“I guess,” she said.

“You already met Kellen. He’s not so scary, is he?”

A little, yeah, but she shook her head bravely.

“And I’m the worst one of the bunch, so if you can handle me, you can surely handle the rest.”

“I highly doubt that you’re the worst,” she said. Because he was decidedly terrific. And it was hard to top perfection.

“Where have you been?” A muscle-bound hunk in aviator sunglasses spoke from the top of the bus steps. He had short dark hair and an abundance of bulges in all the right places. “If I’d have known you were going to be this late, I would have had Amanda stick around for one more quickie before I sent her home.”

“Caitlyn needed to stop by her friend’s house to pick up some clothes.”

“Who is Caitlyn?”

“That would be me,” Caitlyn said.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

Which was the typical-man’s reaction to her. That’s why Owen’s attention had her completely befuddled and Jenna’s insistence that she was attractive didn’t hold much cotton. As a rule, men tended to ignore her.

“This is our vocalist, Shade,” Owen said. “He’s pretty much an egotistical asshole, but he grows on you after a while.”

Caitlyn couldn’t believe Shade let the insult slide without a rebuttal. Instead he focused on her.

“You’re not planning on her riding the bus, are you?” Shade said. “You know the rule: no chicks on the bus.”

“Fuck the rule,” Owen said. “She’s riding with us to Houston.” He took Caitlyn’s hand and tugged her up the bus past a very confused-looking Shade.

At the top of the steps, she came face-to-chest with another band member. This one was long and lean. She tilted her head back to peer into the greenest pair of eyes she’d ever encountered.

Wow. While she did have a limited gag reflex, she thought choking on her own tongue, as she was now doing, might be fatal. Especially considering the sudden overabundance of drool in her mouth.

“This is Force,” Owen said.

“May the force be with me,” Caitlyn mumbled, lost in Force’s amazing green-eyed gaze.

“It seems we have a problem,” she heard Kellen say from somewhere down the corridor. “She’s been drawn in by the power of the Force. You’d better do something and quick, Tags.”

Owen kissed her, which effectively broke Force’s spell. She smiled at Owen. She wasn’t used to being with a man who was so easy with affection in public, not that she minded.

“Who is this?” Force asked as he tugged his baseball cap lower on his forehead.

“That’s Caitlyn,” Kellen said. “Owen is breaking all his rules with her.”

“All of them?” Force asked.

“Well, hopefully not the “BYOC” rule, but the “only one poke per bush” rule and the “never sleep with the women you sleep with” rule and the “never eat breakfast with a chick” rule and apparently the “no ladies on the bus” rule. Did you break the “never meet her friends” rule too, Owen?”

He cringed and pulled a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I broke that one too.”

“Stupid rules anyway,” Force said. “My name is Gabe, by the way. You don’t have to call me Force.”

“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.

“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 fucking 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 breasts 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.