work and to prove her naysayer of an editor wrong. Toni wasn’t waiting to start until after Butch decided what to do with her. She was starting now.
Resolve strengthened, Toni headed off the bus to stand next to Butch and observe the members of the band as they made their way from the back door of the stadium to the tour bus.
Butch started when he noticed her standing next to him. She straightened her shoulders and pushed her glasses up her nose. She wasn’t going to let some big dude intimidate her. She’d be plenty intimidated when she met the four famous rock stars who were headed in her direction. Make that five rock stars. She’d completely forgotten they’d hired a new rhythm guitarist, Reagan Elliot, to tour with them for the year. A group of yellow-T-shirt-bedecked escorts walked several steps behind the four tattooed hunks and the exuberant woman in their midst.
“This is so much fun,” Reagan shouted, hugging the nearest member of her band, who happened to be lead guitarist Dare Mills. Or maybe her choice of huggee hadn’t been accidental. The man was exquisite. What woman wouldn’t want to hug him? Or more? Toni’s face flamed as ideas about what more might entail flitted through her thoughts. Not that she’d actually ever experienced more. But she knew what it involved. Somewhat.
Dare squeezed Reagan and added an affectionate kiss to the top of her head. “You did great tonight,” he said. “The fans already adore you. Aren’t you glad you loosened up a little?”
“I’ve been loose my entire life,” she said, which garnered a round of sniggering from her new bandmates. Reagan paused midstride and beamed at the black and red tour bus parked just behind Exodus End’s silver and blue bus. “Sinners haven’t left yet. I’m riding with them tonight!” She hugged each member of her band, grabbed one hunk of a security guard by the front of his T-shirt, and raced toward the other bus with the chuckling man in tow.
“Your brother is one lucky guy,” Steve Aimes, the band’s drummer, said, watching Reagan bound up the bus steps of the band that was co-headlining with them on the tour.
“So is her bodyguard,” Dare said with a grin.
Toni perked up. She knew Dare’s brother was the rhythm guitarist for Sinners, but she hadn’t heard that Trey Mills was involved with Reagan Elliot. And what was this about her bodyguard? Was Reagan involved with two men? At the same time? Because who in their right mind would cheat on a man as luscious as Trey Mills? Toni bit her lip, reminding herself that she wasn’t here to dig up scandals—and what a scandal that would be—but to create a book that made readers feel that they knew the real men behind Exodus End’s rock star personas. And she was pretty sure these guys were used to behaving a certain way for the cameras. Surely it would take a while for them to trust her enough to be themselves in front of her. That was fine by her. It wouldn’t exactly be a tragedy if she had to spend extra time getting to know them.
Lead singer Maximillian Richardson paused just outside the bus. He had dark brown hair cut in a trendy style, with messy locks on top that begged to be clutched as he used his strong lips on parts below a woman’s neck. Max’s striking hazel eyes made Toni’s toes curl as he looked her up and down. He shifted his gaze to Butch and lifted his eyebrows at him.
“I thought we said to keep the bus empty tonight. We have to head out immediately.”
“She’s the one writing a book about the band,” Butch said. “Sam said he told you about it months ago.”
“Book? What fucking book?” Max’s face fell and then his eyes widened with apparent remembrance. “Shit,” he said, raking a hand through his hair and messing it even more. “I forgot all about it.”
“What’s going on?” Dare asked.
All four of the men were staring at Toni as if she were the flesh-eating space alien. She pasted a hopefully friendly smile on her face and pushed her glasses up her nose before thrusting her hand toward Dare for an introductory shake. Not that she wasn’t already shaking. She totally was.
“I’m Toni Nichols. The publisher hired me to write the book.”
And perhaps there was a little nepotism at work in the arrangement, but so what.
Dare didn’t seem to notice her hand. He was too busy