“Can’t believe this is finally happening,” Logan says.
I reach over and lay a hand on his arm. “You should be proud. You rocked this, babe.”
He meets my gaze before pulling forward. “You know, I am. I don’t think I’ve felt this proud since before I took off my uniform for the last time.”
“Did you happen to keep that uniform? I mean, I’m just asking because ...” I shoot him a wicked smile. “I like the idea of role-playing with my soldier.”
He gives me a sharp look. “Marine, and don’t you forget it.”
I salute him. “Got it.”
Logan pulls up next to a fancy tour bus and parks. We both climb out of the cab of the truck, and a man in ripped jeans, a black T-shirt, boots, and a shredded baseball hat comes toward us.
“I haven’t been this excited since I was sure my folks got me a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas. I’m dying to see her.” He pauses and looks to me. “I’m Boone Thrasher.”
“Banner Regent. Nice to meet you. You’re going to love the car.”
“I know. Let’s get her out.”
Logan smiles as we walk around the back of the trailer and unlock the doors. A few more people dressed all in black, who I assume are roadies, join the group around the trailer.
The rear end of the red-and-black car gleams in the sunlight.
“Holy fuck.”
“Wait until you see the rest of her.” Logan hauls out the little ramp things that will be used to drive the car out of the trailer.
“I can’t wait.”
Logan fishes the keys out of his pocket. “You want me to back it out?”
Boone shakes his head. “No, I got it. I’ve done this a time or two.”
“You screw it up, that’s on you.”
I’m honestly shocked at how blunt Logan is with him, but then again, I can’t blame him either.
“Ten-four, brother. No worries.”
Boone jumps up into the back of the trailer, swearing as he runs his hand along the paint job. When the ramps are in place, Logan yells to him to fire it up.
The engine roars to life, and over the sound, I can hear Boone laughing. Everyone holds their breath as he backs it out of the trailer and down the ramps.
I’ve been so busy watching what was happening in front of me, I didn’t realize all the press crowding around us until the click of camera shutters catches my attention.
Now it makes sense why Boone wanted to be the one to back it out. He may look like a simple country guy, but he’s savvy with the press.
When the Olds 442 is parked on solid ground, Logan finally breathes again.
Boone revs the engine, laughing like a crazy person. “This is so fucking badass!”
When he finally turns the engine off, opens the door and climbs out, he throws both arms around Logan. “Amazing, man. You killed it. The shifter knob with my logo. The paint. The interior. It’s just like you drew it. I can’t even fucking believe it.”
“Glad you like her. She’s a beauty.”
“She’s a snarlin’ beast and the baddest bitch to ever roll off a trailer. I can’t wait to get her onstage. This show is gonna be epic. The car, the new single, and my surprise.”
I don’t know what surprise Boone’s talking about, but apparently he doesn’t want the press to know about it either because he doesn’t elaborate.