Denver: A Bad Boy Romance (FMX Bros Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

play. She seemed to be the one person not aware of just how extraordinary she was. She’d already lived a huge life, but none of it showed in her attitude or character.
    Cole tapped my arm. “We’re going to head out so you can walk back home with her. I’m sure you don’t need all of us tagging along. You coming out tomorrow evening for practice? I bought some steaks to grill.”
    “I’ll be there.”
    The crowd around Jami had thinned to just two women. She was signing her autograph on their linen shopping bags. She handed the bags and pens back to the women, and they each posed with her for a picture. I walked over as Jami was taking the money out of the case. She held the violin protectively under her arm and smiled up at me as I neared.
    “Hey, neighbor, how was the fair? I heard they had deep fried pickles. Always wanted to try one of those.” She stuck the last dollar bill in the pocket of her jeans and lowered the violin into the case as if she was tucking a baby into a cradle.
    “ A little ?”
    She glanced up at me in question.
    “When I asked, you told me you played a little.”
    “That’s because there’s always room for improvement.”
    “Improvement? Really? You had every person out here hypnotized. Not sure what type of improvement you’re looking for.”
    She straightened with the violin case in her hand. “So, are you going to buy me a pickle, or what?”
    I reached and took hold of the violin. She released it reluctantly. We walked back toward the line of food trucks.
    “Any other hidden surprises I can expect?” I asked.
    “If I told you them, then they wouldn’t be surprises, would they?”
    “Good point. How long have you been playing?”
    “Started when I was five. Boring story.” She circled around in front of me and stopped. Her blue eyes sparkled under the midday sun. “Just to let you know, when I saw your face in the crowd just now, my heart did this little skippy thing.”
    “A skippy thing, eh?”
    “Yep. Skippy.” She hopped up on her toes and kissed me briefly before dropping back down to her heels. She took hold of my hand. “Might be because you’re kind of perfect. Wait.” She stopped. “A little test to see just how perfect.”
    I raised a brow. “Right out here in the middle of public?”
    “Ooh, your mind went right to dirty stuff.” She licked the tip of her finger and drew a line in the air. “Another point in your favor. And, yes, that part of the perfection test will come later. No pressure, of course.”
    “Nope. No pressure at all.”
    “The song I was playing when you walked up—it came from a movie.”
    “Last of the Mohicans.”
    “Good. You know it.” She squinted her eyes. “But it plays during the kiss scene, the best damn movie kiss scene ever filmed. Do you remember it?”
    “Really? That’s your perfection test?”
    We started walking again. “Already tried the real kiss.” She peered my direction. “That was a ten by the way, especially considering it was in the kitchen over a box of donuts and it still made my toes curl. So you’ve proved yourself in that area, and I know you ride motorcycles and you’re good with tools—still more testing to come in that area—but if you can remember the scene, then it will mean you’re a true romantic, and packages like you always seem to be lacking in that area.”
    “Packages like me.” I laughed. “I think I’m a victim of reverse feminism if there is such a thing. Not that I mind that much. Package is better than some other names I’ve been called.”
    The crowd was thinning out and several of the food trucks were folding up their awnings and shutting down their grills. Jami stopped. “Damn, the pickle cart is sold out. I’ll have to settle for some kettle corn.”
    We bought a bag of popcorn. Jami opened it and took a quick peek over her shoulder. “Feeling kind of paranoid about those vigilante seagulls now. I’ll bet this is just their kind of snack.” She pushed a few