When Rex and Quinn hire a chef to come on tour with the band, Beau Trudeau finds a welcome distraction in quirky Gigi Somerville. She's not his type at all, but she's fun to have around, and she's sort of growing on him...
If Gigi wants to start the business she's worked so hard for, she needs something big to happen. When the members of Hank Lemon and the Law contact her to cook for them during their summer concert tour, she's elated. Not only is this a dream opportunity, when she meets Beau Trudeau, she realizes she can kill two birds with one stone. He's the perfect guy to foist her unwanted virginity upon before she has to go back to the real world and fifteen-hour workdays. He's scorching hot but, even better, he has no interest in a relationship. In fact, he's so perfectly wrong for her, there's no chance of her actually falling for him...
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Breaking Beau by Chloe Cole
Five days later, bags packed, Gigi waited for the bus to pick her up. The butterflies that had been camping out in her belly for the last few days kicked up a huge fuss as the behemoth vehicle came around the corner, right on time.
She grabbed two bags and lugged them to the curb, leaving behind several others and a cooler in case the refrigerator wasn't big enough for all the food she'd purchased. She was all prepped to walk in and focus one hundred percent of her energy on cooking. Maybe it would keep her mind off the fact that it was going to be her and Beau all alone for a day and a half on that bus.
Beau had been staying at his fishing cabin in the Florida Keys, so the band had decided that he would swing by and get her in Tennessee on his way north. Then they'd meet up with the rest of the band in New York to play their first show of the tour. After that, there would be ten more shows with almost nonstop travel back down the East Coast. In spite of constantly reminding herself this was just work, she couldn't suppress the feeling that she was embarking on a great adventure.
The door folded open and Beau came down the steps to meet her. His hair glowed like a burnished halo over his head, but the grin was all devil. She resisted the urge to swipe a hand over her mouth to check for drool.
"Hey there, girl. Looks like you got a lot of clothes there for just two weeks. I woulda never took you for that type."
His puzzled gaze traveled over her jeans and polo shirt and she tried not to cringe.
"Your first instinct was dead-on. I'm not exactly what you'd call a fashion plate. Most of this stuff is cookware, then some staples for the next few days. It's heavy, so be careful," she warned as he bent low.
He hoisted up one of the largest boxes without even a grimace. His biceps bulged and she had to look away for fear of grabbing hold of one and squeezing. This nonsense had to stop before it started. He was so far out of her league it was as if they weren't even playing the same sport.
Her gaze returned to him just the same, and she watched as he boarded the bus. She grabbed a bag and followed. She was so taken with his rear twitching as he walked, she wasn't watching where she was going. A terrifying, one-armed, windmilling second later, she was sprawled out over the steps, on top of a bag that had both sounded and felt suspiciously like a carton of eggs.
"What the-- Are you okay?"
She craned her neck up to see that Beau had abandoned his box and was bent over her, his face tight with concern. If she had three wishes, she would have used one in a heartbeat to have a do-over of the previous ten seconds. Her knees throbbed where they'd connected with the metal steps and her face burned in abject humiliation.
"Damn it, Gigi, answer me. Did you break something?"
"My eggs," she muttered miserably.
"Your eggs? You mean..." His eyes went a little wide as he struggled to make sense of her words.
"No! I don't even--no. Like, eggs. From chickens."
He stared at her for a long second and then flashed his dimples. "Well, that's all right then. We can get more of those at the store. Come on, let me help you up."
She pushed herself onto her knees and winced. Beau took her elbow and guided her to her feet. Sparing a glance at her ruined shirtfront, she groaned. Judging by the carnage, she'd managed to land on the entire dozen. Gloppy whites mixed with runny yolks, saturating her top.
Beau stared at her chest intently until she cleared her throat. "Um, I gotta change."
"Sorry, I was just thinking, from this angle it kind of looks like one of those abstract, artsy-fartsy paintings."
She laughed in spite of her embarrassment. "If you're nice, I'll frame it for you."
"I'm always nice."
His voice had gone low and ran over her like an intimate caress. She stared up into his true-blue eyes and tried to think of a response. Jesus, he was beautiful.
He stepped back and released her arm abruptly. "Besides, usually I get panties thrown at me, so this will be an interesting change of pace."
"Come on, let me show you to the bathroom. There's clean washcloths under the sink. You can throw on one of my t-shirts for the time being until you get your stuff unpacked. I'm going to finish loading the bus then clean up this mess."
"I can clean it," she protested. She'd already caused enough trouble and it was only her first day.
"Just get washed up. You'll have plenty to do with unpacking all this stuff and making me a gourmet meal tonight."
The eggs had started to coagulate and were sticking to her stomach so she nodded then followed him into a bedroom. He rifled through the drawers and tossed her a shirt. He pointed to the bathroom then headed out to get the rest of her bags.
"I'm really sorry for the inconvenience, Beau."
"It's not your fault, girl," he drawled, a wicked light blazing in his eyes. "Women tend to get wet when I'm around." He stepped off the bus, but his low chuckle trailed behind him.