Read Whirlwind Love: Libby's Journey for Free Online

a glint of a thrill in his gaze as he studied her face. “A philosopher and a photographer…now, that’s an interesting combination. Am I gonna hav’ta guess your name?” he smiled.
    “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Libby Morgan.” Just as she said her name, a horn blared behind her as a beer truck rolled past. Libby’s feet involuntarily stumbled toward the SUV and the man with the beautiful eyes. Embarrassed, she looked down to find Joe’s other hand on her arm as he’d pulled her away from the truck and into his body. The carry-on bag was on the ground.
    He smiled a very disarming smile, “Careful there...you’re too pretty to be a speed bump. So, what else does Daddy say? Have mercy but you smell good. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything so sweet.”
    As he steadied her, he released her hand without taking his eyes off hers.
    “When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one and a lily with the other,” she smiled uncomfortably under his gaze.
    He laughed, “Sage advice. We were hurrying to run through some songs, if you want, you’re welcome to take some pictures before the place fills up. Hey, I can’t wait to see what you come up with...later. You’ll share ‘em, right?” His smile completely knocked Libby off her game—if she had game, that is.
    “My pleasure,” Libby whispered, her eyes locked on Joe’s. Clearing her throat, she responded, “I hope they’ll be worth...sharing.” Joe smiled as he picked up his bag. As the three walked back into the bar, Joe placed his hand on the small of her back, leading her into the dark room.
    Libby wasn’t used to being nervous around people. No man had ever affected her in such a way. She stepped toward the back of the room, walking around as if she were looking for angles in the room, but in reality, she was trying to compose herself.
    “Get a grip, girl!” she tried to convince herself. By this time, Chuck strapped his guitar on again and began fingering the strings, while Joe turned on the microphones. She heard them mumbling as she sat in the chair she occupied earlier, forcing her breath to steady and willing her heart to stop racing.
    Chuck played the beginning chords, as Joe turned to the microphone and began singing a slow song in his delicious southern drawl. After a few seconds listening, she turned on the camera, stepped deliberately in front of them and fired. Libby quickly became so caught up in shooting, she forgot to be nervous.
    There was a definite connection between Joe and Libby, and the camera was telling the story. As she moved around the room, his eyes followed her. Movement behind Libby as bar staff came into the room distracted her for a moment. Someone turned on stage lights, while another moved a ladder under the lights. After adjustments, the lighting man walked to the back of the room to check his handiwork. Libby took advantage of the ladder and climbed a few rungs. She focused the camera and shot several pictures. Joe gave her a sly grin but kept on singing. His mood seemed much lighter than his first impression. For several songs, Libby photographed the brothers at different angles and in different lighting as the technician continued his task.
    Occasionally, Chuck and Joe stopped to talk with one another, but Libby kept shooting. She turned around and shot the staff at times. When one of the bar crew gave her a funny look after a shot she took of him, she smiled graciously, “just having fun…you don’t mind, do you?”
    One of the waitresses brought several beer bottles to the stage. Joe laughed, thanked her and helped himself. Chuck took a bottle and drew a long sip, then put the bottle down beside his amp. The waitress brought Libby the third bottle. She thanked her and took it. She took a sip and set the bottle down on the table. Libby didn’t really care for alcohol, but she didn’t want to be rude.
    As the crew moved the ladder from the floor, it occurred to Libby how the