The Closer You Get Read Free Page A

try-to-resist-me
look.
    “How long will you be visiting?” Brett asked with a smile that
exuded sensuality and a hint of amusement.
    “She’s not a visitor,” Bud said quickly. “She’s my sub until
Jeanie has the baby.”
    In those few moments following Bud’s declaration, Cammie felt
certain, as her grandfather always put it, you could hear a fly spit. No one
moved, much less spoke.
    Brett’s smile faded. “You’re going to drive my bus?”
    “Yes, I am,” she said with more confidence than she felt at the
moment.
    “All by yourself?”
    Cammie found that utterly insulting. “Unless you plan on
helping, but it might get crowded with both of us in the driver’s seat.”
    The guys laughed, which seemed to irritate the star. “What kind
of credentials do you have to take this on?” Brett asked.
    “She’s good,” Bud said. “I’ve been with her when she’s driven.
She can handle it. She’s been on the long haul.”
    Cammie tried not to choke on the lie. True, she’d driven a bus
most of her adult years for her grandfather’s Tennessee charter company, but
only on jaunts from Memphis to Nashville or Knoxville with chattering seniors,
not a superstar stud among them.
    Feeling the need to defend her skills, Cammie went into
spontaneous résumé recitation. “I hold a commercial license with a passenger
endorsement and I’ve been driving tour buses since I was barely in high school.
Contrary to popular belief, women are quite capable of getting in and out of
tight spots, handling dipsticks, even the human variety—”
    Bud discreetly pinched her arm to silence her. “I’ll guarantee
you’ll feel safe and sound with Cammie,” he said. “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll
come back early.”
    Brett didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “I’ll take your
word for it, Bud. But if she screws up, then we’ll call you.” Without further
comment, he headed down the aisle without even a backward glance.
    “She’s starting immediately,” Bud called after him. “That okay
with you?”
    “Yeah,” he muttered before disappearing into his quarters and
closing the door behind him.
    Cammie massaged her throbbing arm, then turned and kicked Bud
in the shin, drawing laughter from the other men.
    He winced and scowled. “Why the hell did you do that?”
    “Because that pinch hurt, dammit.” She unclenched her fists and
rubbed her fingertips across the indentations her nails had left in her palm.
“Not to mention, your boss obviously isn’t too thrilled with my presence.
Forty-five feet isn’t a lot of room if you’re spending weeks on the road with
someone you don’t like or trust.”
    “Don’t sweat it, Cam,” Bud said. “Just give him some time to
get used to the idea. Besides, he’s probably in shock because you didn’t try to
tear his clothes off.”
    “That’s true,” Rusty said. “If you ignore him you’ll get along
just fine. He gets tired of all those girls crying and falling at his feet.”
    Bull stretched his legs out in front of him and sighed. “Hell
of a life.”
    “And take my word for it, Cammie,” Pat said. “After two days
with this group, you’ll learn to hate us, too.”
    Cammie grinned. “I doubt that.”
    She also doubted that she would ever rip Brett Taylor’s clothes
off in some fit of uncontrollable lust. Yes, he was unbelievably gorgeous.
Incredibly tall. Great body with a gifted voice to match. She’d learned the hard
way that the facade didn’t make the man. It could be oh-so-easy to fall for the
image without ever knowing what you were getting beyond the external packaging.
Brett Taylor was just that—a package deal. A carefully conceived commodity,
marketed, promoted and sold daily like prime stock. How well she knew that
concept.
    So why all the effort to catch her breath when he’d looked at
her? Not too late to turn and run.
    Ridiculous. She refused to be blown away by this particular
kind of man. Been there, done that and didn’t plan to ever