“Do you like Star Wars?” Caitlyn blurted stupidly.

“Star Wars is for geeks,” Gabe said, one slim eyebrow arched at her.

“Oh,” she said, her face almost in flames it was burning so hot.

“I love Star Wars,” Gabe said. “Which episode is your favorite?”

“Return of the Jedi.”

He shook his head at her. “The Empire Strikes Back.”

“Oh my God, who scheduled a geek convention on the tour bus?” another rock-star type asked.

This one was dressed in black from his biker jacket to his tight T-shirt to his jeans to his motorcycle boots. Even his hair was unnaturally black—probably died to match his shoes. His only non-black accessories were the collection of silver chains he wore around his neck and dangling from one belt loop.

“That’s Adam,” Owen said.

“So Shade is the vocalist, Kellen plays guitar, Owen plays bass, and Gabe is the drummer.” Caitlyn did a quick mental inventory. “That must make you… the keyboardist?”

Adam did not look amused. More like offended. Was there something wrong with the keyboard? What other instruments were played in a rock band? She’d once heard a flute in a Led Zeppelin song. She was proud of herself for remembering.

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“I know,” she gushed, “you play the flute!”

Everyone burst out laughing, except Adam, who looked even more out of sorts than when she’d accused him of playing keyboard.

“No, I don’t play the f**king flute,” he said. “I’m lead guitar.”

“But…” She pointed at Kellen. “I thought Kellen played guitar.”

“He plays rhythm guitar.”

She didn’t know the difference. “You have two guitarists? Well, three, if you count Owen’s bass?”

“That’s right.”

“Why do you need three? Isn’t one good enough?”

“She doesn’t listen to rock music,” Owen explained.

“Then why is she here?” Adam countered.

“Hmm,” Owen scratched his jaw. “Probably because she doesn’t listen to rock music. I felt she needed an education.”

And she’d very much enjoyed the education he’d given her about guitarists’ fingers. Her gaze dropped to Adam’s hands and then darted to Kellen’s. Long fingers. All of them. She was sure they were callused and swift as well. Caitlyn really wished Owen would stop making her blush. She hadn’t blushed this much when she’d been a bride and fallen off a pier in her wedding gown after having one too many to drink.

“Speaking of education,” Owen said, turning his attention from Adam to Gabe.

Oh God, he wasn’t going to mention her morning lesson was he? She’d die of mortification if he did.

“Guess what she has her degree in?” Owen said.

Caitlyn blew out a relieved breath.

“Based on the size of her rack, I’d say cheerleading,” Gabe said.

Caitlyn glanced down at her chest, which was straining against Jenna’s too-tight T-shirt. “Despite popular belief, big boobs are a liability for a cheerleader. They throw off your center of gravity, get in the way of your pom-poms, and jiggle around until you get one hell of a back ache.” She hopped up and down to demonstrate.

All eyes settled on her chest. As far as br**sts went, she wasn’t overly well-endowed, but they did move when she did.

“Where’s that jacket of yours, Caitlyn?” Owen asked. “It’s a bit chilly here on the bus.”

She glanced up at him, not sure why the sparks of jealousy in his eyes were so endearing.

“Everyone ready to go?” a man in a white Stetson said from the front of the bus. He settled behind the driver’s seat and the door swung shut.

“Head on out,” Shade said. He brushed past the group congregated in the seating area near the front of the bus. “I’m going to catch a nap. Amanda kept me up all night, so I’m beat.”

Caitlyn assumed Amanda was his wife or girlfriend. She didn’t want to pry, so she didn’t ask. Shade disappeared behind a curtain that concealed his bunk near the back of the bus.

“So if you weren’t a cheerleader, what was your major?” Gabe asked, his brilliant green eyes alive with interest.

“Don’t make me say it,” Caitlyn said. “I’m supposed to pretend that I’m cool today.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Owen said, “like you, Gabe went to college to be a career geek. But we kidnapped him and chained him to a drum kit.”

“Were you a physics major?” Gabe asked, his eyes wide.

“With a chemistry minor. My master’s is in mechanical engineering.”

Gabe insisted she tell him all about her current projects in fuel cells. She didn’t give him too many details since they were working on a new prototype and you never knew if your competition just happened to be a drummer in a rock band. But Gabe was apparently ravenous for cerebral stimulation, so she shared what she could. Owen seemed content to listen to them talk.

She and Gabe eventually got into a highly competitive game of backgammon. None of his band mates would play with him. With the exception of Shade, who was evidently a heavy sleeper, they all cheered her on to beat their drummer. Even Kellen, who seemed sullen today, and Adam, who was slow to warm up to Caitlyn, got in on the competition.

“Kick his ass, baby,” Owen said. “He gloats for days every time he beats someone.”

“Which would be every time I play,” Gabe said, rolling the dice and getting a pair of sixes. Again.

“I think his dice are loaded,” Caitlyn complained.

“I’m just lucky.” Gabe winked at her. She lost her train of thought for a moment. The physics majors in her class hadn’t looked like him. If they had, she wouldn’t have been fooling around with her English professor.

Gabe hit another of her pieces and lifted it from the playing field to sit it on the bar in the center of the board.

“Damn it.”

At this rate, she wasn’t going to get a single piece into her home base. It was impossible to make it across the board when she was spending all her time re-entering her captured pieces.

“This is why no one ever beats him,” Owen said. “He’s an offensive player.”

“I definitely find his playing offensive,” Caitlyn said.

The guys laughed, and she flushed again.

By the time they reached Houston, she was completely at ease in the presence of Owen’s band mates. And she’d even managed to beat Gabe in one out of their three games, which made her some sort of hero, especially in Adam’s eyes.




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