Free Denver: A Bad Boy Romance (FMX Bros Book 3) by Tess Oliver Page A

have a lot to do with the fact that you’re dreamy. Although, I have to admit, I’m kind of missing the motocross pants and boots. And the sheen of sweat, that was a nice touch too.”
    “Maybe someone should create a spray-on sheen of sweat.”
    She tapped her chin in thought. “Don’t know if that would work. I mean, part of the draw is watching a man work up to that sheen. If you just pick up a bottle and spray it on, it’s no better than perfume. Then there is the whole question of where the sweat would come from.”
    I laughed. “All right. I’ll scratch that one off my list of get rich quick schemes. What I came up here to ask you was—would you like to go to Hawaii for three days?”
    She blinked up at me. “Hmm, let me see—warm, sunny beaches, tropical paradise, extremely hot man—” She stopped and squinted one eye in question. “Would there be sex? I mean real good, hardcore, throw all inhibitions to the wind sex?”
    I pretended to consider the question. “Could probably work that in between the snorkeling and sipping drinks with umbrellas . . . oh, and the photo shoots. Part of the deal is I have to pose for more of those stupid ads. But they threw in a bonus by letting me bring a friend or agent as part of the deal. I have no agent. But I do have this incredibly hot neighbor who might be bored without me.”
    “When do we leave?”

Chapter 14 
    Jami
    Denver was nice enough to let me sit next to the window. I stared out at the giant trailer filled with luggage. Airport workers were loading the bags into the cargo hold on the plane next to us. Since we were only going to be in Hawaii for three days, we had both packed just enough stuff to put in a carry-on bag. I’d traveled extensively in my life and had gotten quick, easy packing and trouble-free airport visits down to an art. This, however, was my first trip without Stuart.
    I rolled my face toward Denver without lifting it from the seat. “Do you think he’ll be all right? I’ve never left him alone.”
    “You are talking about your violin, right?”
    “Of course.”
    “The attic is the perfect hiding place. The trapdoor is hidden in the closet. It’s better than a safe.”
    “What if it rains and the roof leaks?”
    “Southern California, remember? It won’t rain.”
    “Fire?” I asked.
    He took my hand. “Stuart is fine, but we can walk off this plane right now and head back home if you’re that worried.”
    “No, you’re right. He’ll be fine.”
    Denver looked over at me. “I know that violin is priceless to you for purely intrinsic reasons, but just how much is it worth dollar wise?” He dropped his head back. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me.”
    “About a million.”
    He stared at the back of the seat  in front of him. “Holy shit.”
    “He’s insured, of course. My mom’s half owner. She wouldn’t care if something happened to him as long as she got a wad of cash in return. But for me, unless the insurance company has a way to give me back a piece of my soul, if something happened to Stuart, my life would never be the same.”
    “Guess it’s a good thing most people wouldn’t have a clue about Stuart’s value. Most thieves prefer taking televisions and computers.”
    “True, to the untrained eye, Stuart looks like some kid’s discarded eighth grade band instrument. But to someone who knows violins—” I laughed. “I once had a man come running across a crowded room when he caught a glimpse of Stuart as I pulled him from his case. I swear the guy pushed this one lady right on her butt in his quest to get a better look. Thought he was going to have a stroke when I let him hold Stuart.” I reached for the backpack I’d jammed under my seat and pulled out the pretzels I’d brought along. I ripped open the package and took one out. Denver declined. I nibbled on it, not because I was hungry but more to occupy myself. Snacking took my mind off of take-off, the one part of flying I