Country Love (A Billionaire BWWM Romance) (8 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Monique

Leo Williams
looked every inch a security guard, and there were a
lot
of inches, both vertically and horizontally. A massive
light-skinned Black man with more muscles that I knew were possible, he looked
over his mirrored shades at me with an appraising look on his face. Then he
glanced down at his clipboard and back up at me.

I started to
wonder if this had all been a huge mistake on Gil's part. Maybe he had
misinterpreted what Tanner had offered. It wouldn't have been the first time
that my editor sent me on a wild goose chase. I resolved to brazen it through.
"Mr. Brock's team should have received my clearances. My editor faxed over
my insurance papers and all that stuff already."

"You're the
photographer, huh?" he rumbled, his voice as deep as Barry White's.
"Didn't expect you to be..." he paused meaningfully,
 
"...young."

I grinned at him.
"A lot of people find that startling," I said, letting what was
unspoken hang in the air.

He nodded briskly
in understanding and I knew all at once that I had made an important ally in
Tanner's bodyguard. I drew myself up to my full height, which even in heels got
me only as high as his armpit. "Monique Williams," I smiled, craning
my neck to look him in the eye.

"Leo
Willams, USMC retired."

"Nice to
meet you, Leo."

"You as
well, Miss Williams, and may I just say, you're a sight for sore eyes?"

I flashed him a
megawatt smile and he clutched his heart in mock relief. "It's a real
sausage factory around here, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I've heard
way worse, Leo."

"And you're
gonna. These boys? They're a handful."

I flashed to
Tanner's lips and hoped the sallow airport lighting would hide my blush.
"So I hear," I demurred.

"Now, don't
get me wrong now," Leo hedged, holding up palms as big as dinner plates.
 
"Mr. Brock is the best boss I've
ever had. As far as celebrities go, he's a different breed." He smiled,
showing blazing white teeth. "Can't say I care for his music though. I'm
more of a jazz fan."

I laughed.
"You sound like my Daddy," I said.

"Gee
thanks," Leo grumbled, reaching down to grab my suitcases. "She says
I sound like her daddy..." he said to himself, shaking his head as he
lifted all three of my heavy suitcases as easily as if they were packed with
powder puffs. "Showing up here, all of twelve years old, big shot photographer..."

"You sound
like my Daddy again," I called to him. "Talkin' to yourself so I can
hear you."

Leo chuckled and
opened the van door for me. "I'm gonna be taking you right to the venue. The
boys are all set up for a secret show to kick off the tour."

We chatted
amiably on the ride from the airport, but the closer we got to the center of
town, the more my heart jackhammered in my chest.

When I told Tanner
it wouldn't work, it was because I thought there would be no way I would ever
see him again.

And here I was,
about to see him again.

Only problem was,
so were about five hundred other people in what Leo was calling an
"intimate gathering."

I couldn't pin
down how that made me feel, so I tried to talk myself out of my feelings.
This is strictly business; I'm going to be
working this whole time.
I informed myself. But the tingling excitement
would not let go.

But the time Leo
pulled up to the venue, I had worked myself up in to a sweaty dither. My head
was bobbing around on my neck, trying to look everywhere at once.

"Lemme
introduce you to the boys," Leo told me as he led us across the dusty
parking lot to a huge tour bus behind the building.

As I stepped on
to the bus, I pulled my camera from my back and clutched it close. If I was
behind the lens, I was working and if I was working then I could have a prayer
of keeping my cool.

Four white guys
were lounging in the bus, as normal as anything. No reason for me to be as
jumpy as a scalded cat. But no sign of Tanner and that meant that he was all I
could think of. I missed the introductions entirely, laughed when it seemed
appropriate and all the while my mind and body screamed out in unison.
Tanner, Tanner, where the fuck is Tanner?

We tromped into
the VIP section of the venue, a converted barn by the looks of it. When we were
all seated, I leaned over to the longhaired guy on my right and finally gave
voice to my obsession.

"Is Tanner
coming?" I asked anxiously. I felt like I was ready to jump out of my
skin.

"Yeah, he'll
be here." The guitarist shot me a knowing grin and I flushed figuring he
must hear women asking the same question all of the time. I wanted to protest,
that I was different, that I wasn't just another girl who wanted to get at what
Tanner Brock had in his pants, but before I could, the chatter in the place
died down at once.

Electricity
crackled in the air, and my own hair stood up from excitement...or fear...I
wasn't exactly sure. It was like everyone in the club was as one, one single
organism holding its breath in anticipation.

A long shadow
moved across the stage. A tall, broad shouldered man striding across, his
guitar slung over his back, nothing more....

That was all it
took to make the room explode.

I exploded too. I
couldn't help it. I whooped and hollered and shouted his name as he gripped the
mic and stared out into the crowd. The longer he was silent, the louder we
cheered and when the cameras zoomed to project the dimpled smile on his face
onto the big screen, the screams grew higher in pitch. A pair of panties flew
through the air.

"Tanner!
Tanner!" I screamed his name, but was drowned out as the rest of the crowd
took up my chant. "TAN-NER! TAN-NER! TAN-NER!" they screamed, drowning
out my own calls.

"Hey everybody,"
he finally drawled. "Thanks for coming out tonight." He looked happy,
and for some reason, that made me incredibly happy to see. Seeing him this way
after the lonely intimacy of the ranch was like having a wonderful secret.
 
He belonged to everyone else right now,
but those moments at the ranch belonged only to me.

That is, before I told him no.

I clutched my
camera and began to fire off shot after shot, losing myself in my work as
Tanner sang his heart out. I got shots of his face, the way his body curved
around his guitar like a lover, the reactions of the rapt audience and almost
religious awe in the room.

Tanner Brock held
us all in the palm of his hand, squeezing every drop of emotion out of us with
only the power of his voice and guitar. After a long while, I found that I had
lowered my camera and was just watching him.

The song was a
crowd favorite. Everyone sang in one voice and when he ended it with a ringing
chord, the house lights came on and we all cheered.

And Tanner Brock
turned right to me.

Chapter Seventeen

Tanner

We had gone over
the lighting cues in rehearsal, but I never expected it to be so perfect. The
crowd knew every word of "Everwild." Hearing your words sung back to
you...that never fails to lift me up. I looked out on the fans, finally able to
see every individual face with the house lights up, and felt a moment of such
rapture that I could have taken wing right there. And right in that moment....

I saw Monique.

It wasn't a
surprise. I knew she'd be in the audience tonight. But seeing her face so
clearly was a jolt I hadn't expected. She looked at me and I looked at her, and
all the electricity that had been crackling between us before suddenly
unleashed like a thunderstorm overhead.

"Thank you
and goodnight!" I croaked into the mic. "Come backstage," I
begged her with my eyes and bolted for the wings.

Carter and Blake
were already there, clapping me on the back. "Fuck, I think you just put
us out of a job, didn't you?" Carter growled.

"If you're
wanting to start a solo career, just say the word and I'll get the fuck
out," Blake laughed. "You can just mail me monthly checks to make
sure I keep my mouth shut..."

"Hey, shut
up a sec," I barked. "That girl sitting with you, where is she?"

"The
photographer?" Carter asked, with a meaningfully raised eyebrow. "The
one you made us all agree to take on without mentioning the fact that she's
smoking hot?"

"Yeah,
her," I snarled.

"Mo went to
the bus, I think," Blake piped up. I bristled to hear him calling her a
nickname already. "Said something about grabbing her flash?"

Smart girl. I
bolted for the door. "All right boys, guess we're drinkin' in here for a
spell," Carter guffawed.

Dickhead.

Whenever I'm
onstage, I lose track of time. Twenty minutes might have gone by, or a whole
week. I lose myself in the music and when I emerge into the real world again,
it's with the jarring confusion of a man waking from a coma. Or a dream.

But if seeing
Monique Williams outside of my tour bus, biting her beautiful plump lips
nervously, was a dream, then fuck me if I ever wanted to wake up.

I wanted to tell
her how much I appreciated her coming. I wanted to tell her how much I wanted
to set things right between us. I wanted to tell her how beautiful her dark
skin looked in the Virginia twilight. I wanted to write her poetry, set it to
music and play her a love ballad right the fuck now.

But, like an ass,
I said the first thing that came to my mind. "You're here."

That nervous
lipbite disappeared and the steel in her eyes hardened. "Of course I'm
here, Mr. Brock," she sighed, staring me down. "You summoned me and I
had no choice but to come running."

Fuck, how did I
screw this up? "That's not what I meant," I protested. God, I just
wanted to hold her, but now I couldn't touch her at all. "I was saying,
fuck, hello Monique."

Her eyes
narrowed. "Hello Tanner." She exhaled forcefully. "Can I get
some pictures of your tour bus?"

I clenched my
fists. "Strictly business?" I lashed out at her.
 
This was not how I pictured this moment.
It was taking everything I had not to shake her silly, then kiss her until she
gasped.

"While I'm
here
," she shot back, every word
laced with venom.

 
Hearing my own words used against me was
the last straw. In two steps, I had her pinned up against the bus. She yelped a
little, but didn't say anything, only stared daggers at me, holding me
ferociously in her dark gaze. I brushed my fingers up her shoulder, then
clamped my hand around the back of her neck. "Let's fucking try this
again," I hissed. Her mouth was mere centimeters away from mine and at the
rate the blood was collecting in my groin area, I didn't have much more brain
power left. "It's good to see you Monique. I've been thinking about your
body for the past two weeks. Tell me you've been thinking about me too."

"Tanner,"
she hissed my name in a way that got me impossibly hard. "You arrogant,
self-assured son of a bitch...."

"Yeah that's
good baby, let me have it."

"Fuck
off."

"I'll fuck
whatever you want me to."

"Dammit,
Tanner," her voice rose higher. "Why do you have to be so
infuriatingly...."

"Don't yell,
baby, we'll get an audience."

"I told you
not to call me baby!"

I could hear
voices behind us. "Stop yelling!" I shouted, clamping my hand over
her mouth and hustling her up the stairs into the tour bus. "People are
going to think...."

She screamed and
sank her teeth right into the web between my thumb and forefinger.

"God
dammit!" I roared. "What the fuck did you do that for?!"

"I don't
know!" she screamed, her eyes glittering. "I'm scared, okay? Is that
what you want me to say? You want me to fall apart so you can hold me and be
the big strong cowboy?"

"No," I
growled. "I want you to kiss my hand all better."

She froze.
"Are you playing with me?"

"No," I
said, extending my hand. The semicircle bite mark had gone from white to angry
red. "Kiss it better, Monique."