How could I forget the way he looked at me with those eyes? The way he smiled when I blushed? I’d never forget those things. Something told me I’d never forget Abel Kincaid. He’s not who I thought he’d be. Sure he has that cocky swagger but it seems to come out when he’s trying to hide his vulnerability.

I looked around the bus. I’d checked it out thoroughly early this morning. I made sure things were in order before he got here.

“Your mail is sorted and in the top drawer.” I pointed to the end table between us.

“Anything I should be aware of?”

I lowered my legs and leaned over to open the drawer. Inside were three piles. I pulled them out and handed him the junk first.

“Best I can tell is this is junk.” Our fingers touched when he reached for the largest of the stacks. Heat coursed through me. If Abel Kincaid thought I’d be safer in his bus, he was sadly mistaken. I was likely to succumb to heart failure each time he graced me with a look. Any look would do it.

He flipped through ads from magazines to cigars. “Looks like you figured right. These are trash unless of course you’re interested in anything from The Love Shop.” He slid the adult store ad from the pile and handed it to me. On the front cover was an ad for a dildo and a pair of a assless chaps. “I think I’m good but thanks for your consideration.”

“No problem. I want to make sure you're a satisfied employee.” He tossed the mail on top of the table between us.

I squirmed in my seat, which didn’t go unnoticed. I had a feeling Abel noticed everything. I grabbed the second pile. There were only five envelopes inside.

“These are obligations I thought you’d want to get on top of.” My eyes shot up to his when I spoke. My choice of words could have been better. I wasn’t choosing them on purpose, but everything seemed to take on heated, sexual innuendo with Abel. “One is about your guitar strap. Three are from various vendors asking about special requests.” I pulled the last one from the pile and held it into the air. “This one is from the florist asking if you wanted the same flowers delivered this year.” I knew they were flowers for his dead girlfriend. That was the whole purpose for me being here. The anniversary of her death was approaching soon and his team didn’t want him going off the rails while he was on the road. “I’m really sorry for your loss by the way.”

He looked down at the letter and shook his head. “You ever listen to her music?”

I shook my head. “I can’t say that I have. Until I got hired for this position, I hadn’t listened to yours, either. I remedied that last night. You’re quite talented.” I wanted to crawl into the crack between the chair frame and cushion. Of course he was talented. He was an award winning singer and songwriter.

“She was really special.” He sat and looked forward. His profile showed a face used to hiding emotion but I saw the slight tension in his jaw. Maybe talking about his loss would help.

“What was your favorite song of hers?”

He picked up the remote control and turned on the television. Then he pulled his phone from his pocket and loaded up a Deb Tyler song called “You Get Me”.

“She wrote this song for me. It’s my favorite because she did get me and yet … she left.”

What was I supposed to say to that? I leaned over the arm of my chair and set my hand on top of his. He looked at me with curiosity. “I know you don’t want me here, but I am here and I want you to know that anything you say to me stays with me. So … if you want to talk to someone I’m available.”

He didn’t acknowledge me with words but with actions. He turned his hand over and cradled mine in his big palm. We sat there holding hands for several minutes while the song played. My heart provided a strong beat to the lilting melody. The words rushed through my brain.

When it was over, he turned the volume off and put on the news.

“You know a bit about me, Gia. Tell me something about you.”

I let go of his hand and felt the immediate loss of his touch. Abel had a spark of energy that surrounded him and when I got close enough, it did things to me, including muddle my brain.

“There’s not much to tell. I work for Arm Candy.”

He gave me a curious look. “So who else has been the recipient of that smart mouth of yours?”

The way he looked at my mouth made me tingle from my lips to my core. I pressed my thighs together trying to ease the ache between them.

“Oh … I’m not a girl for hire.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean, obviously I am, but not in that capacity. I’m the girl who sits behind the desk and answers the phone. You kind of got cheated. Mr. Hopper’s request came last minute.” I lowered my head, “He said you wouldn’t care what I looked like.”

Abel’s eyes grew wide. “So they sent me the best looking woman they had? I’m one lucky bastard.”

“I don’t care what people say about you. You are pretty sweet even if you’re a fibber.”

He slipped to the edge of his seat. “Fibber? I don’t lie. You are stunning Gia.”

I waved my hand at him. “You’re too much.”

“I saw you in front of my gate and I wanted you. When you looked at me with those eyes, I nearly came in my jeans.” His hand went straight over his lips. “Sorry. Workplace hazard. I get in the bus and all filters are off.”

“You thought I was a groupie.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t do groupies. Hell, I haven’t been with a woman in a long time, but you make me want to change that.”

“You’re very sweet, but it’s not necessary to flatter me with kind words. I’m here to do a job and I’ll do it whether you’re nice or not.”

He stood up and sat on the coffee table in front of me. “Let’s not get confused here. I’m not sweet, but my words are truthful. The thoughts I’m having about you right now are anything but sweet.”

Was it possible to climax from a man’s voice? A quiver raced down my spine and lodged in my core.

“Like I said, you’re not my type.” I turned my head to look out the window. Maybe roadside trash and highway signs would suppress my desire.

His hands touched my knees, and I groaned. How was I supposed to not want him when he surrounded me with his presence and now his touch?

“Is that why you’re clenching your thighs? Why your nipples are hard as rocks and begging for me to suck and bite them? Why your panties are probably wet with desire?”

I looked down at the space between my legs hoping that my yearning couldn’t be seen. There was no hint of my attraction to him except maybe the blush I knew was on my hot cheeks.

“You’re terrible.”

“Yes, but in an oh-so-good way.” He flattened his palms on my knees. “Deny it.”

I looked at him. I loved everything about Abel from his messy hair, to his beard, to his large calloused hands. “I can’t. I do find you attractive but that doesn’t mean—”

“It means everything.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I’d never kissed a man with a beard, but I loved the way it tickled my skin. When his tongue pressed at the seam of my lips, I was too weak to not respond.

Hell, I was sure a thousand girls had kissed those lips. Why not me too? I wouldn’t let it get any farther than a kiss. A kiss crossed the line of appropriate employee/employer behavior by a long shot, but a kiss was something I could recover from. When his tongue touched mine, and my body ratcheted up its need, I knew I was in big trouble. This was no simple kiss.

I’m not sure when it happened or how it happened, but somehow I ended up in Abel’s lap. He held me like I weighed nothing and kissed me like I was special. Like somehow my kisses were golden nuggets he wanted to collect and keep.

For a brief second, I pulled away. He opened his eyes, and all I saw was raw passion. I wanted more. He wanted more, but it wasn’t wise.

“We really shouldn’t do this.”

He threaded his fingers through my hair. “You’re wrong.” He nipped at my lower lip. “We should definitely do this.”

I shook my head, but that only made his whiskers brush against my cheek. “I work for you. This isn’t right. It’s a conflict of interest.”

He bit my lower lip. Not so hard that it hurt, but hard enough for me to feel it all the way to my toes. “You don’t work for me. You work for Felix. No conflict.”

His hand lowered to my arm and his thumb brushed across the swell of my breast. When it grazed over my nipple, I moaned. There was no denying my attraction to him. I was a hot-blooded female alone in a bus with a bad boy musician. That fell somewhere at the top of most women’s bucket lists, but my list was prioritized differently. I pulled away.

“I really need this job.” If this went bad, there was more than my next orgasm at stake here. I wiggled out of his lap and stood. “I’m sorry, but can you get the bus driver to stop? I want to ride on the other bus. It will be for the best.”

Abel let out a huff of breath. He stood and walked to the partition that separated the driver from the rest. “Let’s stop at the next pull in,” he told him.

He faced me. “This isn’t over. Just over today.” He tugged me to his chest and held me. I couldn’t remember a time when I felt so vulnerable and yet so safe.