“My snare sounds a little off. I think a few adjustments are necessary,” he said.

She straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his lower back. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Maybe move it a bit closer so I can reach it properly.”

She snuggled against him, pressing her breasts into his hard chest, her face into his neck. She inhaled his scent and couldn’t seem to stop herself from sucking gentle kisses over his throat.

“Gah! Boner time,” he said and wrapped both arms around her to shift her closer. He wasn’t just saying that to make her giggle until her cheeks hurt. He really was hard. She felt him against her mound.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing the heat between her thighs against him. He groaned and kissed her forehead. “If you don’t stop encouraging me, I’m going to tell you all the things I want to do to your hot little body and embarrass the hell out of you.”

“Try me,” she murmured, kissing the sexy cleft in his chin and then sucking his lower lip into her mouth.

“Are you going to fuck her right here in front of everyone?” an unfamiliar voice said from the other side of the drum kit.

Rebekah swiveled her head and caught a glimpse of Jon Mallory before Eric and the stool toppled backward, taking her with it. A cymbal clanged.

“Ow,” Eric protested.

His body had cushioned her fall.

“Are you okay, Reb?” Eric asked.

She grinned at his concern. “Me? You’re the one who hit the floor.”

“Who’s the girl?” Jon asked, circling the drum kit and offering a hand to Eric. Rebekah tried not to stare. Jon had aged twenty years since she’d seen him on TV last and that had only been five years ago.

“Our new FOH,” Eric said, climbing to his feet and helping Rebekah scrape herself off the floor.

“No shit? What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She offered Jon a friendly smile. “Rebekah.”

“Jon.”

“Well, yeah. I think I know who you are.”

He grinned, his gray eyes sweeping up her body. “I suppose this is the reason Marcus has his panties all in a bunch. He about took my head off when I asked him where my bass was.”

“He best be getting over it,” Eric grumbled.

Rebekah understood why Marcus was upset, but she wasn’t going to relent and give up her position as FOH, even if he did have seniority. She had to live up to Dave’s expectations, and the band’s, and most importantly, her own. “I suppose I should get to work on the mics,” she said. “You guys ready to rehearse?”

“I’d rather keep you as my snare,” Eric said and wrapped both arms around her back.

“Sounds pretty violent,” Jon said.

“Keeps her between my legs.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be between hers?”

“Maybe someday,” she said and wriggled out of Eric’s grasp.

She shuffled through equipment cases and found the microphones she’d read about in Dave’s notes the day before. She set them up from memory, making sure they were in the right location and the perfect distance from the drumheads.

“You sure you haven’t done this before?” Eric asked as he watched her set things up.

“I have done this before. In college and on-the-job training. I just never got paid before. Besides, Dave gave great instructions.”

Speaking of, she’d left the notebook in the equipment truck. She’d probably need it to figure out the wiring configuration. “I’ll be right back.” She headed out of the venue and into the truck, which was now empty. The amplifier she’d left her notebook on was gone. The notebook, also gone. Rebekah’s heart sank. She raced back into the building and found Jake changing the strings on one of Trey’s guitars.

“Hey, Jake, have you seen a wire-bound notebook with a black cover? I left it on an amp in the truck, and it’s gone.”

“Sorry, sweetie, haven’t seen it. Maybe Marcus or Travis know where it is.”

Rebekah asked Travis next. She really hoped Marcus hadn’t been the one to find it. He’d probably give her a hard time for needing it. Travis was helping someone she hadn’t met set up a light panel behind the drums. “Hey, Travis!” she called. “Have you seen a notebook around here? I left in the truck.”

“Sorry, sugar, haven’t seen it.”

“I think Marcus might have it,” the temporary roadie said.

Great.

“What’s the matter, Reb?” Eric asked. He had his snare in place now and was shifting his drums and cymbals around slightly to get them lined up to his preferred specifications.

“Nothing,” she assured him. Her heart was thudding as she approached Marcus, who was connecting wires to a soundboard next to the stage. She really didn’t want a confrontation with the guy.

“Um, Marcus?” she asked.

He glanced at her and then turned his attention back to his work. “What?”

“I seem to have misplaced my brother’s notebook. Have you seen it?”

“Nope.”

He plugged in another wire, and she could tell their conversation was over. She wasn’t sure if she believed him or not. He probably knew exactly where her notebook was, but she wasn’t going to accuse him. The guy already hated her enough.

“Okay, thanks,” she said.

She could probably hook up most of the sound equipment from memory. It was the nuances of Dave’s specific configuration that concerned her. She wanted everything to be perfect for this show.

She wanted to make a good impression on the band. She wanted to prove to them that she could do this job and prove to herself that she wasn’t destined to be a failure in everything she tried.

She got to work. Since Eric was already at his drum kit, she did his sound check first. Within two minutes, Marcus headed over to bitch at her. “You need to get the guitar amps hooked up before you start the drum sound check.”

Even though he was standing way too close to emphasize his height, she didn’t back down. Not an inch. “You do things your way, and I do things mine.”

Marcus stared with his mouth hanging open. She turned back to her soundboard, ignoring him as he stood gawking after her. By the time she had Eric sounding awesome, the crew had the white baby grand piano set up stage right. She worked out a few different mic setups. Eventually, Jace wandered in to help her get the piano acoustics right by playing the intro to “Sever” over and over until she was satisfied with his sound.

“Sounds great, Reb!” Travis called from the stage rigging high above. He was doing something with a laser light and trying to get it lined up with the piano. The shiny white paint would pick up the colors of the light show. Rebekah couldn’t wait to see it in action.

“Don’t blind me while I’m playing,” Jace called up to him.

“Do you mind playing it one more time?” Rebekah said. “I think I’ve got it, but I want to make sure.”

Jace grinned and nodded. The guy was so freakin’ cute with his bleached blond spikes and dark beard stubble. His sweet little smile coupled with the downward cast of his dark eyes had her momentarily befuddled. When Jace’s fingers swept across the keyboard, she snapped out of it.

“That piano intro is awesome, Jace,” Rebekah said as he finished the piece again. “Did you write it?”

Jace flushed and shook his head. “Brian wrote the original as a guitar solo, and Eric adapted it to the piano. I just play it.”

“Does the new album have a lot of piano segments?”

Jace shook his head again. “Just a couple. We weren’t sure how the fans would respond. So far, they seem to like it.”

Eric appeared next to Rebekah. “Understatement. The single is doing better than any in our past. Tripod, you rule!” Eric knucklebumped Jace, who beamed at his compliment.

Jon Mallory wrinkled his nose and kept trying to get the bass line of the song right. Since it wasn’t one of the songs he’d written when he’d been part of the band, Jon had never played it before. Which was quite obvious by the chaotic sounds coming from his instrument.