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.She started to close it maybe one day she d be able to see a picture of him without feeling like herinsides were being ripped out, but today was not that day.In the end though, she couldn t help staringat his face all scruffy and scowly and hot, so hot.It should be illegal for any man to look that good,especially when she was a total and complete mess.Again, she started to close it, but that s when she noticed the headline on the side of the picture ofthe first time. Shaken Dirty s Quinn Bradford on love, music, and the proper way to grovel& (youwon t believe your eyes). She couldn t not look.Even as she told herself to put the phone down, to close her eyes, to dosomething anything she had to scroll through.There was no article attached, as the pictures werefrom a photo shoot that was only a couple of days old, but according to the cover pic, these weresupposed to run in the November issue.The second picture had Quinn standing on the back porch at his house she recognized thearchitecture and the view looking out over his land.The third picture was him in his music room,sitting at the piano in nothing but a pair of those ripped jeans that looked so hot.She might have whimpered a little how could she not when he was right there in front of her.Right there.His eyes looked a little sadder than usual, his hipbones a little more defined.But he stilllooked incredible.Sexy.Gorgeous.And it was killing her because she missed him and she loved himand she wanted nothing more than to snuggle up next to him and lick her way down those gorgeous absof his.To take him on that piano bench the way he had taken her just two weeks before.There were three pictures left, and though it was torture, she scrolled on to the next one.As itpopped up on the screen, she nearly dropped the phone.Because it was Quinn, looking dark andbrooding and hot as hell, kicked back on a motorcycle, with one foot up resting on the clutch lever.Itwasn t just any motorcycle, though.It was his Harley.His hot pink, silver glittered, rhinestonebedazzled Harley.After staring at it in shock for a moment, she moved on to the next two pictures, which were also of him and the motorcycle.One of him getting ready to ride it and one of him standing next to it.These were going in Rolling Stone? These pictures of Quinn Bradford, rock and roll sex god, weregoing in the premiere music magazine in the world? Him on a Barbie pink Harley?Her mind boggled.It actually boggled.She scrolled back to the cover, read the headline again.And suddenly it made so much more sense.Love, music, and the proper way to grovel& Were these pictures for her? Was he willing to totallytank his reputation, for her? And if so, what did it mean?She sat there for a long time, scrolling through the pictures another time or another dozen times,but who was counting as she tried to figure out what he was telling her.What this meant.And the only thing she could get out of it was that this was his way of apologizing.Of groveling,though she didn t think it could actually be called groveling when he looked hotter than any man had aright to, ever.And still, she wasn t sure.Still, she didn t know if she was reading too much into the photos simplybecause she wanted to.Simply because she loved him.But she d never know if she didn t ask, right? If she ignored these, if she didn t respond, she couldmess up everything.Or she could end up looking like a fool, with her barely pieced together heart shattered all overagain.It was a daunting thought, a painful one, but as she stared at Quinn on the back of that bike, sheknew she was going to take the risk.Because she loved him.And because she had to try, one moretime.Without giving herself time to think, she sprang out of bed.Yanked on the first clothes she couldfind a pair of jeans and a black tank top then grabbed her phone and purse and ran for the door ofthe small cottage she was renting.It might make more sense to call, but she needed to see him.Neededto look in his eyes so that she could be sure.So that she could know.She threw open the door, planning on making a mad dash to her car, but she never got past thethreshold.Because he was there, sitting on his bike and staring at the door at her like he d willedher to come to him. What Her voice broke and she had to start again. What are you doing here? His grin was lopsided and a little sad, but his eyes were intense and determined and filled with&love? Trying to work up the nerve to knock on your door. How d you know where to find me? Jamison. Of course.Jamison, the double crosser. She didn t want to tell me.I begged her until she finally took pity on me. Her heart beat a little faster at his words [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.She started to close it maybe one day she d be able to see a picture of him without feeling like herinsides were being ripped out, but today was not that day.In the end though, she couldn t help staringat his face all scruffy and scowly and hot, so hot.It should be illegal for any man to look that good,especially when she was a total and complete mess.Again, she started to close it, but that s when she noticed the headline on the side of the picture ofthe first time. Shaken Dirty s Quinn Bradford on love, music, and the proper way to grovel& (youwon t believe your eyes). She couldn t not look.Even as she told herself to put the phone down, to close her eyes, to dosomething anything she had to scroll through.There was no article attached, as the pictures werefrom a photo shoot that was only a couple of days old, but according to the cover pic, these weresupposed to run in the November issue.The second picture had Quinn standing on the back porch at his house she recognized thearchitecture and the view looking out over his land.The third picture was him in his music room,sitting at the piano in nothing but a pair of those ripped jeans that looked so hot.She might have whimpered a little how could she not when he was right there in front of her.Right there.His eyes looked a little sadder than usual, his hipbones a little more defined.But he stilllooked incredible.Sexy.Gorgeous.And it was killing her because she missed him and she loved himand she wanted nothing more than to snuggle up next to him and lick her way down those gorgeous absof his.To take him on that piano bench the way he had taken her just two weeks before.There were three pictures left, and though it was torture, she scrolled on to the next one.As itpopped up on the screen, she nearly dropped the phone.Because it was Quinn, looking dark andbrooding and hot as hell, kicked back on a motorcycle, with one foot up resting on the clutch lever.Itwasn t just any motorcycle, though.It was his Harley.His hot pink, silver glittered, rhinestonebedazzled Harley.After staring at it in shock for a moment, she moved on to the next two pictures, which were also of him and the motorcycle.One of him getting ready to ride it and one of him standing next to it.These were going in Rolling Stone? These pictures of Quinn Bradford, rock and roll sex god, weregoing in the premiere music magazine in the world? Him on a Barbie pink Harley?Her mind boggled.It actually boggled.She scrolled back to the cover, read the headline again.And suddenly it made so much more sense.Love, music, and the proper way to grovel& Were these pictures for her? Was he willing to totallytank his reputation, for her? And if so, what did it mean?She sat there for a long time, scrolling through the pictures another time or another dozen times,but who was counting as she tried to figure out what he was telling her.What this meant.And the only thing she could get out of it was that this was his way of apologizing.Of groveling,though she didn t think it could actually be called groveling when he looked hotter than any man had aright to, ever.And still, she wasn t sure.Still, she didn t know if she was reading too much into the photos simplybecause she wanted to.Simply because she loved him.But she d never know if she didn t ask, right? If she ignored these, if she didn t respond, she couldmess up everything.Or she could end up looking like a fool, with her barely pieced together heart shattered all overagain.It was a daunting thought, a painful one, but as she stared at Quinn on the back of that bike, sheknew she was going to take the risk.Because she loved him.And because she had to try, one moretime.Without giving herself time to think, she sprang out of bed.Yanked on the first clothes she couldfind a pair of jeans and a black tank top then grabbed her phone and purse and ran for the door ofthe small cottage she was renting.It might make more sense to call, but she needed to see him.Neededto look in his eyes so that she could be sure.So that she could know.She threw open the door, planning on making a mad dash to her car, but she never got past thethreshold.Because he was there, sitting on his bike and staring at the door at her like he d willedher to come to him. What Her voice broke and she had to start again. What are you doing here? His grin was lopsided and a little sad, but his eyes were intense and determined and filled with&love? Trying to work up the nerve to knock on your door. How d you know where to find me? Jamison. Of course.Jamison, the double crosser. She didn t want to tell me.I begged her until she finally took pity on me. Her heart beat a little faster at his words [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]