One with a stop sign on theoppositeroad.
There had barely been enough time to swerve as he slammed on his brakes. It’s not a busy street, but it was still Charlotte on a Saturday afternoon. We were lucky there was no oncoming traffic. If I hadn’t dodged him, he’d have hit me right in the passenger-side rear quarter panel. Neither of us was going very fast, but there would’ve been damage.
I glance at him, clocking his lean frame that’s cinched in the middle by a belt as bright and red as that stop sign he ignored. His arms are crossed, and a strip of powder blue is gripped in one hand as his heeled foot continues to tap.
He doesn’t exactly look ready to accept his guilt.
Back in town, I’d been so charmed by his flushed face and stumbling that I hadn’t been able to muster a response. Instead, I sat there and stared as he threw every insult in the book at me. Fury has faded to irritation now thathis car is no longer threatened, and he’s just as cute in this milder version of a tantrum.
I nod at the powder-blue bandana he’s wringing in his hands, bleaching his knuckles with the strain. “Can I help you put that on?” I ask, and he falters, like he’s physically lost hold of the anger for a moment as his gaze falls to the cloth. “It’s for your hair, right?” He nods slowly, fidgeting with the material again as I offer him a smile. “I’m pretty good at tying a knot.”
“Yeah, you look like a boy scout,” he mutters.
Sadie coughs to hide her chuckle and says, “I’m going to go finish getting my equipment ready. We can get started in a few minutes.” She walks away, and my partner loses some of his bravado without the backup.
“Come on, let me help. I don’t bite.” I step closer and extend my hand.
He sighs as he thrusts the bandana into it. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
“Oh, naturally. I imagine you hold a grudge with the best of them,” I tease as I wrap the fabric around the back of his head and loop it to meet above his forehead.
His thick chestnut hair shines with golden highlights, long enough to hang over his ears and brush the nape of his neck. Bright blue eyes peek from underneath a field of lashes, watching me with a half scowl.
I return it with a smile. “Maybe now that your car is safe, you can at least tell me your name.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek as I tie a careful knot. “Devon.”
“Devon,” I repeat, testing the feel of it on my lips. “Pretty.”
He flushes and ducks his head as I let my hands fall to my sides. His bandana is perfectly in place, with a neat knot on his temple.
“Hey, you two!” Sadie calls, waving her hand with a smile. “We’re ready to get started!”
“Yeah, alright,” Devon responds, running his palms down his skirt again. It’s the third time I’ve seen him do that, and I wonder if he’s aware of the nervous tic.
I nod at her, and the two of us fall into step as we walk in her direction.
“Hey, Devon?” He hums his response while staring straight ahead. “There’s something you should know.”
“Hmm?”
“You seem kind of bent out of shape about the incident in town before, but it was an honest mistake. No big deal.”
“You’re only saying that because it was your fault.”
My lips twitch as he wobbles in his heels.
I grip his elbow to steady him, then offer him my arm. “Hold on to me.”
Those blue eyes move to mine like I have some ulterior motive, but he finally relents and links our arms, holding my forearm above my wrist.
Once he’s steady, I say, “Even if it wasn’t my fault, I’d say the same thing. And it wasn’t.”
He questions me with a hiked brow.
“My fault,” I clarify. “I didn’t run that stop sign, pretty boy. You did.”
“Oh my god, you areimpossible,” he snaps as he shoves me away. “I did not.”
