Chasing a Dream Read Online Free PDF Page A

worry and vulnerability turned to him, fueling the intuition that lurked in the recesses of his mind. Shoving his suspicions aside, he covered her hand on the steering wheel and brushed her knuckles with his thumb. “But don’t panic, Tess. I’m not a criminal.”
    She yanked her hand away and locked her gaze on the road. “I bet you say that to all your victims.”
    He laughed. “Yep. Every single one.”
    Her scowl expressed her concern, and he regretted his teasing. Once again, her uncertainty pricked his curiosity.
    “So why did you pick me up if you’re worried that I might be a bad seed?”
    She hesitated, then the corner of her mouth curled up. “Your guitar.”
    “Huh?”
    “I figured a serial killer wouldn’t be carrying a guitar.” She cast him a sheepish grin.
    “Then you haven’t heard of the great Nevada guitar murders?”
    Her grin faltered, and her eyebrows snapped together. “What?”
    When Justin grinned again, she scowled at him. “You’re not funny.” But the corner of her mouth twitched before she looked away.
    The slight improvement in her disposition encouraged him. A success, no matter how small, still qualified as a success. Seeing the shift in her mood fed his need to fix her broken spirit.
    “So if you’re headed to Nashville, may I presume that you’re a country musician?” She said the word as if it were something offensive.
    “I take it you don’t like country music.”
    “You’d be right.”
    “What did country music ever do to you to earn such a bad rap?” He crossed his arms over his chest and settled back in his seat.
    Tess gave him an unladylike snort. “Nothing, I guess.”
    With that admission from her, Justin leaned forward to snap on the radio. He scanned the radio stations, under a disapproving glare from Tess, until he found a country station. When he swiveled to retrieve his guitar from the backseat, Tess clicked off the radio. “No, thanks. I’m not interested in a free concert.”
    Studying her profile, he ignored her admonition and took out his guitar. He arranged the instrument, his prize possession ever since Rebecca had given it to him at age ten, and turned the radio on again. This time when Tess reached for the knob, he batted her hand away. She raised a startled gaze to meet his.
    With a growl, she put her hand back on the steering wheel, her teeth clenched. A bouncy Garth Brooks tune came on the radio, and Justin sang and played along, grinning broadly as he watched Tess grimace.
    He belted out the refrain about a long-necked bottle, and Tess groaned.
    “Oh, God. Spare me!”
    Justin chuckled and leaned closer to sing in her face, knowing his actions, no matter how they irritated her, kept her from dwelling on the unknown threat that rattled her earlier.
    She glanced at him and grinned. “Oh, my woman left me, and my poor dog died,” Tess crooned to her own tune in a mocking, off-key howl.
    He continued singing and playing, not only unperturbed, but amused by her teasing. When he sang louder, she matched his volume.
    “My truck broke down. My beer is flat. I can’t find my cowboy hat!”
    His laughter interrupted his duet with Garth, and a giggling Tess pressed a hand to her flushed cheek.
    Warmth spread through him and puddled in his gut. A spark lit her eyes, rewarding his efforts to humor her. When the song ended and a ballad began, he reached for the radio knob.
    Now Tess swatted his hand away. “Wait. That one sounds pretty.”
    Sitting back, he studied her face, and a self-satisfied grin crept to his lips. He picked up the melody on his guitar. The song was a duet, and whenever Tim McGraw sang with his wife, Justin added his voice. Tess glanced at him with the soft glow of intrigue reflected in her eyes. When the song ended, he turned off the annoying car dealership advertisement that followed. “So you approve of country ballads, huh?”
    She shrugged. “Maybe.” She flicked another glance at him. “You have a nice voice.”
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