He shakes his head. “You would have done it regardless. Pete or Jules would have convinced you. Or your parents. Have you talked to them?  What do they think?”

“They sounded thrilled over the phone. They’re planning to come to the last show, since the tour ends in Detroit. You should come, too, and meet them.”

Latson’s brow jumps. “You want me to meet your parents?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve already met your dad.”

He’s silent as he studies me.

“What?”

“I’m a tattooed ex-musician raising his nephew. What are they going to think?”

“They’re going to think you’re stepping in for the father Oliver never had.” I push my body up and partially over him, so we’re face to face. “They’re also going to realize you employ my brother, who makes a decent living. I guarantee they’re going to think I’m happy and you’re amazing.”

A slow smile spreads across his lips before they’re inches from mine. “In that case,” he kisses me, “I’ll definitely meet your parents.”

“You will?” I whisper. The thought gives me butterflies. “I guess this means we’re serious, then.”

“Were we ever not?” His hands slide down my back and find the bottom of my shirt. They slip underneath and start to trace my spine. “The minute I saw you dancing I was serious about you.”

“No.” I smirk. “You were horny. There’s a difference.”

He laughs. “Is that why you think I asked you to work for me?”

“No. You needed me because I have mad bartending skills.”

His eyes light up and he shakes his head no. My mouth falls open. “I do have mad bartending skills!”

“You do. But my real motivation …”  He stops following my spine and removes his hands from beneath my shirt. He runs them up into my hair, cradling the back of my head. “My real reason was to get close to you. I had to find a way to spend time with you, to get to know you.”

I study his chocolate brown eyes and my heart pounds. “Let me guess. Next you’re going to tell me you lost Oliver at the aquarium on purpose.”

“Hell, no. Running into you there was a coincidence. A very lucky coincidence.”

“You’re telling me,” I say. “I think O stole my heart the minute I heard his little voice. If he had asked the wrong person for help …”

I shudder at the thought before Latson pulls me close. “I think fate stepped in that day.”

“Or maybe it was Audrey.”

I hadn’t thought of the possibility until now, and Latson’s expression softens. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

I smile before his lips gently brush over mine. Before we can take things further, my phone sounds with a reminder.

“Ugh,” I groan. “I have to get moving.”

“What’s on the schedule for today?”

I roll off him and on to my back, reaching for my cell. “Brunch with Roxanne. She wanted to get together after the first show to discuss any changes.”

“Are you meeting anyone else?”

I silence the reminder. “The guys will be there. Why?”

“Not Caleb?”

“No, not that I’m aware of. Last night was the first time I’d ever heard of him.” I sit up and set my phone back on the table next to Oliver’s drawing. “He really gets under your skin, doesn’t he?”

Latson scrubs his face with the palm of his hand. “Yeah. He does.”

I pull my legs beneath me and adjust my expression, to let him know I’m waiting for an explanation. He rolls his eyes.

“I told you Caleb is Levi’s brother.”

“So, he’s guilty by association?”

He sighs. “He’s also the record exec who had the final say in dropping my band from the label. He chose to believe the tabloids and his asshole brother instead of me.”

I vaguely remember some of the headlines I read during my Google search. “How did the press get wind of the situation anyway?”

“Levi. He hates me just as much as I hate him. He was there when I –” Latson catches himself, his mouth forming a thin line. “Levi twisted the truth and took it to people who would listen. Then, my dad got involved and wanted custody of Oliver.” Latson grimaces. “So, yes. Caleb getting under my skin is an understatement. He ended my career.”

The more I learn about Latson’s past the more I think Audrey ended his career. Everything he’s dealt with has stemmed from her decisions. I keep my mouth shut, though. Bad mouthing his dead sister is probably not the best idea.

Instead, I crawl over to his side and hover above him. “People are shitty and I hate that you’ve been hurt.”

“I hate that we’re talking about this.” He sits up straight and reaches for me. “I have one more night with you. Let’s not ruin it by talking about my past.”

I agree and end up in his lap. “No parties after the show tonight either,” I add. “Just us.”

He smiles. “Just us. On a date.”

I shoot him a curious look.

“I thought we could sight-see, if you’re up for it,” he says. “How much of L.A. have you visited since you’ve been out here?”

“Lemme think.” I set my finger against my chin in pretend thought. “Barely any.”

“Good. After you play we’re headed to see the Hollywood sign.”

“Yeah?” I can’t stop my grin.

“And then we can go wherever we want. The Hollywood Walk of Fame is close. I’d take you shopping on Rodeo Drive, but I think most stores will be closed by then.”

Talk about expensive. “I don’t need anything from Rodeo Drive.” I set my hand against Latson’s cheek. “I have everything I need right here.”

He lowers his gaze to my mouth. “Where have you been all my life?”

“Where have you been all of mine?”

He gives me my favorite lopsided dimple smile before kissing me senseless. We may only have the next twenty-four hours together, but we’re going to make them count.

~~~~

“Let me help you with that, darlin’.”

“Thanks, Beau.”

I hand our driver my guitar case as I haul myself up the steps of the tour bus. I keep my acoustic with me between cities because it gives me something to do besides watch movies and sleep.

“Y’all alone?  Where are the boys?”

“They’re on their way. You know how it is.”

The fifty-nine-year-old ex-bull rider scowls at me. “If I told you once I told you a thousand times. Stop walkin’ your tail out to the bus in the dark after shows. You hear me?  It’s not safe.”

I reach up and playfully flick the brim of his Stetson. Beau has become a surrogate father of sorts. “You want to talk about safe?  How can you watch the road wearing this thing?  I can barely see your eyes.”

“Are you sassin’ me?”

“Don’t I always?”

He hands me my guitar case with an exasperated sigh, and I grin. “Frowning like that with give you wrinkles,” I warn him. “You need to keep that face pretty for the ladies.”

He chuckles. “There’s only one lady I’m interested in seein’ and she’s at our next stop.”

“Then I’ll go get comfortable.” I adjust my backpack on my shoulder. “We can’t be late for your date in Dallas.”

He winks at me before I wander back to my bunk. The bus sleeps eight, and my “room” is below Roxanne’s. When I first boarded the tour bus in L.A., my immediate thought was it looked like a motorhome on steroids. The front lounge holds opposing couches, a small table, a mounted flat screen, and a kitchenette. Our bunks are located in the middle of the bus, and another small lounge, along with the bathroom, resides in the back.

Pulling the curtain to my bunk aside, I toss my things on my bed. It’s hard to believe I left Los Angeles three weeks ago. We just played Denver, and in an hour we’ll be headed south to Texas. Time is flying, but I’m enjoying it. My only regret is I haven’t seen Latson since the first show. We talk daily, and I’ve been waiting for him to surprise me again. I have to remind myself that he said his visits would be few and far between.

Before I get comfy in my sweats for the long ride, I grab my phone and send him a message: Bye bye Rocky Mountain High. Hello Lone Star State.