Page 112 of Whirlwind

“Are you serious?”

I held up my hand to my mouth and fake whispered: “Beck is my guy.”

As if on cue, Beck lifted his head, his gaze found mine and his lips curved into a grin. His eyes darted to the tatted hunk of macho next to me, and his bright gaze shuttered like a window slamming closed. His jaw pulsed.

I put a hand on his shoulder. “Beck, this is Walker. He’s from the States. He’s a fan of Freefall.”

“Huge fan. It’s awesome to meet you.” Walker stretched out his hand to Beck.

“Thanks.” They shook hands.

“I can’t believe this. I just saw you perform in Lisbon.”

“Oh yeah? That was a great show.”

“It was. I tried getting tickets for Paris, but it was impossible. This is so crazy.”

“You’re blushing, Montana boy,” I quipped.

“So, you two…know each other?” Beck asked.

“No, we just met. Walker’s traveling alone. He’s from Montana, would you believe?”

“Oh yeah?” Beck’s gaze darted at me and back to Walker. “Cool.”

“Why don’t you hang out with us?” I gestured to an empty chair. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks.” Walker sat down, and I grabbed him a fresh beer from the center of the table and joined Beck on the sofa. Walker drank from the bottle. “Violet, were you on the tour with Freefall?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Right, you were working for demanding daddy.”

“Bingo. So when do you leave for home?”

“At the end of the week. It’s been a hell of a trip.”

“I’ll bet. I’ll bet there were a hell of a lot of women.”

His eyes narrowed as he put the empty beer bottle on the table. “Only one was a highlight.”

“Oooh.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Back to reality soon enough. Time to trade in the bathing suit and flip-flops for the suit and tie.”

“What kind of business is it?”

“Drill components, that sort of thing.” He wiped at the edge of his mouth.

“Fracking?”

He met my gaze. “Yeah. We got out of that when the going was still good.”

“Smart. Drill components aren’t your thing?”

“I’m trying to find what my thing is exactly.” He drained his bottle.

“Other than women and traveling?”

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