Hard to Handle (21 page)

“You've seen us more than once?”

“Every chance I got. The woman you had was so good, I always thought that you needed a permanent female singer in the band.”

“That'd be Dakota. She's the best.”

Jasmine's hopefulness faded. Did Barberosa plan to settle for second-best then? She forged on. “It wasn't until just recently, after I read an interview about you in a mixed martial arts magazine, that I realized Drew Black had hired you to do music for the SBC.”

“It's a great gig.”

“But you still like live performance?”

He lifted one bulky shoulder. “I like staying real with my roots.”

Then maybe he'd stay real enough to consider hiring her. “The interview also said that you were considering the addition of a female band member.”

Rather than address her point, Barberosa rubbed his chin. “So let me see, you'd be about twenty-two now, huh?”

“Yes.”

His gaze went over her again. “Still a kid.”

“I'm legal.”

One brow lifted. “Barely.”

Fed up, she took two steps toward him and demanded, “What does that possibly have to do with whether or not I'd fit in the band?”

Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, Barberosa pushed off of the wall and came toward her. “You feel the sexual chemistry between us?”

Sexual chemistry? “What are you talking about?”

“You don't feel it?” He gestured between them. “'Cuz it's kicking me in the guts big-time.”

Putting a hand over her pounding heart, Jasmine said, “I had no idea.”

“Now you do.” He came closer—and she found it prudent to back up.

“But…” Heat rushed through her, making her gasp. “We haven't even been properly introduced!” Not that she didn't already know everything there was to know about Barberosa Henry; she'd been admiring him, been infatuated with him, for five long years.

But now she also knew how potent he was in person.

And how his dark-eyed gaze could entrap her when he stared at her in just that way.

It was unsettling—and very exciting.

Somehow, Barberosa caught her hand and stalled her retreat. With his mouth tipped in a crooked smile, he said, “You're Jasmine Petri—I heard that much when you and Roger were getting acquainted. You already know I'm Barber.”

Though he did no more than hold on to her hand, nervousness made her babble. “Barber is short for Barberosa? It's unusual.”
And charming,
she thought. “I discovered your name by asking the bartender that first time. He just said Barberosa, not Barber, so I didn't realize—”

“
If
I made you part of the band,” Barberosa said, interrupting her and retaining his hold on her hand, “you'd have to do a wardrobe overhaul.”

Jasmine looked down at her clothes. “You don't like my outfit?”

He chuckled. “You look like a well-rounded schoolmarm.”

Well rounded. Of all the nerve! Like a slow boil, insult replaced her fascination.

Damn him, she would not take idle potshots at her weight, and she absolutely would not give him the pleasure of getting too upset over it. She brought her chin up and leveled her gaze on him. “Understand up front, I will not be put on a diet.”

Further flustering her, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Enough with the assumptions, doll face.” He carried her hand up to his shoulder. “I wouldn't ask you to change a single thing about the body, just the window dressing.”

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She couldn't even find the wit to chide him on his absurd and unprofessional endearments.

Okay, so while she'd fallen in love with Barber's music, she'd also become more than a little besotted with the man himself. It wasn't surprising, given that every woman in the audience had been ready to swoon at his feet.

Barberosa Henry had a way of singing all lyrics that felt very intimate. His voice was heavy and hard, like the man, but touched with an underlying sincerity that wormed into a woman's heart.

Seeing him in person had only amplified those twitchy feelings. He was tall and muscular, and he oozed testosterone as well as sensuality.

The way he moved, talked—the way he looked at her…

Jasmine had a difficult time getting oxygen into her starved lungs. She eased her hands away from him and took a step back. “Uh, Barberosa—”

Voice low and rough, he chided, “That's an awfully big mouthful, and it makes you sound like my mother.”

“Oh.” His
mother
? Good grief. Of course he had to have one, but somehow she couldn't picture it.

With his thumb, he gently brushed her cheek. “Call me Barber.”

“I'll try to remember.” She cleared her throat. “What type of wardrobe did you have in mind, then?”

Holding her hands out to her sides, he surveyed her body. “It'd be nice to show some skin. And cleavage.” He stared at her chest. “Got a problem with that?”

“No.” She'd simply think of it as a costume. All performers had them.

“Good.” With his hold on her hand, Barber led her to the door. “Then let's call it a night before I make the wrong decision.”

“Wrong decision?”

At her question, he stopped, but kept his back to her.

Jasmine waited, but he just stood there as if wrestling with himself. Finally he looked at her over his shoulder. “I've had three beers.”

“Really?” If there was a point to that, Jasmine missed it.

“I'm far from drunk, but I never leave clear thinking to chance.”

“Clear thinking?” She had no idea what he meant.

Abruptly he turned. “I've got a bad hankering, Jasmine Petri. For you.”

“Oh!” She backed up again.

He remained still, as if glued to the spot. “Thing is, I don't mix business with pleasure. So before I do something dumb, like trying to seduce you—”

He hadn't been trying? Good grief.

“—which I'd probably regret tomorrow when I have to go back to auditions, I figured we'd make a quick exit. You know, remove temptation from my path and all that.”

Incredulity clouded her vision. “You arrogant ass!”

His brows lifted. “Too much honesty?”

Shoving past him, Jasmine said, “You think you can just snap your fingers, and I'd jump at the chance?” She stormed down the hall toward the door leading to the dance floor. “Ha!”

From somewhere close behind her, Barberosa asked, “Ha?”

She looked back at him and said louder,
“Ha!”

“I take it you're not interested then?”

Insufferable egotist. She couldn't believe his nerve. Oh sure, she was interested, but…Best if she kept her feet moving, even as sarcasm won out over tact. “Given a choice between you or a job, I'll take the job, thank you very much.”

Just as Jasmine reached the door, Barber's hand came past her and he opened it for her. That put him far too close, and she shot out into the busy bar.

He caught her shoulder. “Don't rush off mad.”

“Mad?” She sucked in two quick breaths. “I'm insulted.”

“Are you too insulted to still be interested in the job?”

She crossed her arms and, feeling mulish, grumbled, “No.”

“Then can I expect to see you tomorrow, in something more appropriate for a rock band? Let's say here at the bar, around dinnertime. I'll be performing, but I'll make time to give you a listen.”

Her mouth fell open. Never in her life had she encountered so much oddity in one meeting, over one job, from one human being. “Tomorrow? But…I don't even have a room yet. I traveled seven hours by bus just to get here.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

She hadn't come this far just to be rejected over her clothes. “I suppose I could find an appropriate clothing store.”

“I'll call Eve. She's Havoc's wife, and she's got style. She can pick you up and take you out tomorrow morning.”

Again Jasmine's mouth fell open, and she stared at him. “Barber! Don't be ridiculous. I can't ask a stranger to—”

“No, but I can because I'm not a stranger. Trust me, Eve'll be happy to do it.”

Just then a gargantuan man covered in tattoos, dancing with a tall, willowy woman, bumped into them. Barberosa turned, did a double take, and interrupted them.

“Gregor, I need to steal your wife.”

“The hell you will,” the giant said, but he didn't look concerned. He drew his wife to his side and asked, “What can I do ya for?”

Jasmine gaped. She'd seldom seen anyone so big or so imposing. Between the bulging muscles, the tattoos, and some serious cauliflower ears, he looked vicious—but he smiled amicably enough.

The tall woman laughed at her. “I had the same reaction when I first met him.” Then in a stage whisper, she added, “That's why I married him.”

Regaining her wits, Jasmine snapped her mouth shut. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to stare.”

The giant grinned. “S'okay, darlin'. Now that she legally owns me, Jacki doesn't mind so much when I'm ogled.”

Jasmine's face went hot. “I wasn't ogling really, it's just that you're so…”

“Big,” his wife supplied. “Awesome. Imposing.”

The giant preened. “I understand.”

His wife elbowed him and then held out her hand. “I'm Jacki, and the behemoth is Gregor, my husband. If we waited for either him or Barber to do a polite introduction, we'd both die of old age.”

Jasmine took her hand. “Thank you, Jacki. I'm Jasmine Petri.”

“Possibly,” Barber interrupted, “a new member of the band.”

“Yeah?” Gregor looked at her anew. “You thinkin' with the big head, partner, or the one below your belt?” He caught Jacki's elbow when she threw it this time.

She turned on him. “She's not deaf, you idiot.”

Gregor said, “She also doesn't look like she fits Barber's band.”

“Which is where you come in, doll face.” He grinned at Jacki. “Any idea if Eve is still hanging around?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Well, Jasmine here has the pipes and the presentation. But as Gregor rudely noted, the clothes are lacking.”

“Never said that,” Gregor protested. “Just said they weren't in sync with your band.”

“Exactamundo. So, I thought Eve could take Jasmine shopping for more appropriate rocker duds, then I'll take another listen to her tomorrow, so I can, ah, get the whole experience.”

Gregor snickered.

Jasmine wasn't sure if she should slug Barber, laugh at the absurdity of it all, or leave while she still could. At the moment, she couldn't seem to decide.

“If I was the shopping type,” Jacki told her, “I'd offer. But honestly, I suck at the whole girly thing.”

“She does,” Gregor confirmed with a grin. “Shoppin' is one of her least favorite things, thank the heavens.”

“But now Eve…Barber has the right idea. She and Cam, my sister, are world-class shoppers and would love an opportunity to do a makeover.”

“Um, I'm not sure I need an entire makeover—”

“Yeah, you do,” Barber told her. “Leastways to perform with me, you do.”

Gregor snickered again.

Why fight the insanity?
Jasmine thought. She looked only at Jacki and said, “He has such a remarkable talent, it's a shame he's such an ass.”

Jacki never missed a beat. “I know what you mean. Almost makes you feel sorry for him, huh?”

Barber grinned. “I've got a thick skin, ladies. If you want to wound me, you'll need to try harder.”

“You have a very thick head, too,” Jasmine told him. “Maybe that's why the insults didn't sink in.”

“Possibly.” Then he touched her hair. Just that. A single stroke with two fingers, along a curling tress. “Now, about a room for you…”

Jasmine froze.

Gregor lifted both brows.

Jacki rolled her eyes. “Roger's hotel is nice enough, and it's centrally located to just about everything in Harmony. He always has rooms available, too.”

Grateful for the icebreaker, Jasmine nodded. “Thank you.”

Leaning down, Barber told her, “He's the same Roger you already met.”

Wow. “So he has this place
and
a hotel?”

“That's right. He's also a pretty good brother-in-law.” Jacki pulled out her cell phone. “I'll call Eve.”