He pocketed the items and lifted a shoulder. “They’re a little snug, but not uncomfortable.”
And that’s why they looked better on Wes.
Chapter 4
How was she sexier in jeans and a cover-all, zip-up sweater than shorts and a skimpy tank top? Wes wondered. Maybe because now she looked more like the kind of woman he’d decided he should date, than the untamed biker chic that turned him on.
Either way, it was no good. He knew what the red sweater concealed, and that small rose tattoo on her neck still peeked out from under the collar despite the curtain of black hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders. It looked so silky smooth he wanted to step over there and—
He cleared his throat. “I should get going.”
She nodded, turning to swipe up a towel off the counter and hang it on the oven door. “I put your clothes in the wash. If you stop by in the morning, they’ll be good as new.”
He opened his mouth to thank her, but then remembered something. “That suit is dry clean.” She spun back around and put her hand on her hip in a gesture that he recognized from when she’d scolded the dog earlier. Another bad sign—that he remembered it.
“What, you think I don’t know how to clean anything but leather?”
Her defensiveness revealed his earlier comment had bothered her, and now he felt bad. “I didn’t say that.”
“Your suit will be fine,” she assured him.
“Okay…I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Yep.”
He started for the door, only to find himself pausing before he reached it. “Are you going back to the fair now?”
“I have a few things to do here first.” She blinked at him with those brown eyes. “Why?”
Because he wanted to spend more time with her, and if he walked her back, he might try to get an invitation to share her blanket for the fireworks. Not a good idea.
“Just wondering,” he said. He made it as far as the porch on his second attempt to leave. As the fresh night air whispered across his bare arms and fireflies blinked in her front yard, he turned back around. “It’s almost dark, you should call your brother to walk with you.”
She stood inside the door. “It’s only a few blocks, it’s no big deal.”
Wes shifted forward to brace a hand against the doorframe. “So this town is one hundred percent crime free?” He caught the faint scent of perfume and backed up again.
“No, but I happen to have a few moves,” she joked with a small smile. “You want to see ‘em?”
He gave a sh
ort laugh, holding up a hand while his mind went in a completely different, sensual direction. “No, that’s all right. Call your brother.”
She rolled her eyes at his concern. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his brows.
Finally, she huffed, “Okay, fine, I’ll call him.”
“Thank you.” Before giving in to any of the crazy ideas floating around in his head, he stepped off the porch and didn’t look back.
Down the block near her family’s house, he caught movement from the corner of his eye and saw her brother get up off the porch to walk toward him. Wes tensed with the realization that the guy had been watching for him. At least this time he wasn’t at a disadvantage in boxers and bare feet. He stopped, but waited for Charlie to open the conversation.
“I’m only going to say this once. Stay away from my sister.”
He’d planned on doing exactly that, but Charlie’s challenging tone set Wes straight on the offensive. “It’s really none of your business.”
Charlie stepped closer. Wes clenched his fists, automatically sizing up his opponent to find Charlie equally prepared. Then the guy glanced at Wes’s arm. “Your tatt there says it is. I’ve seen it before at a bike rally in Detroit, and you guys are bad news.”
Wes’s anger dissipated, replaced by bitterness that even in small-town America he couldn’t escape his past. He nodded his agreement with Charlie’s statement. “They are, which is why I got the hell out about eight years ago and moved to Denver.”