He chuckled. “Probably.”

Liberty lazily skimmed the razor stubble coating his cheeks, and he suppressed a shudder of pleasure. “Or I’d scuff up my knuckles on this sandpaper.”

Devin let the caress linger, reveling in her simple show of affection. With every gentle sweep of her fingers, he felt that inexplicable pull toward her getting stronger. She fascinated him on so many levels; he’d never met a woman like her before.

“Damn, man. Are you out of razors?”

“You don’t like the scruffy look?”

“Not on you.”

“Shoot. I believed I was lookin’ all hip, bein’ emo and shit.”

She murmured, “You’re too much of a manly man to ever look like a hipster.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Was that a compliment?”

Her hand stilled and their gazes collided. “You don’t need me to tell you that you’re too handsome and charming for your own good, Devin McClain.”

She immediately retreated.

Dammit. Looked like he’d blown it again.

The bus stopped.

Devin watched shamelessly as she bent over to slip on her shoes, hoping for a glimpse of her ass.

Then she whirled around and caught him looking. “Unreal. Are you so hard up for female attention that even I’m starting to look good?”

“Darlin’, that low opinion of yourself sure as hell ain’t comin’ from me.”

“I’m too masculine-acting for you, remember? You’d have no problem keeping it professional between us because you’re not attracted to me in the least, right?”

“Wrong.” Devin caged Liberty against the wall, blocking her retreat.

“But you said—”

“I know what I said. I’ve also admitted that I was an ass and I’ve apologized for that too. I thought we were beyond that.” His eyes searched hers. “Please tell me we can get beyond that.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Remind you that it doesn’t have to be all or nothin’? You won’t even talk to me about any of this. Not even after I’ve been following every one of your damn rules—to the letter.”

“How generous of you to quit f**king groupies night and day.”

“That was my choice, not because of some edict from you,” he shot back.

“And why did you close yourself off from all that easy pu**y?”

“Because none of them . . .” Jesus. He wasn’t giving her the satisfaction of confessing that the women vying for a piece of him had lost appeal after he’d started to become friends with her. “I realized none of them are worth my time.”

“And I am?”

“That’s what I’m askin’ you. Can we move past what was said and done in the last month and start things over?”

A hopeful light entered her eyes before she banked it. “You’re right. We’re both a little stubborn—”

“Ya think?”

She punched him in the stomach—just hard enough to get his attention.

Hard enough to get him f**king hard.

“I swear you are the most exasperating man I’ve ever met.”

Devin grinned. “So that means I’m memorable? Sweet.”

“Move.”

He stepped back. Right before she closed the door to the bathroom, he clapped and said, “Good talk.”

He heard her laugh.

That had to be a good sign, right?

Liberty appeared a couple minutes later, hair fluffed, gloss on her lips, cheeks rosier.

Devin doubted that Liberty the soldier had stopped to fix her hair and freshen her makeup before heading out of the barracks. And part of him would rather see her in dirt and camo than lip gloss and a tailored blouse.

Since when? You’re the one who insisted she blend, remember?

She snagged her stun gun from behind her . . . pillow? When she glanced up, she said, “What?” a little brusquely.

“You sleep with a weapon under your pillow?”

“Yep. I’d keep sleepwalking to a minimum if I were you.”

Two loud thumps sounded on the side of the bus.

Liberty brushed past him and unlocked the door. “Hey, Crash.”

“I want you to know that I had no part in this unscheduled stop. I tried to talk him out of it.”

Traitor.

The rest of their conversation was in low tones, which also annoyed him. Devin stopped at the top of the stairs. Both Liberty and Crash looked at him guiltily. “What?”

“Nothin’. I’m of the same mind-set as Bert. The two of you need to partner up.”

Bert. He f**king hated the nickname his road crew had given her. Bert was a guy’s name. In the last month, Liberty had shown him that she was far from the butch persona he’d initially believed her to be, so the name really grated on him.

Devin braced his hands on the rails and leaned over the stairs. “Crash, do me a favor and stop callin’ her Bert.”

“Why?” Liberty demanded. “You afraid people will think your latest squeeze is a man?”

Devin’s gaze never left hers. “It’s not about me. Bert is a crusty old guy’s name. Liberty is a beautiful name, and it fits you and what you stand for so perfectly.”

Her mouth dropped open.

Gotcha, darlin’. He grinned.

“I don’t wanna know where the f**k that came from,” Crash said. “Anyway, you and Liberty will take a rash of shit for bein’ partners, so I hope you’ve got a good cover story.”