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“Stop right there. You’re not a burden on me. Please stop saying that. You needed your mom with you in the hospital, and I got her there in the easiest, most efficient way.” I stop and study her while I carefully consider my next words. Shit, I can’t believe I’m about to ask this. She’s so skittish as it is. How the fuck do I phrase it without scaring her away? “Answer something for me.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“If we were married, would you have this much trouble accepting things from me?”

Her hand flies up, landing on her chest, and she stumbles back a step, bumping into the counter. “What?”

I take a step closer. “You heard me.”

“I…uh, I don’t know how to answer that.”

“I’m not trying to claim anything that isn’t mine. Your music business stuff was yours long before I showed up. But I also can’t sit by and say, ‘sucks for you if you can’t afford it’ when it’s easier for me to give you what you need. That’s not the kind of man I am.”

“What if I’m a huge failure and you end up drowning in debt because of me?”

“You’re only a failure if you stop chasing your dreams.”

“What if…” She glances down at her boots. “…if we don’t work out?”

A blast of cold gusts through my chest. Us not working out isn’t an option.

I gently squeeze her shoulders and she lifts her gaze. “If you want me to leave, just say so. I’ll take my toys and go home like a big boy. Promise.”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” she whispers.

Good, because I’m probably lying anyway. I’d never leave her stranded. More like, I’d hire someone to drive her around until the tour was over so she didn’t have to go back to living in the van with the rest of the guys.

Then I’d take my sorry ass home and figure out how to live in a world without the only woman I’ve ever loved.

Shelby

“You’re sure this isn’t too soon?” No matter how much Rooster reassures me, I can’t wrap my head around this enormous sacrifice he’s made. For me. Because of me.

He frowns and cocks his head. “Too soon for what?”

I glance around the space, still so overwhelmed. “For us to…well, it’s like we’ll be living together.”

He continues staring at me. “That’s the point.”

Shoot, I’m not trying to hurt his feelings. “I’m not always sunshine and sweet tea, you know.”

A smile teases the corners of his mouth. “Is that right?”

“Well, yeah. I get crabby when I’m tired. Moody.” I flick my gaze toward the small bathroom door. “Once a month, I go through an intense steak and Ben and Jerry’s binge. Hell help the person who gets between me and my Cherry Garcia.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and ducks his head. His big body shakes with laughter.

“I’m serious.” I’ve never lived with a boyfriend before. I have no idea what to expect or what he expects.

“Are you dipping the steak in the ice cream?” He tips his head and pins me with a half-serious stare. “Because that’s a deal-breaker for me.”

“No.” I shoot him a half-hearted glare. “They’re separate meals.”

“Phew.” He wipes a sarcastic hand over his forehead. “Close one.”

“All right, smart ass.”

His face settles into a more serious expression. “What are you really worried about?”

“I just told you. Living together. Out on the road. It’s stressful.” I glance down at my feet and pick at a thread on my jeans. “I don’t want us to end up hating each other.”

“Shelby.” He sighs and rests his hands on my shoulders. “I could never hate you.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“I’m not always Mr. Charm, either, you know.” He squeezes my shoulder gently. “We’ll make it work.”

“I don’t think I’m a diva but I can be particular about things.”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” He steps closer. “I enjoy all the little things that make you who you are.”

I slide my arms around his waist, leaning against him. “I’m still in a bit of shock. I really do love it,” I mumble against his shirt.

“Good.” He wraps one arm around my shoulders and turns us to face the kitchenette. “I’m going to use the next day or so to make a few modifications before we get on the road. If you think of anything that would make your life easier, let me know.”

I study the compact space around us. Everything looks so perfect. Clearly it was designed to get the maximum use out of every square inch. I can’t imagine messing with it. “What kind of modifications?”

He points to the wall next to the dining table and benches. “I want to install a secret compartment there.”

“Ooo, sounds very James Bond.”

“Not really. Just a place to store our valuables. The dealer does customizations but they couldn’t get it done before we have to leave.”

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