Blue Shoes #1: New Adult Rock Star Erotic Romance (Morris Music Book 6) by JJ Knight

worry about the Music Mayhem pictures of Dylan.
    Fans are always throwing themselves at him. This chick probably ambushed him and stuck her lips on his cheek before he could shove her away.
    I must not overreact. I’ve been wrong before, about photos of him kissing other women. There was this one time he had his arm around a drag queen, and I freaked out. After the smoke cleared from our giant fight, it was pretty funny.
    The drag queen was a guy named Zero, and he did make one very beautiful woman. The photos were from a fundraiser I didn’t attend, back before Dylan and I were officially together. I’ve actually met Zero a few times since then, because he’s a friend of Dylan’s MMA fighter buddy, Colt McClure.
    As I run around my hotel room getting ready for the day ahead, I smile at the memory of meeting Zero. He loved hearing that I’d gotten jealous over him, and he teased me mercilessly.
    This photo of Dylan with some blonde at the Avalon is just a repeat of that. I can’t torture myself with thoughts of Dylan cheating on me, or I’ll be a total wreck.
    Besides, I have enough things to deal with here in Rome. For one thing, all the suits I brought are too attractive. I wish I had something more like a burlap sack, so those gross old Italian executives would stop slobbering over me.
    * * *
    After our meetings at Deluca are finished for the day, Chet insists on taking me shopping.
    “You need a new purse,” he says as he waves for a taxi.
    “I’m not really a purse girl,” I say. “Let’s buy some jeans, and I’ll stuff whatever I need into my pockets.”
    “No. You have to get back on the horse.” He holds open the taxi door for me.
    “Chet, have you even ridden a horse before?”
    “What do you think?” He slides into the back seat next to me. “Oh, you think that because you’re Miss Country Bumpkin, you know all about horses and I don’t. Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret. That’s one thing rich people and country people have in common. We all took riding lessons when we were kids.”
    I snort. “Riding lessons? Please. My riding lesson was going out to the field with sugar cubes and a halter, then riding anything I could catch.”
    Chet starts wheezing with laughter. “Please, Jess. Please tell the Deluca executives that story. Riding anything you can catch. You can tell them that’s how you snagged your rock star.”
    I cross my arms. Dylan still hasn’t returned my calls or sent any text messages. I’m not really in a joking mood.
    The driver takes us to an area with nice boutiques, and I start the search for the perfect purse. I want something small that I can keep one hand on, and also something big for when I return to L.A.
    We wander through shops, looking at purses. Chet goes crazy over the selection of shoes, and pretty soon we’re just shopping for him.
    We leave our third shoe store, and he leads me toward a bridal boutique. I stop in my tracks. I can’t go in there. Just looking at the pristine white bridal dresses in the window is making me sweat. I look over my shoulder, expecting to find paparazzi hunting me down.
    Nobody’s following me. I’m just going crazy. Paranoid.
    “Come on,” Chet says. “Don’t you need a dress? You said on the plane you don’t have one yet. When we fly back to L.A., there’ll be less than a week before your secret surprise wedding.”
    I shush him and look around again.
    “Sorry,” Chet says. “You’re sure jumpy. Is there something going on?”
    I consider telling him about the photo of Dylan, being kissed by another girl. No, my boss doesn’t need to know everything about my love life.
    “Fine, let’s look at dresses,” I say.
    We walk into the Italian bridal boutique. We are greeted warmly by the women working there. The three ladies seem to be all different generations of the same family. They’re very kind, and within minutes, they’re practically forcing me to try on wedding gowns.
    Suddenly, I feel like