Hell Yeah!: Man of My Heart (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The Omega Team Book 5) (3 page)

Shit.

The waitress came by with the coffeepot and gestured over his empty mug. At first, he thought to refuse but then thought, what the hell, he only had himself to go home to. By choice, of course. So he nodded at her for a refill. While he sipped the hot brew, he decided to take a look in the little envelope Aron had left. It contained two things—a slip of paper with Aron’s name and phone number, and a photograph. A head shot.

Caleb looked at the photo then did a double take, staring at it again. Music helped him while away his self-imposed isolation. Country rock music. And here, right in front of him, was a shot of the hottest up-and-coming female singer in years. Jasmine Grey. Shit! Aron’s wife was related to
her?

No, don’t even think about it,
his poor ragged soul whispered.

He finished his coffee, threw some money down on the table, and eased his way out of the booth. He’d figured out how to do things requiring flexibility in his leg without letting people know most of it was gone. Without stopping to consider it, he grabbed the envelope and stuck it in his pocket then limped out to his truck.

*****

“So, how are you doing? Really?”

Carson Wagner sat across the table from Jasmine on her patio, studying her with that analyzing look she knew so well.

“Good. All things considered.”

She wasn’t about to tell him she still woke up in the middle of the night with the feel of Cobra’s hands on her. This was a battle she’d determined to fight herself.

“Are you sure? Because we have stuff to talk about, good stuff, but I want to make sure you’re ready to move forward.”

“Carson, it’s been three weeks. I’m okay. The best part of the whole episode, if there is a best part, is the band and Gary broke into the room and yanked him off me before he could do any real damage.”

“And thank the lord for that. Okay, if you’re sure, take a look at what I have here.” He reached into his briefcase, pulled out a folder, opened it, and set it on the table before her.

Jasmine’s eyes widened as she read the information. The next step in her career was a big one.

“Wow, Carson, I don’t know what to say.”

Jasmine continued to study the sheets of paper in front of her, a prospective tour schedule built around the requests he’d received and the proposal for her new album. They were meeting on her patio, the same place she’d sat with Liberty, since her house, at the moment, was woefully short of furniture.

Carson Wagner leaned back in his chair, the big umbrella shading him from the sun, wearing that bland expression on his face she’d come to know so well. The one that said,
Talk away then we’ll get down to business
.

She laughed. “I know that look. You’ll let me have my say then finagle me around to your way of thinking.”

Carson grinned at her. “Actually, it’s your way of thinking, in the end. That’s why we’re so good together.”

“Is that the reason?” She took a swallow of iced tea.

“I like to think it’s because you know I’d never force you into something you don’t want.”

“I do.” Jasmine fiddled with her ponytail. “I want to do this but I need a little time to get my head together after what happened with Cobra.”

“You’re not letting the attack spook you, are you?” Carson asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “I won’t give the jerk that much power over me. I just want to be…cautious.”

“Okay, let’s look at this. You’ve got some great opportunities here, things we thought might not come around for months yet. With Sweet Dixie
learning your song and having you perform it with them on stage, your stock is higher than a kite. Are you ready to jump on this while it’s hot?”

“I am, but what if he shows up at a gig I’m playing, or when I’m doing an interview?”

“I’ve thought of that, and I have a solution, providing it works for you.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You’re going to put a hit out on him?”

Carson laughed. “Not that I wouldn’t like to. But your cousin called with a suggestion and—”

“Oh, my god!” she broke in. “My cousin? Which bigmouth was it? I’ll smack them silly for mixing in my business.”

“Just hold on a minute.” He took her hand and clasped it in both of his. “People have your best interest at heart.”

“She must have worked damn fast,” Jasmine spit out, “because she was just here yesterday when I got the call from you about Cobra.”

“Actually, it was Aron McCoy who called me.” His lips twitched as he tried to conceal a grin. “But he does make a good case. And he even has someone lined up.”

“Oh, for god’s sake.” She pushed her chair back, leaped to her feet, and began pacing the patio. “I thought I put that to bed with her yesterday.”

“Jasmine? Listen to me. Come sit down and hear me out.”

In a huff, she dropped back into her chair. It wasn’t that the bodyguard idea didn’t have merit. She just hated feeling manipulated. Her cousin Liberty McCoy was a master at that if she thought it was for your own good. Besides, she’d seen others on tour with their personal bodyguards and always found it a little pretentious.

“What?” She glared at him.

“We want to be sensible about this, right?”

“But—”

He held up a hand. “Bad as the situation was, at least we had hopes of Cobra being locked up.” He leaned forward. “You think I don’t know how everything affected you? Don’t appreciate it? Honey, that’s a devastating, frightening situation.”

“Having Cobra slip the leash, so to speak, doesn’t help any,” she pointed out. Her bravado withered and disappeared, leaving fear in its place. “How do I do it, Carson? Go back out there when that night is still fresh in my mind? Try to keep myself from looking at every face to see if it’s his. Or, worse yet, someone else who’s trying to do the same thing.”

“Cobra was a different kind of situation, Jas. Not like your average stalker, of which, thank the lord, you haven’t had any. But, now, we’ll be prepared. You can’t hide that incredible talent of yours, keep it locked away, because of some asshole.”

She blew out a breath. “He sure did take the shine off the whole thing.”

“Don’t let him ruin this for you. Let me talk to this guy your cousin thinks would be a great protector for you. He comes with outstanding credentials.”

Jasmine frowned. “If he’s so outstanding, how come he’s available?”

“According to Aron, he’s been taking some time off.”

“Oh, great. Sounds like he’s dealing with a problem. I’ve got my own, thanks.”

“Just let me talk to him,” Carson pleaded. “If I think he’s wrong for this, we’ll revisit the situation.” He smiled at her. “Let’s take advantage of the opportunity we’ve all worked so hard for.”

That little phrase did it for her. She had to remember she wasn’t the only one on the brink of success here. The band—except for Cobra—had worked their collective ass off for this, and Carson had put his rep on the line for her.

“Okay. Talk to this guy and see what kind of feel you get for him.”

Carson squeezed her hand. “Good girl. And you get to working on that new material. Meanwhile, I’ve got feelers out for a new bass player.”

“Thanks, Carson.” They both rose and she gave him a hug. “When will you talk to this guy?”

“I’m going to call Aron back and see if he can set it up for tomorrow.” He gave her a last little big brother type squeeze. “We’ll take care of you, Jas. Don’t worry. I want you to be able to enjoy your success.”

She did, too. Then a thought popped into her head.

“What about all the tour stops? Cobra could be at any of them.”

“If we hire this guy as your bodyguard, he’ll talk to the off-duty cops these venues hire for security. We won’t give out names or the background. Just tell them there’s a guy been giving us some shit, could be dangerous, and this is what he looks like.”

“Okay.” Her muscles eased a fraction. “Thanks. Let me know what happens with the bodyguard.”

“You bet.”

“And, Carson? Thanks for everything. I mean it.”

“It’s what I do, Jas.” He winked at her, stuck his Stetson on his head, took his briefcase, and walked out to his car.

Jasmine stood in the driveway watching him drive away. She should have figured Aron would call Carson. Liberty’d probably told him Carson was coming down to see her today, and the two of them figured to do an end run around her. In a way, she was relieved and grateful her cousin took such an interest in her life. Libby kept her grounded and looked out for her, and it gave her a nice feeling of security.

She looked at her watch. Four o’clock. Just in case this bodyguard thing worked out, she’d need more than a stick or two of furniture in her house. She pulled her cell out of her pocket and dialed Libby.

“Since you’re making so much mischief in my life already, how’d you like to go furniture shopping?”

Caleb grumbled to himself as he drove down the two-lane country highway toward the address Carson Wagner had given him. He still couldn’t figure out how this happened so fast. Or how it even happened at all. One minute, he was happily miserable in his self-imposed isolation. He’d even learned to live without sex except for the occasional connection with his hand. The next, Aron McCoy had turned his life upside down. He’d thought it the fickle finger of fate they bumped into each other in Kerrville and nothing would do but they have coffee together. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Aron had managed to connect with him again on the one day he came into town to pick up stuff at the hardware store.

He’d been happy not having to talk to people. Be with people. He could wallow in his misery up in his isolated cabin and feel as sorry for himself as he wanted to. But that damn Aron had trekked up to his cabin, banged on his door, and told him to get himself cleaned up, he had a job for him. He should have flat out told the man no when the subject came up, but the man just wouldn’t take that for an answer anyway. He’d said yes to shut him up and get rid of him. He figured he could take the meeting, tell them he’d consider it, go home, call Aron, and tell him not no, but hell, no, and gone back to his misery.

So then how the hell did he find himself on this road driving to some rock star’s home?

A female rock star
. He grunted.
Okay, not a rock star. A country rock singer
. What the fuck was the difference? He’d handled bodyguard detail for a couple of them while still on The Omega Team, and he hadn’t thought they were all that. One of them hadn’t been too bad, but the other was a real pain in his ass. Conceited, demanding, overdone on the makeup and lacking in the brains department. If this Jasmine Grey turned out to be like the latter, he’d be out of there so fast, his tires would be smoking.

“Take the next left and go one point four miles.”

The voice of his GPS had been giving him directions since he left the cabin, although he’d realized he hadn’t needed them. At least not much. His destination lay about five miles from where he lived.

“In point two miles turn left.”

The turn was just past where the road crossed over the Guadalupe River and took him along a narrow, winding road up, up, and up. He’d wondered what was way back here, and now he knew. Large plots of land with gorgeous homes, some large, some small. No sidewalks and— Wait! Someone riding a horse along the road?

Two more turns and he was at his destination—a big white house set way back from the road, with windows and a long porch across the front. As he followed the upper curve of the driveway, he looked out across the vista and saw the porch had a view covering miles of scenery, including the two giant hills called the Twin Sisters. He came to a stop in the parking area just to the right of the garage entrance. Aron’s truck was already there. Good. He’d promised to be there and he’d kept his word. No way did Caleb want to walk into this thing cold.

He climbed the porch steps, glad there were only three of them since his leg still didn’t work properly on stairs. He lifted a hand to ring the doorbell next to a double door, but Aron was already there, opening the door for him.

“Glad to see you made it, Ace.” He grinned and held out his hand.

“It’s not like you gave me a lot of choice,” he grumbled. The man had threatened to hogtie him and haul him bodily out of his cabin.

“Could you manage to get that scowl off your face before I introduce you to the client?”

“Client? I didn’t say yet I’d take the job.” Already, he got his back up.

“You will.” Aron grinned at him. “Come on inside.”

Caleb let his friend haul him into the house. He stepped into a huge room, like a family room, with living room, dining room, and kitchen all in one big space. Sunlight from the many windows cast a warm glow on the hardwood floor. But it wasn’t the room that made the big impression on him. It was the woman who came out from behind the island counter setting off the kitchen.

Sucker punched didn’t come close to how he felt.

He faced no snotty Miss Glitz. Quite the opposite. He guessed her to be about five foot eight, with auburn hair the color of fall leaves tied back in a neat ponytail. She wore not a stitch of makeup except something slick on her full lips, but, with her forest-green eyes, insanely thick lashes, and peaches-and-cream complexion, she didn’t need any. At least to his way of thinking.

Her simple green T-shirt fell just right across the slope of her breasts, and her jeans clung to her hips and long legs.

For the first time in more months than he cared to count, Caleb felt a stirring in his cock, a tingle in his balls. More than a year had passed since a woman appealed to him on any level. Now his body was going to get him into trouble when he least needed it to. He wanted to run his tongue over those full lips, maybe bite the lower one a little and swallow her tiny moan of pain.

He wanted to run his hands over that tempting body, cradle the breasts whose fullness the T-shirt hinted at. Stroke the silky-looking skin. Feel those legs wrapped around him while he buried himself in—

Fuck!

Aron looked at him, a smile teasing his lips. “Let me introduce you to Jasmine Grey. Jas, meet Caleb Branam.”

Her smile was pleasant but reserved. When she held out her hand, he knew it would be rude to ignore it. But when he touched it, he felt more than the smooth skin of her palm or the callouses on her fingers. A bolt of electricity hot enough to fry his nerve endings shot up his arm and spread its heat through his body. A slight widening of her eyes offered the sole indication she felt something, too. If he had half a brain—which he was pretty sure was all he had left by this time—he’d turn around and walk out. Leave it to Aron to kill that idea.

“Why don’t we all go outside and sit down.” Aron gestured toward the patio.

Caleb realized there wasn’t any furniture in the big family room except two bar stools.

“I apologize for the empty house. I haven’t had a chance to go furniture shopping yet.”

Her voice was soft, with a slight lilt. Of course. She was a singer, right?

“But she’s going to buy more tomorrow,” Aron put in. “Libby’s going with her, so I say, look out stores.”

Caleb cleared his throat and tried to roll his tongue back into his mouth. “That’s no problem. Outside is fine.”

“I can offer you coffee or sweet tea,” she told him. “Whichever you prefer.”

She kicked his expected stereotype all to hell.

“Coffee, if you don’t mind.” He cleared his throat again. “Please. And just black.”

With his jeans, he had worn a short-sleeved shirt so the burns on his arm would be visible. Not much he could do about the slight scarring on his face, but he usually kept his arms covered. Perversely, he wanted to see her reaction to the twisted flesh left by the burn. Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t what he got. She flicked a glance at his arm, skated a look over his face, and went right on with the conversation.

“No problem. Why don’t you and Aron go on outside, and I’ll bring the tray.”

“I’ll do it,” Aron interjected. “You go sit down with Caleb.”

She shot him a look like flinted steel. “I’ll do it.”

“Okay, okay.” Aron threw up his hands. “Just trying to be helpful. Come on, Caleb. Let’s grab some seats.”

They were barely seated before Aron gave him a hard look. “Well?”

“Well, what? I just met her. I don’t know what this job requires or even if she could stand to have me around.”

“Don’t throw those scars in here,” Aron warned. “She glanced at them. I want your gut reaction.”

Caleb folded his arms. “She seems okay. At least for all of the ninety seconds I’ve been with her so far.”

Aron threw back his head and laughed. “So I should forget you practically had your tongue hanging out of your mouth?”

“Okay, okay,” he grumbled. “She’s attractive. I’ll give you that. But you’re not hiring me to be her stud.”

Aron’s face sobered. “No, I’m not. But I also don’t want you to stand around with a stick up your ass. She’s not what you expected, is she?”

“Exactly what did you expect, Mr. Branam?”

Both men startled. Neither of them had heard the screen door open and close or her footsteps on the concrete. Caleb felt a hot flush rise on his cheeks. He stood up, trying not to favor his leg, took the tray with mugs on it from her hands, and placed it on the table. Again, he noticed her glance skate over his arm but with curiosity not disgust.

“You’ll have to forgive my friend,” Aron began. “He’s—”

“I can speak for myself, Aron.” He sat down, picked up one of the mugs, and took a swallow, more to gather his thoughts than anything else. “I’ll confess, Miss Grey, my experience with music stars, or stars of any kind, has been limited. But in my experience, they are usually arrogant, discourteous, and stuck-up. At least to the people they pay.”

“Well.” Jasmine took the seat across from him, a tiny smile playing at her lips. “I hope I was suitably humble in the ninety seconds you had to form your opinion.”

Shit, shit, shit!

“I am sorry. Look, can we start again? I’ll try to be less of an ass.”

She laughed, a sound as musical as her voice, and his nerve endings did a happy dance.

“I think we can manage that.” She held out her hand. “Jasmine Grey, country/rock music performer.”

“Caleb Branam, bodyguard and protector with more skills than manners.” He took her hand again. “Pleased to meet you.”

Again that bolt of electricity shot through him, and he blinked at its effect on him. It was going to take some mighty long cold showers to keep his wits about him and his pants on with Miss Jasmine Grey. And this from a man who’d lost interest in sex a year ago.

“I understand you’ve been briefed on the situation.”

He dipped his head. “By both Aron and your manager.”

“Then you know what’s required.”

Another swallow of coffee. “You want me to be a bodyguard twenty-four seven to make sure this asshole doesn’t get anywhere near you.”

She nodded. “That’s about it. You should know while I still have nightmares about what happened, I’m not letting it ruin my life. I’m pretty sure my band and my road manager can keep this lowlife away from me, but I’m not going to argue about it anymore.”

“Good idea. Guys like this are unstable and, therefore, unpredictable. ”

“I’ve seen your pedigree, and you’ve seen the calendar for my upcoming activities. What are your feelings?”

It felt good to get down to brass tacks. He’d been out of the field for so long, he wasn’t sure if he’d remember how to do this. But, like falling off a horse, it came right back to him. He told her what his rules were as a bodyguard, to ensure her safety. Insisted, in a questionable situation, he took charge, no argument. He went through the litany he used to recite to Omega Team clients.

“So that’s it, basically,” he told her. “It’s the same thing I laid out for Aron and your manager when we had our conference call. You want to give me your thoughts?”

She chewed on her lips for a moment, frowning. Then her forehead smoothed out. “I can live with all that, but I have a couple of caveats of my own.”

Of course she did. “Let’s hear them.”

“I won’t stand for being ordered around. I’m not stupid, and if you tell me what to do, I can follow orders. Unless, of course, the jackass shows up, and then if you say jump, I’ll ask how high.”

“What else?” Caleb asked.

“I expect to be treated with respect and I’ll return the favor.”

She hadn’t said a word about his leg or his scars. He was sure Aron had briefed everyone about them. He wasn’t sure if he was glad or mad.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Jasmine dipped her head, and Caleb did the same.

Aron blew out a breath. “Thank the lord. Let’s finish our coffee, and you two can wrap up the details.”

As they talked, the tension in his body eased. Probably because his expectations had been wrong, and he’d been all tied up in knots for no reason. And maybe because it felt good to be doing something again. With a job like this, he could keep to the background. Oh, sure, he wanted everyone to know Jasmine had protection, but he had experience keeping a low profile in an active situation.

He’d dealt with punks like this Cobra before. He’d be able to take care of him in short order.

“Let me get some more coffee,” Jasmine said, “and we’ll talk about how this is going to work.”

*****

Jasmine stood in the center of the great room, directing the deliverymen from the furniture store. She and Liberty had put a nice dent in her cash, but she was happy with everything she’d gotten. She’d even thought to ask Aron what kind of mattress she should get for Caleb. He’d be staying with her for only a short while, but Aron had told her about his leg, and she wanted him to be comfortable.

She’d had them set up the room Caleb would be using first thing, so she could make it up with the new linens she bought and washed in fresh-smelling detergent. She even had a television in there. She’d hooked it up to the satellite system and tested it to make sure it worked. She wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. After all, it would be just the two of them alone out here while she finished the songs for the album.