Hell Yeah!: Man of My Heart (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The Omega Team Book 5) (4 page)

The two of them alone!

A little shiver danced along her spine at the thought of Caleb Branam living in her house with her, just the two of them. Just his presence had made all her girl parts quiver with need and desire. She’d asked Aron out of curiosity if he was involved with anyone, and the answer was no. He explained how Caleb’s injuries had caused him to retreat from society. In her eyes, his injuries didn’t take away at all from his sex appeal.

But oh god, she wanted it to be more. She also wanted to smack herself in the head for lusting after a man who was supposed to be her bodyguard and nothing more.

Cool it, woman. This isn’t a romance, it’s a business arrangement.

Any minute now he’d be walking in the door. Would he like the furniture she’d bought? Think the house pleasant and welcoming?

Ohmigod! This guy is my bodyguard, not my lover.

But the little devil on her shoulder whispered,
“Oh, no?”

She thought about him so hard, even as she continued to tell the delivery guys where to place everything, that when he appeared in the open doorway, she wondered if he was real or a mirage. Then he walked in, his limp barely noticeable, and she felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air in one swoop.

“They’re just about through bringing everything in.” She twisted her hands together in an attempt to still their trembling. Trembling?
Good lord, was she a teenager? “But your bedroom is all set up and ready for you.”

“Don’t turn yourself inside out for me.” His voice sounded like gravel. “A sleeping bag and a pillow would do just fine.”

“I want you to be comfortable,” she insisted. “It makes me feel better for imposing on you like this.”

His lips curved in a sardonic grin. “It’s no problem. I’m getting paid to be imposed on.”

Of course, and a nice sum to boot. This was a business arrangement, and she should remember that.

She flapped a hand in the air. “Then just think of it this way. I needed furniture for that room and I figured it might as well be good stuff. Let me show you which one is yours.”

The huge central family room divided the house, with the master suite on one side and two guest rooms and a bath on the other. On her shopping expedition with Libby, she had also bought stuff for the bathrooms and fleshed out her kitchen equipment. She’d dropped a bundle at the grocery store, too. She had no idea what Caleb liked to eat, and Aron had just laughed when she asked him. She hoped her choices would appeal to him, because cooking was one of the things she did to relax.

“This is fine.” Caleb followed her into the bedroom she’d set up for him and dropped his large duffel bag on the floor.

“The salesman assured me the mattress is very firm and comfortable.”

Now, why the hell did she say that? The last thing she should be thinking about with Caleb Branam was mattresses. Okay, one of the last things.

He turned toward her, and she got her first real good look at him. The other day, she’d been too busy wondering if she was doing the right thing and trying to ignore the electric current lighting up the air between them. She knew he was over six feet because he topped Caleb by a couple of inches. His dark-brown hair was worn thick and work shaggy. Well, maybe worn that way was a misnomer. More like he didn’t bother much with haircuts.

The word that came to her describing his face was masculine—lean, square-jaw, high cheekbones, rich chocolate eyes that looked at her now with a penetrating gaze. Eyes framed by lashes so thick they’d make every woman jealous. The other day he’d been clean-shaven, but today, his jaw had a shadow of scruff she found way too appealing. Not even the burn scar on one cheek could detract from his utter sexiness. She had to clench her hands into fists to keep from stroking his chin to see if that scruff was slightly rough or silky to the touch.

His body was lean and, even covered by jeans and the plaid shirt he wore open over a black T-shirt, she could see the outline of hard muscles. In a moment of insanity, she wondered how those arms would feel around her, how that body would feel next to her. Then she turned a virtual hose on her hot brain. What was the matter with her? She had a crazy musician after her, songs to write, and a tour to plan for. She had no time for any man, hot or otherwise, especially one hired to protect her.

“There should be plenty of room for your stuff in here,” she told him. “The bathroom is right across from you, and it’s all yours.” Another stupid remark.

He cracked what she could only call a reluctant smile. “I’m real glad to hear that.”

Jasmine shoved her clenched hands in her pockets to keep from reaching out to him.

“Miss Grey?” The voice of one of the delivery guys from the family room snapped her brain back into function mode.

“Excuse me, Mr. Branam. I think the guys are finished and need my signature. Let me take care of them. Then I’m going to fix some lunch, if you’d like something? Anything. I mean, whatever you want.”

Oh, for crap’s sake.
What the hell was wrong with her?

“I’ll be fine.”

If he said anything else, she missed it as she fled the room.

Holy mother
. She was thirty years old, hadn’t been born yesterday or found under a pumpkin, wasn’t a novice in the dating game, and she’d just acted like a shy virgin trying to please the sexiest man she’d ever seen.

Well, okay, Caleb Branam did fit the bill there. But holy shit!

She signed the delivery receipt and ushered the men out, closing the door after them. Coffee, that’s what she needed. Something to shock her bedraggled senses. She was just fixing a cup for herself from the single-serving coffeemaker and thinking about lunch when her new bodyguard walked into the kitchen and leaned on the edge of the counter.

“Caleb,” he said.

Jasmine blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“My name. It’s Caleb. Mr. Branam only in extreme circumstances.”

“Oh!” She pursed her lips. “Good. Caleb. Well, Caleb, would you like a sandwich and some chips?” She pointed at the cutting board where she was working. “I have no idea what you like to eat. I tried to prepare for just about anything.”

He stood close enough she could smell whatever soap he used, some combination of pine trees and earth.
God!
If she had to inhale that all the time, there’d be no controlling her hormones.

“Stop.” His fingers closed gently over her wrist. “A sandwich and chips is fine. I eat anything.” He gave a short, rough laugh. “I’ve been doing for myself for more than a year, so anything you’ve got will probably taste like it came from a four-star restaurant.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” She blew out a breath, wishing her wrist didn’t tingle so much from the press of his fingers. “Have a seat at the table. It’s almost all fixed.”

“I can carry my own,” he told her. “You don’t have to wait on me.”

“Okay. I, um, let’s eat.”

She wouldn’t be surprised if the minute he was alone he called Aron and said his wife was related to a ninny. Nevertheless, she somehow managed to get them and their lunch to the table without making more of an ass of herself. If she could just figure out what to do with this snap and crackle of sexual energy buzzing around them. Did he notice it, too? Or was she just losing her mind, imagining this.

“We didn’t get to talk a lot the other day,” Caleb told her as he washed down a bite of sandwich.

Jasmine shrugged, glad for a neutral topic. “It was more important for you and Carson to be talking. He has all the details and information and knows exactly what he needs from you.”

“I got that.” He stared at her as he chewed thoughtfully, his gaze so penetrating it pierced right through her. “But why don’t you tell me how you got into this business.”

She frowned. “You want to know how I got where I am?”

He nodded. “And why you want it.” He chewed, swallowed, and shrugged. “My social skills are a little rusty right now, so I’m sorry if anything I say offends you.”

“No, no, no. Not at all.” She took a swallow of her coffee, hoping it would steady her nerves and cool off her flaming hormones. They just seemed to ignite when she came within ten feet of this man.
Great. Just great
.

“So let’s have it. Was this your goal in life?”

Jasmine shrugged. “I think so.”

She told him about singing at parties with her cousins, getting her parents to drag her to every country music and country/rock concert and appearance within fifty miles. How she’d bought her first guitar from a secondhand store and taught herself to play. How, at the insistence of her parents, she’d enrolled in the University of Texas at Austin but spent every spare minute looking for gigs at every little hole-in-the wall club in Austin.

She told him about the nights she sat outside by herself, writing music and practicing it. She’d finished college, just as she’d promised she would, then moved to Austin full-time. And after five years of working all these clubs, either fronting for a band or with just her and her guitar, she’d gotten her break the night Carson Wagner walked into The Wagon Wheel.

At least when talking she could shove that attraction into neutral. Maybe she could just talk the entire time they were together.

“There’s just so much competition out there,” she told him. “For everyone who makes it, there are a thousand who don’t.”

“But that was just the beginning, right?” Caleb asked.

She nodded. “The audience can be very fickle if you somehow piss them off, although country music audiences are probably the most faithful and the most forgiving. I worked my ass off doing my best to make sure I didn’t trip over my own feet.”

“So, right now, you’re getting ready for this tour your manager has put together,” he confirmed. “But he wants you in the studio first. Why?”

“The label wants to release the CD just before the tour so they can get the most whammy from it.”

He drank some of his soft drink, and her eyes fixed on the play of muscles in his throat as he swallowed. She bit down on her lip to corral her mind.

“Who decides how the dates line up? I’m asking just because all of this could play into your situation and I want to be prepared.”

“This tour is kind of a mixture.” She crunched a last potato chip. “At the smaller venues, I’ll be the sole performer, with my band. At the larger ones, I’ll be opening for Sweet Dixie again.”

He nodded. Jasmine could almost see the wheels in his brain whirring.

“Carson can get me the figures on projected attendance for each one? And a map of each venue?”

“Yes.” She brushed a few stray strands of hair back from her face. “I hope you know this won’t be easy.”

He snorted. “You know what the SEALs say? The only easy day was yesterday.”

“Sometimes that applies to the entertainment business.” She picked up their plates and glasses and carried them to the sink. “I’m not going to be stupid about this, Caleb. On the one hand, I’m not sure Cobra Mattice is as dangerous as everyone is making him out to be.” She held up her hand when he opened his mouth to say something. “But, on the other, I still have bad dreams about that night in the hotel. That makes me think he could do anything.”

“Especially if he’s angry,” Caleb agreed. “He’s obviously not that stable to begin with, and this could have flipped his switch.”

“Agreed. So I’m going to be a good girl and do whatever y’all tell me.” She rinsed the dishes and stuck them in the dishwasher. “This tour and the album are too important to me not to. Besides, Carson has worked his butt off getting me to this point. I don’t want to do something to ruin it.”

Caleb was quiet for a moment, looking at her as if trying to decide how to ask his next questions.

“What?” she asked. “Whatever it is, out with it. You can ask me anything.”

“Okay. Any significant others hanging around who might get in the way of something? I don’t want to have to get into a pissing contest with some guy.”

Jasmine would have smacked him for his insulting words if the whole thing wasn’t so laughable.

“Every minute of my life for the past eight years has been focused on building my career and writing my music. I don’t have time for anyone in my life.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Not even any dates?”

“Sure, I’ve dated.” She leaned on her elbows and faced him across the island counter. “I like sex as much as the next woman. Is that what you wanted to know? I’m a healthy female. But, right now, I’m too focused on my career for anything else. And meaningless sex doesn’t appeal to me anymore.” She held up a hand, palm outward. “And that’s the end of that topic of conversation. No one for you to tangle with. Next?”

“Okay.” He pushed himself out of his chair to his feet.

Jasmine noticed how he tried to minimize his injured leg. She’d worried about that when Aron told her about him, but she’d been assured he was better than most men with two good legs. She had to trust family.

“Listen.” She rubbed her hands against the legs of her jeans. “I’m going to be working on the material for the new CD this afternoon. I already had a lot of it, but I need at least two or three more songs.”

“Is that common? To have a contract without all the material?”