Free Country Love (A Billionaire BWWM Romance) by Mia Caldwell Page B

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