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to fall in love with her cat, not
a man.
    Startled by the thought she jerked her head back to Brock. The heat of a blush crept up her cheeks, burning
them. As easy as it would be, she wouldn't fall in love
with Brock Gentry. He had a way of making a girl feel
starstruck with a single glance, a mere hint of a smile.
Just having him sit here beside her had made her heart
feel all girlish and giddy in a way she'd sworn she'd
grown out of back in high school.

    And yet, his way was so comfortable that he put her
right at ease. There was no pretense, no competition.
    She must have tensed because suddenly the cat
leaped from her lap and ran to the back of the bus,
climbing onto one of the bunks. Josie had sworn that
even though she insisted Dexter come with them on the
tour, she wouldn't let her cat intrude on anyone else's
space. It was only fair. Dex was her security, like a
warm blanket and an old friend, no one else's.
    Holding on to the wall, she made her way to the back
of the bus where the bunks were. She found Dex on a
top bunk, settling in at the foot of the newly made bed.
    "Not here, Dex," she said, lifting the cat off the comforter, his body growing long as he hung from her arm.
"This is where we're sleeping for the next month."
    She placed the cat in her bunk and moved the crate
to her pillow. "Space is sparse, so don't go taking more
than what's yours," she whispered.
    "If that cat starts talking back to you, I'm out of
here," Brock said from behind, his voice deep.
    Josie swung around and found him right next to her.
He held the cabinet above to keep himself steady as the
bus merged into the next lane and just looked at her. He
had magnificent blond hair. Even the crease marks left
by his cowboy hat were appealing to Josie and had her fingers itching to comb through them to make them
smooth again. And she had no doubt his hair was soft
as silk to the touch.

    She was in trouble.
    "Blue suit," she muttered with a sigh, turning away
and moving toward the back of the bus. She needed the
space from Brock and on this bus that was going to be
hard to manage. As she moved down the aisle past the
other bunks, she spied the bathroom and realized that
was the only place to which she could retreat.
    By the sound of his boots hitting the floor, she knew
Brock had followed her. She was trapped.
    "I can wait if you need to go first," she said, turning
around and gazing up at him.
    The engine noise was louder in the back of the bus,
although it may simply be that the talk and music playing in the front drowned out the sound.
    "Is that why you really came back here?" he said, his
voice low and thick.
    She almost laughed. Not because they were standing
there on a bus rolling down the interstate, making small
talk about who should go to the bathroom first, but
because she'd clearly given herself away.
    But she held her composure in check. Josie was good
at that. She could easily hold her distaste for someone
else's music out of kindness as well as she could hold
her emotions in check. Grant had accused her of staying too reserved. But stroking someone's ego just for
the benefit of building oneself up wasn't her style. Had
never been. Somehow, though, she'd slipped and Brock
must have seen the thoughts that had been rolling
around in her mind.

    Someone in the front of the bus laughed loudly, making Brock turn around for a second. Josie used that
moment to collect her thoughts.
    "Hey, if you've got a better reason than using the
bathroom, go for it. I just figured I'd be polite."
    "What does 'blue suit' mean?" he asked, ignoring
her lame attempt at changing the subject.
    Darn! She knew she'd grimaced when Brock's lips
went askew in a knowing expression.
    "Blue suit?"
    "Don't play dumb with me. The first time you said it
in the studio, I figured I was hearing you wrong and you
must have been talking to yourself about something.
But this is the third time I've heard you say that. Blue