it takes to make this woman happy every second of the short amount of time we’ll be together.
Chapter Four
Shelby
Heat stings my cheeks, but I flash a quick smile and I pray no one asks me for more details about Dream Makers. It’s not something I can talk about before a show or I’ll never walk out onstage tonight.
“Alexa and I made these little craft kits I was going to drop off at the children’s hospital. Do you want to take them with you?” Heidi asks. “I work there so I try to bring stuff when I can…”
Tears sting my eyes, emotions bubbling way too close to the surface for me to handle. “That’s so sweet. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to. I just…”
I hate that Heidi seems nervous around me today. I’m still the same person who went boot shopping with her in Texas. Nothing’s changed. I glance around the concert venue—a far cry from the Tipsy Saddle, the sketchy little honkytonk I was performing at the first time we met. So, maybe a few things have changed. I reach out and squeeze her hand. “That sounds perfect. I usually try to bring something with me. Thank you.”
“Well, you better go get ready.” She shoos me toward the tour buses and loading dock bustling with roadies moving equipment. “I’ll be dead-center, screaming the loudest for you.”
Gosh, I go onstage so early, some nights hardly anyone’s even in their seats yet. It’ll be nice to have at least one person I know out there in the audience. “Thank you.”
Murphy nods and wishes me luck before curling his arm around Heidi’s shoulders and steering her toward his bike.
Then Rooster and I are alone, and I’m not quite sure what to say.
I scuff the toe of my boot over crumbling asphalt, drawing Rooster’s attention to my feet. “You’re not wearing your electric teal boots?” he teases.
“I—they’re special. I only wear them onstage.”
He blinks and also seems at a loss for words. “Guess we need to get you another pair. Day boots. Stage boots.”
“I don’t need a pair of boots to keep you on my mind, Rooster.” My whispered words are almost swept up in the breeze and rustle of leaves.
He curls his fingers around mine. “Show me around?”
“You forget, I haven’t been here myself yet.”
“Shit, that’s right.” He glances toward his bike. “Do you need me to go so you can get ready?”
He doesn’t say it with much conviction. That makes it easier to tug him toward the loading dock. “No way. You’re my guest for the night.” I stop. “Shoot. I have another pass if Heidi wants it.”
“Nah, Murphy ain’t lettin’ her out of his sight.” Rooster sweeps his gaze over me. “And I’m not letting you out of mine.”
My eager heart pounds even faster, ready to burst out of my chest and into Rooster’s hands. Taking a calming breath, I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my chin on his chest. “Did I mention that I’m really happy to see you?”
A half-smile teases at the corner of his mouth as he watches me, like he’s pretending to consider the question. “I don’t think so.”
Longing for him almost brings me to my knees. I’m completely addicted to the heat of his stare. Trembling, I lean up on tiptoes, teasing my nails over the back of his neck into his hair. “Your hair’s longer.”
His eyes close and he gives me a sleepy smile. “Haven’t had time to get it cut.”
What’s keeping him so busy? A desire to probe into every last detail of his life threatens to turn me into a dang fool. “I can cut it for you.”
His eyes pop open. “I think you have more important things to do than shear me.”
“Rooster?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Please kiss me again.”
Instead of a cocky comeback, he edges closer. Tall, he’s so damn tall. Roughly beautiful. Strong. My whole world fills with him. His scent—crisp summer grass, leather with a touch of motor oil. His warmth. His touch. Gently, he teases his fingers through my hair and tugs my head back.
He pins me with a stare that sends shivers of anticipation down my spine. Slowly, he dips down and brushes his mouth against mine. His beard grazes my chin but I press my hands against his cheeks, tugging him closer.
His arms tighten, lifting me again so we’re at the right height. This time, no one’s close enough to interrupt, so I wrap my legs around him, holding on. Everything about him entices me.
He flicks his tongue against my lips and tingles of sensation race down my spine. The gentleness is sweet but I’m ravenous and I’ve missed him.
I squeeze closer, clinging to him, and he seems to snap. His soft kisses turn demanding. Rough fingers tease under the edge of my shirt, tickling my skin. My heart pounds in my ears. His breathing quickens. This inescapable attraction between us still burns lightning-rod hot.
The crunch of gravel invades our moment. I draw back and peer over his shoulder. My van rolls into the parking lot. “Well, shoot. The band’s here.”
Rooster’s mouth twitches and he kisses the tip of my nose before setting me down. My gaze drops to the bulge in his jeans, and I slick my tongue over my lip.
He groans. “Don’t. I’m trying hard not to fuck up your night.”
I tip my head to the side, meeting his burning stare. “What?”
“Shelby.” He leans down and brushes his lips against my ear. “It’s taking all my control not to bend you over my bike, yank your jeans down, and—”
“Shelby!”
Dammit, Trent!
Rooster’s eyes turn hard as he twists around to see who dared interrupt us.
“Rooster.” I grip his chin and turn him to face me again. Curling one finger, I beckon him closer. “You owe me new panties.”
Curiosity erases his murderous expression. “How’s that?”
I wiggle my hips and he groans. “These are soaked because of you.”
The scrape and crunch of several pairs of boots puts an end to my teasing. Rooster’s not finished, though. He leans down again, whispering, “I’ll require proof later.”
“Shelby?” Trent stops next to us and I straighten, dropping my arms to my sides. Rooster keeps me close, his hand curled over my hip, our bodies pressed tight. “Did you check things out yet?”
“No, we just got here.” I wince at the shaky wobble to my voice. Trent’s disapproving big brother face shouldn’t have any effect on me. “I spoke to Greg, though.”
Trent grunts and gestures toward the loading dock. “I’ll grab someone to help us unload.” He sends a dismissive glance Rooster’s way. “Let you get ready.”
“Thanks.”
Rooster glances at the van. “You need help?”
“We’ve got it.” Trent rejects Rooster’s offer with a quick shake of his head.
Rooster’s eyes narrow, and I tug on his hand. “You’re with me.”
The usual nerves that leave my stomach fluttering before a show seem to have taken a vacation with Rooster here. Hand in hand, we stroll toward the loading dock and climb the stairs to the backstage area. A gentle breeze blowing through the open structure keeps the summer heat bearable.
“I want to do whatever I can to help you out,” Rooster says.
“You already are.” I nudge him with my shoulder. “You can play bodyguard if it makes you f
eel better.”
His protective, growly expression returns. “Do you need a bodyguard?”
Am I going to tell him about the guys who get too handsy night after night? Nope. He already had a taste of that mayhem in Texas and ended up getting into a brawl over it. “I’m fine.”
“That didn’t really answer my question.”
His concern wraps around me like a warm security blanket. More often than not I’ve felt like a petal tossed in the wind on this tour. My emotions twist and tangle. Should I share some of my fears and doubts with Rooster? Or pretend it’s all roses?
“Everything’s perfectly peachy.” I smile up at him. There’s no reason to dwell on negative things he can’t help me fix.
Because one thing I know for sure.
Our time together always has an expiration date.
Chapter Five
Rooster
I’ve never been a master at keeping my hands to myself. With Shelby so close, it’s damn near impossible. But I didn’t show up today to distract her or jack up her pre-show anxiety.
After her concert? Game on.
“Shelby! You ready for soundcheck?” Someone calls out.
“Yup! Coming.” She jogs down the long corridor toward the stage, hair bouncing around her shoulders and down her back. I have to quit gawking at her and pick up the pace, she’s moving so fast.
“Here.” Greg stops me with a hand on my chest—a hand he’s dangerously close to losing. I open my mouth to issue a warning, when he offers a shiny laminated rectangle with the name of the festival and VIP: All Access in big black letters across the bottom, strung on a black lanyard. “You need to wear this so no one hassles you backstage.”
Well, now I almost feel bad for wanting to break his arms. “Thanks.” I sling it around my neck and search the area for Shelby.
“She’ll be out onstage.” Greg points to a stack of amps a few feet away, near what looks like an entrance to the stage. “You can watch from there.”
“Okay.” I wander over to the spot. My gaze lands on Shelby standing in the center of the scuffed stage testing her earpiece and mumbling a few things into a microphone. She taps it with her palm a few times. “Where’s my rhythm section?” she hollers.
Rhythm of the Road Page 3