Riley Sutton can handle anything a pediatric ER throws at her. Screaming toddlers. Panicked parents. Fourteen-hour shifts on a granola bar and bad coffee.

What she can't handle is sixty-three thousand dollars in student loans on a per-diem nurse's pay.

So when a gravel-voiced band manager calls with the strangest job offer of her life— eight thousand dollars a week to keep a rockstar's five-year-old daughter alive and happy on a tour bus— Riley does the math, packs a bag, and flies to Denver. Six weeks. One kid. How hard could a tour bus be?

Then she meets the client.

Declan Cross is the frontman of Cold Western: a voice like gravel and honey, a reputation he's stopped correcting, and walls the size of Texas. He's burned through one nanny already. He doesn't trust strangers around his daughter, doesn't trust anyone who smiles at him for free, and he plans on watching every move the new hire makes.

Riley isn't star-struck. She doesn't melt for the tattoos or the headlines. She shows up, learns the bus, wins over five-year-old Lennon with terrible jokes and steady hands— and starts noticing the man underneath the reputation. The one who reads bedtime stories in a tour-bus bunk. The one who writes songs he never plays for anyone. The one who looks at her like she's a problem he can't solve.

He's her boss. She's the help. There's a contract, a paycheck, and a calendar counting down to the day she goes home to her real life.

Nobody told the tour bus.

As the miles pile up and the lines blur, Riley has to decide whether the life she carefully planned is the one she actually wants— and Dec has to decide whether a man who believes everyone leaves can ask someone to stay.

Because the tour ends in six weeks. What's growing between them doesn't have an end date.

Babysitting My Bad Boy Rockstar is a grumpy sunshine, he-falls-first romance about found family on four wheels, the kid who steals the show, and the love that doesn't care what the contract says. Climb aboard.