She nodded, then gestured for her band to follow. “We can raid your mini fridge while we’re waiting.”
He gave her one of those lazy winks that she still couldn’t work out. Did he even know he was doing it? They were super casual, and he did it when he was…not like he had his guard down, but when he was pleased.
Maybe he thought that had gone well, too.
Her relief lasted for exactly two hours and twelve minutes, until they were shuttled over to the Capitol Building for their sound check on the outdoor stage. Their tour buses were parked nearby, so they’d have somewhere to stay between the sound check and the live dress rehearsal show that night, but Track managed to put himself directly in her path once she was done.
Dean was behind her, but this time they didn’t have the upper hand of advance warning.
Track had clearly been thinking. Stewing. He stepped in front of her, not quite blocking her path, but if she kept going, they’d be walking side-by-side, and Dean would get pushed back a few steps.
She skidded to a stop instead, and felt Dean right against her back. “Hey, Track,” she said.
He nodded at her. His face was set in a hard to read expression. “I hear you disappeared after Savannah.”
The country music grapevine was damn efficient. She winced inside, but kept her face blank. “We were on break.”
He snorted. “You going to have a problem on stage tonight? I’d be happy to have my set run long.”
She was only doing three songs. Other than the fact that it was a dress rehearsal for a nationally televised performance—and even that shouldn’t stress her out—it was the easiest gig possible and they both knew it. “What a sweet offer, but I’m fine.”
He rocked back on his heels.
She just smiled coolly and waited for his next volley.
It didn’t come. His lips tightened for a moment, then he nodded. “Have a good one, then.”
She returned the slow head bob as he turned and walked away.
“Breathe,” Dean said quietly behind her.
Her chest hurt as she exhaled. He squeezed her shoulder, a quick, warm touch that grounded her. “Come on.” She led him through the maze of curtained-off spaces, a makeshift backstage in the centre of the nation’s capital that spilled out into a tight line of tour buses. They weren’t the only performers in the show, not by a long shot, and there were a couple of hundred people milling around the space between the stage and the Capitol Building.
Nobody paid them any attention as she led Dean to her tour bus.
“This is our home away from home,” she said as the door swung open for them. “And this is Dwayne, our house mother.”
The bus driver laughed as Dean climbed aboard. They shook hands. “A little bird told me we were getting another body on board. Welcome.”
“Thanks, Dwayne.”
She gave Dean a little smile for using the driver’s name, and he flashed her one of those winks she was starting towant. Danger, she told herself. No crushing on the bodyguard.
She gave him a quick and dirty tour before showing him his bunk. Then she excused herself to lie down in her room, because she found herself wanting another wink more than she should.
Six more weeks. She could do anything for six weeks. Especially now she had that big, no-nonsense man in plaid on her side.
But no more wanting his touch and his looks. She needed to be more disciplined about how she responded to basic human kindness from him. Just because it was rare on her end didn’t mean she could read anything more into it on his end.
Chapter Nine
DEAN watchedLiana disappear into her bedroom, then turned to face his inquisitors when the door clicked shut.
Her band members all had different looks on their faces. Jackie was the softest, which surprised him, but she’d had the benefit of a heads-up from Liana, at least in text form.
Andrew and West—whose names he kept switching in his head, that needed to stop—were harder to get a read on. So he didn’t even try, he just gestured to an empty chair. “Can I sit?”
West nodded. “Sure.”
