The Closer You Get Read Online Free PDF

time, she tiptoed to the refrigerator, grabbed a soda and turned to see
three of the band members filing inside.
    “Get up, Bud,” Pat said as he approached the couch. “We need to
leave ASAP because Bull’s got a craving for a double cheeseburger.”
    “Screw you, Pat,” Bud growled.
    Rusty cleared his throat and nodded toward Cammie. “We forgot
there’s a lady on board. Guess we’ll have to tone down the language.”
    Cammie leaned back against the kitchen counter and smiled.
“I’ve heard a lot worse. In fact, I’m sure I know some of the rankest jokes this
side of the Mason-Dixon. Bud can attest to that. He told them to me.”
    “Did not,” Bud said, straightening to put his boots back on.
“She told me.”
    Typical Bud, teasing her like the big brother she’d always
wished for. “Liar.”
    “You’ve got to be lying, Bud,” Pat said. “I can’t believe
anyone with eyes like that would even know a dirty joke.”
    “I resent that,” Cammie said. “Just because I’m a woman doesn’t
mean I can’t handle a few off-color jokes now and then. You boys have a lot to
learn.”
    Bull scratched his head. “I can tell.”
    “Where’s Brett?” Rusty asked.
    “Still inside the coliseum,” Cammie said, not bothering to hide
her disdain. “It seems he’s tied up with a female fan at the moment. He informed
me he needed half an hour to do whatever.”
    “Don’t sound so surprised, Cammie,” Bud said as she returned to
the living area. “You’ll be seeing this every now and then.”
    Her scorn came out in an acid look aimed at Bud. “Oh, really? I
hope he practices safe sex. And I hope he can work jail into his schedule
because this particular little blonde groupie looked to be a minor.”
    “You don’t have to worry about Brett,” Rusty said. “He’s real
careful about things. And she’s got to be of age. That’s the rules.”
    Rules. How nice. Perhaps she could see a list of the rules in case she might be required to screen Brett
Taylor’s women. That would be a really frigid day in hell. Four weeks could be a
very long time if she had to tolerate this kind of behavior. Of course, she
didn’t expect him to live like a monk, but she’d never approved of
indiscriminate sex. And like so many people, she had once held performers in
very high esteem. But through painful personal experience she’d discovered they
were imperfect, just like everyone else. She’d honestly hoped Brett Taylor was
somehow different. Wrong again.
    The guys soon left to board the other bus, with the exception
of Pat, who dropped down onto the chair opposite the sofa and crossed his legs
at the ankles. He gestured toward the space next to Bud. “Take a load off,
Cammie, because this could take a while.”
    She’d rather wait outside, but out of the need to prove she
could handle all aspects of life on the road—the good, bad and questionable—she
claimed a place on the couch.
    “I know what you’re thinking about Brett,” Pat began. “But this
hasn’t happened in a real long time. Sometimes a man just needs someone to
hold.”
    Cammie sipped the soda, hoping to alleviate the bitter taste in
her mouth. “I’m sure that’s true, but I’d think road sex would get old.”
    “Like I said, it doesn’t happen very often,” Pat said. “Right,
Bud?”
    “Right. Brett usually stays to himself while he’s touring. He’s
never been the same since—”
    Bud and Pat exchanged a look but remained silent.
    She couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Since what, Bud?”
    “Should I tell her?” Bud asked when Pat failed to speak.
    “Might make things easier to understand,” Pat said. “As long as
she also understands it can’t go any farther than this bus.”
    Could the conversation be more confusing? “You can trust me to
keep my mouth shut, so just spill it.”
    Bud shifted several times in his seat as if the whole subject
made him uncomfortable. “Brett was married once a long time ago. They were