Bo said when they stepped into the room. His hair was wet from the shower and he was wearing fresh clothes: tight t-shirt, jeans and cowboy hat. The scent of his soap permeated the small dressing room, and Sarah had the urge to bury her face in his chest and just inhale his essence. Not weird. Not weird at all. “Thanks for coming,” Bo said, smiling at them. Oh, geez. He was deploying the dimple. “Did you enjoy the show?” Emily thrust her breasts out and smiled at Bo. “Oh yes, it was awesome.” “Good,” he said, smiling with all his white, perfect teeth. Bo turned to Sarah and held out his hand. “Bo Branson.” Sarah simply stared at him for a moment. He was even better looking up close, and damn, it hadn’t been just a stage persona. She swallowed hard as Bo’s large, warm hand closed around hers. “Sarah Kingston,” she managed. His gaze met hers and Sarah felt like a deer caught in the headlights…and about to be mowed down by the Bo Branson tour bus. “Emily Kingston,”
