Manhandled: A Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 2) by Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott Read Free Book Online Page B

said you like boring jobs.”
    His brows furrowed. “I like order.”
    I smiled for the first time since he’d arrived. “Oh, honey…you’re going to hate me.”
    That jaw thingie flexed again and he tipped his chin up, peering down at me like I was a puzzle to solve.
    I held out my hand. “Faith Keystone, by the way.”
    He tucked his phone back into his pocket and took my hand. “Quinn Alexander.”

8
    Quinn
    I dropped her hand as soon as I could without being rude. Her grip was surprisingly strong and warm with multiple rings on every finger. But not all at the base of her knuckles. Some at the top joints, some in the middle, some traditionally set.
    All of them slim and gold in an array of symbols. Her nails were short, and painted a deep red that reminded me of my favorite California merlot.
    She wore white cutoffs that barely grazed her thighs. A red tank top hugged her body, covering the shorts so only a few inches at her legs showed. She wore a purple shirt that fell off one shoulder and skimmed a few inches below her breasts. Her feet were bare, with more flashes of gold there too. Gold hair was piled at the top of her head in that magical way that women had.
    She didn’t look twenty-nine, thanks to her lack of make-up.
    Oh, and she was stunning.
    As if this job didn’t suck enough.
    I’d seen photos during my research on the plane. Objectively beautiful in every damn one of them, but in person? Photos had nothing on Faith Keystone in the flesh.
    I’d already decided she was going to be nothing but trouble the moment I’d walked through the door—her house was a security nightmare. Five egress points from my quick count on the exterior of her house, not to mention a shit-ton of windows that I could climb through without even ducking my head.
    Inside was even worse.
    Anyone with a couple hundred dollars could watch from across the hills. Binoculars, a high-powered rifle scope, hell…even a telescope from a bordering house could do the job.
    Security hell.
    I’d tried to ignore her as I’d gone through the house. She just kept following me. Noah couldn’t keep her busy, for fuck’s sake?
    And now I was the one trailing after her.
    I’d checked out the last of the guest bedrooms, saving her sanctuary for last. I understood that everything about me was intrusive—necessary, but ultimately I was going to have a hand in changing her life. Usually not for the better, in a client’s eyes.
    I’d walked into her domain and swallowed hard. I’d caught it earlier, but now her scent wrapped around me. Peaches—fresh peaches. The kind my mother cut up to jar this time of year.
    Christ, where had that thought come from?
    It had been ages since I’d helped her with canning. Not since I was a boy. It was a scent that meant summer was ending and cool nights were on their way.
    I pushed those thoughts back. I needed to concentrate and get the lay of the land—make sure she understood just how things were going to be from now on.
    Out here on her patio was much better.
    The lemons and the fresh air from the trees helped. The skyline had the familiar haze of California smog that was prevalent this time of year. All of it grounded me again.
    Protection detail was my specialty, but it had been a very long time since I’d had a woman as a client. The fact that she was so important to Noah was another layer I had to come to terms with.
    I met her gaze. She didn’t break the stare—in fact her shoulders straightened and she stood a little taller. There was an innocence in her huge eyes that didn’t belong to someone who had been in the music industry for over ten years. There was fear too—probably because of me more than anything—but, she needed to hear the hard truths.
    Maybe if she was afraid, she’d actually make my job easier.
    I sat on the bench. “Can you sit for a minute?”
    She licked her lips as she twisted a slim ring on her thumb. “All right.”
    “I’d like to call my contact over at Carson