Free Secrets Collide (Bluegrass Brothers) by Kathleen Brooks Page A

now after seeing a picture of an actress from the number one movie in the theaters in nothing but panties and a bra with a note asking why he wasn’t at her pajama party. Apparently she only wore sexy, mostly see-through underwear to bed.
    Cy gave it a quick glance and then deleted it before pointing to the back of the plane. “There's a bathroom and our luggage is back there, too. Do you want to clean up before we get into town?” Cy stood up as the plane slowly taxied to the hangar at the small private airfield outside of Lexington.
    Gemma didn’t bother to answer as she pushed past Cy, shoved Fred into his arms, and hurried to the back to find her luggage. She was so relieved to change and get cleaned up she didn’t even care that she heard Cy chuckle as she slammed the small door to the even smaller bathroom.
    Gemma looked into the bathroom and realized what she had thought had been bad hair was a major understatement. Her hair was dirty and there were pieces of unidentified stuff clinging to it. Her face was smeared with dirt, dried sweat, and tear tracks. There were dark circles under her eyes and her normally clear eyes were red, dry, and swollen. Not the image she needed to see after that picture on Cy’s phone.
    “Can this get any worse?” Gemma asked her reflection as she reached down to pull off her shirt. Her elbow connected to the door as pain shot down her funny bone. “I guess so,” she mumbled as she battled her shirt.
    Finally, she had managed to toss the shirt onto the floor and turn on the water in the small sink. She looked at the reflection of her jeans and baby-blue push-up bra. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. They were going in twenty different directions at once and she needed all the voices in her head to stop for a while—or at least be narrowed down to just a couple.
    She let her hands fill with cold water and splashed it onto her face. The simple act of washing her face invigorated her. Feeling adventurous, she bent over and splashed as much water as she could onto her hair and ran her fingers through it. It was definitely not up to Hollywood standards, but she felt as if she were ready to face whatever was next.
     
    Gemma kept the window to the pickup truck rolled down as the warm air dried her wet hair. Fred enjoyed sticking his head out and letting his long white hair blow in the wind. “So, why didn’t your friend Ahmed stay around to pick us up?”
    “He’s probably gathering intelligence,” Cy casually replied as he picked up his phone and punched in a number.
    Gemma shrugged and looked out at the countryside as they drove along. A beat-up pickup truck was driving through the middle of a large fenced pasture, tossing out clumps of hay to the horses eagerly waiting in a line nearby. The morning sky was bright blue and dotted with puffy white clouds. The lack of smog seemed foreign to her as she took in the smells of grass and hay mixed into the country air.
    “I’m almost home, Miles. I need your help,” Cy spoke into the phone. “Okay. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes. It’ll be good to see you, too.”
    She saw a slight smile come over his face and noticed it was different from his Hollywood smile. This one seemed real. The others were sexy in a smoldering way, but this one fit him. It softened his dangerous side and, quite frankly, intrigued her.
    “Who’s Miles?” Gemma asked as she rolled up the window.
    “My oldest brother.”
    “How many brothers do you have?”
    “I have four brothers and one sister. Miles is the oldest. He owns a company that helps family farms secure big contracts. He recently married a girl named Morgan. She’s a former lobbyist who's now working as a consultant in Lexington. They’re expecting their first child next year. Then there’s Marshall. He used to own a private security firm, but now he’s the sheriff of Keeneston. His wife is Katelyn. She’s a veterinarian and heir to the Jacks Hotel franchise. They’re