her voice, then he would not get upset if she called him at sunrise.
“Jason.”
She smiled. He didn’t sound as if he’d been asleep. “This is Greer,” she crooned.
His soft chuckle caressed her ear. “Good morning.”
“That it is.”
“What are you doing up so early?”
“I could say the same about you,” Greer countered. “I thought musicians stayed up all night and slept all day.”
“Not this one. In fact I don’t get enough sleep.”
Greer had no comeback. She didn’t want to ask if it was music or women that kept him up. “You wanted me to call you,” she said instead.
“Yes, I did. I want to know if you’re willing to block out some time for me to record your voice.”
“What do you intend to do with the demo?”
“That’s something we will have to talk about.”
Shifting on the rocker, Greer pulled her legs up into a yoga position. “I’m free this morning.”
“Are you working tonight?”
“Yes. I have to be at the restaurant between four and four-thirty.” She went in early to set up the buffet station.
“I can pick you up in thirty minutes. Does that give you enough time to be ready?”
Greer wanted to tell Jason that she was more than ready—ready to find out all she could about his friend and neighbor. If Chase hadn’t been so shadowy or standoffish, she would’ve attempted to get close to him directly.
“Yes. Do you know where my uncle’s house is?”
“Yes. I’ll see you later.”
Disconnecting the call, Greer felt as if she’d scaled one hurtle. The next one would be to uncover who Chase was, what did he do and where did he go whenever he disappeared for weeks at a time.
* * *
Jason maneuvered up the paved driveway to Bobby’s house, slowed and parked next to a classic red pickup truck. He turned off the engine and got out of the Range Rover, unable to take his eyes off the restored vehicle. He heard the sound of a door opening and glanced up to see Greer come out of the house. She looked deliciously alluring in a white man-tailored shirt, low-rise black jeans and matching high-heeled leather booties that made her legs appear even longer. He stood there, unable to move, tongue-tied. Slowly, seductively, his gaze slid downward from her face to the sensual curve of womanly hips before reversing itself.
She rested a hip against the porch column. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
The dulcet sound of Greer’s voice shattered his entrancement. “Yes.”
“Johnny B. Goode II is my uncle’s pride and joy.”
Jason frowned in confusion before he realized Greer was talking about the truck. “It’s exquisite. Nineteen fifties?”
She smiled and nodded. “A 1956 model to be exact. Uncle Bobby bought it from a farmer who’d shattered his leg and couldn’t depress the clutch. It took my uncle more than ten years to restore it.”
“I’ve never seen him drive it.”
Greer came down off the porch, while he openly stared at her approach. He repressed the urge to reach out and run the back of his hand over her face to see if it was as velvety as it appeared. He’d admitted to Danny that he was Greer’s man but that was a lie. A falsehood. If circumstances were different, that could possibly become a truth. Jason had worked with a number of female artists since taking over as Serenity’s musical director, but he’d never crossed the line with any of them to mix business and pleasure.
“That’s because he usually keeps it garaged.” She touched the hood. “I learned to drive on this baby.”
“So you like driving a vehicle with a manual transmission.”
“I like control.”
Her statement told Jason everything he needed to know about Greer Evans. “Control,” he repeated softly. “What about compromise, Greer?”
She blinked. “What about it, Jason?”
He leaned closer, their noses nearly touching. “Do you ever compromise?”
Greer smiled, bringing his gaze to linger on her lips. “Only when I’m not offered an alternative.”
Jason didn’t know her age, but she looked incredibly young with her scrubbed face and ponytail. His mouth curved into an unconscious smile. “Then I must make certain to offer you an alternative to what I’ve planned for our future venture.”
“You’ve already planned my future when I’m not sure where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing three months from now?”
He inclined his head. “I apologize for being presumptuous. Now, let’s leave.”
* * *
Greer went completely still. She did not want to believe Jason had offered a backhanded apology while issuing an order in the same breath. Exhaling an inaudible breath, she had to remind herself that she had been given a directive to identify those buying and selling illegal firearms, and that she’d become an actress in a role wherein she could not afford to break character.
Earlier this morning after logging on to the government-issued laptop, she’d typed Jason’s name into a classified database and had come up with hundreds of Jason Coles. She’d narrowed the search with Serenity Records, transfixed with the data. Greer knew his date of birth, middle name, the schools he’d attended and net worth. She also had to remember, whatever role she assumed, Greer couldn’t afford to succumb to what she knew was the total package for any normal woman. Jason was tall, dark, handsome, sensual and charming, and a few other adjectives she wouldn’t permit herself to acknowledge.
Gathering information on Charles Bromleigh had proved less fruitful. There were other Bromleighs who had a penchant for naming their sons Charles. However, the Charles she sought did not exist. It was as if he were a ghost, a specter. He was there, yet he wasn’t. It would’ve made Greer less suspicious if she’d found a file or fingerprints on him that were classified. The fact that he presumably didn’t exist had only strengthened her resolve to go after him.
Turning to Jason, she forced a smile. “I just have to get my bag and car keys, and I’ll be right back.”
Jason caught her wrist. “We’re going to take my truck.”
Greer stared up at him through her lashes, garnering the reaction she sought when his jaw dropped. Yes, she was flirting with him. “I don’t want to put you out when you have to drive me back.”
Jason shook his head. “Greer,” he said softly. “Remember I’m the one asking you to do me a favor, not the other way around.”
Whenever he said her name, it came out like a sensual growl. The first two letters began in the back of his throat while the next three were barely audible. “You’re right. I still have to get the keys to put the truck in the garage.” Even when she drove the truck to Stella’s, she parked it in the garage on the premises. “May I have my hand back?” she asked him. Instead of letting go of her wrist, Jason raised her hand, dropping a kiss on her knuckles.
“Of course you may.” His fingers slipped away, releasing her delicate wrist. He winked at her, and she returned it with a sassy smile.
Jason leaned against the bumper of the pickup emblazoned with black letters from the song title of one of his favorite rock-and-roll artists, watching Greer walk back to the house. He doubted if she knew just how sexy she actually was. It wasn’t just her face and body but also her body language. It was why the men at Stella’s couldn’t stop themselves from touching or brushing up against her.
He’d