Page 14 of Her Ruthless Protector

“Who are you talking about?” Kane asked.

“The choir, over there,” Asher pointed.

“Where’s our contact?” Kane wanted to know. “Don Salise was supposed to meet us at the entrance twenty minutes ago. He has both of our cell numbers, and nothing. He hasn’t picked up when we called. Seems like a bust.”

“I don’t know, but we’re definitely getting a lay of the land,” Asher pointed out as they stepped over a bunch of cables that attached to spotlights pointed at one of the side stages. “Hopefully we’ll get to see last year’s winner, but it’s Reka, who’s doing the presenting that I want to meet,” Asher said. His voice was hopeful.

Kane shook his head as bagpipes and an electric guitar mingled with a trombone that grated worse than nails on a chalkboard while Asher spouted nonsense about people he couldn’t care less about.

“I hear they’re going to be filled to capacity,” Asher said.

That caught Kane’s attention.

“You have to be kidding. There is no way thirty-four-thousand people will cram their asses into the heat of this stadium to watch this train wreck.”

“He’s not kidding.” A laughing redhead said as she appeared in front of them. Her face was devoid of make-up, but she didn’t need it. The dark auburn strands made her laughing blue eyes glow. “This is bigger than our Super Bowl.” She smiled again. “Can I help you?”

“We’re here to see Don Salise,” Kane answered.

“He told me about the potential issues,” she said vaguely. “Why don’t you follow me to my trailer, and we can discuss specifics.”

“And you are?” Kane asked.

She laughed again. “Sorry, I forgot. I’m A.J. Lancaster. Don is the producer and I’m just a lowly executive producer. But it’s my job to herd the cats.”

“Wait a minute, are you telling me that executive producer is below producer?” Kane asked.

“Yep,” she answered with a smile. “Don’t expect anything to do with show business to make sense.”

“Good to know. It’s kind of the same thing with us,” Kane said. “I’m Chief Petty Officer, Kane McNamara and this is Petty Officer First Class Asher Thorne. Don’t let the Chief fool you, we’re still lowly enlisted men.”

“It’s nice to meet you, gentlemen. Let’s get to my trailer so we can get down to business.”

“Herding cats, huh? Sounds like you’re the one with the big job,” Kane said as he and Asher followed her across to a motorhome. He fell back a half a step on purpose so that he could check her out. She was taller than most of the women he was used to. She was wearing worn blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a pink cartoon shark logo on the front. What the hell was Baby Shark? However, he did approve of the biker tactical boots she was wearing. He’d spotted at least ten women wearing heels on grass—with a ridiculous amount of construction site hazards, the boots were nice to see that despite the cartoon shark, A.J. had some sense.

When they got into her trailer, she sat down at the miniscule kitchen table and waved them into the other seats.

“Uhm,” Kane started as he looked dubiously at the teeny tiny seating. “I don’t think we’ll fit.”

She laughed. It was the kind of laugh that made you want to join in. In this little space he was even closer to the pretty redhead and he saw a smattering of freckles across her nose. They were adorable.

“You’re right, what was I thinking? Python is the only one I tell to go sit on the couch. He’s an older music producer who has kind of let himself go,” she said diplomatically.

“We saw him,” Asher said. “He’s working with a new group this year?”

“Yes, Heaven’s Demon Dream.”

“Where the hell do they get names like that?” Kane demanded. “What’s more, what was with all those girls hanging off him? They’re not actually providing sexual favors to have him manage their group, are they?”

A.J. threw up her hands. “Hey, I’m not the morality police. First, let’s get very clear on this point. They are women, not girls.” Her blue eyes narrowed as she continued. “Second, one of those women is in her thirties.”

“You’re making that up,” Kane said.

“Nope. Here’s the third point, not that this is any of my business, but I happen to know they were one of the hundreds of groups that chased him down. And lastly, we don’t know what is going on in his trailer behind that closed door.”

“Still—” Kane began.

“Don told me you’re both Navy SEALs, right?” When Asher nodded, A.J. continued. “Are you telling me that some women don’t try to get into your pants because of your job?” She crossed her arms across her chest.