A Bleu Streak Christmas Read Online Free

assessment. She’s no more than an inch or two taller than Jewels and
that ain’t saying much being Jewels is five foot nothing. What this mystery
woman lacks in height, babe makes up for it in body. That sweet little figure
has the fine lines reminiscent of the classic curves of a vintage electric
guitar—a tight waist progressing into lush hips.
    “Hot dang. Life just got a whole lot
more interesting, boys,” Max mutters as we all take in the new view.
    It’s only then that I notice vaguely
that the rest of the group minus Dillon is gathered at the back of the SUV.
    “Who’s our new friend, Jewels,” Max
hollers out. The whole crowd of us makes quick work of eliminating the distance
between us and them.
    “Guys, this is Elizabeth Walker, our
new tour assistant, and she answers to Izzy.”
    An enticing blush warms her creamy skin
as she takes a step behind Jewels. This beauty seems a bit too skittish, making
me wonder what Jewels is thinking.
    “Hey, gorgeous. I’m Max,” my brother
says a bit too boisterously, causing the poor chick to retreat another step
behind Jewels. Trace pops him in the arm in warning, but Max just looks at him in
confusion.
    Oh man. This is going to be
interesting, for sure.
    Jewels introduces the rest of us
quickly, before grabbing up Izzy’s arm and leading her back to the kids and
then into the jet.
    Scratching the side of my neck, my eyes
follow Izzy’s retreating form until she disappears inside completely.
    “Is she mute?” Blake asks from behind
me. I didn’t even notice him joining us.
    “More like scared out of her mind,”
Trace retorts.
    “She’s just star struck,” Max says.
    They keep tossing their opinions as we
help unload the bags and hand them over to the crew to stow in the plane. My
opinion is that this chick is going to be fun to figure out.

 

 
 
 
    Chapter
Four

 
 
 
    I zzy
    The
buttery softness of this massive leather seat does very little to welcome me to
my adventure. My nervous fingers fumble with the seatbelt until it fits
snuggly. Horrible thoughts automatically kick up the obvious— how in the heck is a seatbelt going to do
any good if the plane goes down? Ugh!
    “Can you breathe, little lady?” Logan
asks.
    I glance up and find him watching me
from the other side of our shared table. I have a four hour flight with Logan
Hot-stuff Carter facing me. Oh my. He’s grinning at me, stealing said breath.
My face warms and nerves hold my voice hostage, so all I can manage is a slight
head nod.
    This feels like some surreal dream. Not
only am I jet-setting in a luxurious flying hotel suite—creamy-white leather
and glossy warm woodwork—I’m also surrounded by the hottest band in the
country.
    Raucous laughter steals my attention
from beside us. It’s a four person seating arrangement and the flight attendant
seems to be glued to it, too. I don’t blame the girl one bit. The four
occupants are Trace, Max, Mave, and Will. It’s a very attractive grouping. Jewels
and Dillon better have plans in place for keeping a bodyguard leashed to their
son. Will is an exact replica of his dad—jet-black hair, blue eyes that glow
purple, and heartbreaking dimples. That teenage boy is going to be dangerous
with all of those Bleu genes he’s inherited.
    The thought—Bleu genes—has me
snickering louder than I intended, which draws the good looking groups’
attention. Embarrassed, I avert my eyes to the small circular window to my
left. Big mistake. This big ole jet is taxiing down the runway without so much
as a warning. I think I’m going to be sick.
    Logan must sense this, because his warm
hand wraps on top of mine that is braced white-knuckled to the edge of the
table.
    “Breathe, little lady. All’s good.” Mr.
Mellow croons this out, but I’m still close to freaking out. Logan Carter is
touching me!
    I take that deep breathe he advised,
reminding myself he has a fiancée and is just offering me some friendly
empathy.
    “First time