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“You got a thing against pink?” Okay. She sounded like a defensive bitch, but for the life of her, Regan couldn’t seem to help herself where Wyatt was concerned.
“No.” There was that smile again. She’d never noticed how straight his teeth were before. Like Hollywood-movie-star straight. And they were white. As white as the snow that blanketed the area for miles.
He walked toward her, slow and steady, like an animal on the prowl. Seriously? The man stood on sheer ice and by every right should be flat on his ass. What was he, part arctic cat?
She wrapped her arms around her midsection, suddenly hot and cold. Shivers rolled over her skin like waves butting the edge of the dock, and her teeth began to chatter. She was cold, yes. And kind of hot. And more than a little uncomfortable.
She could blame all that on the man in front of her.
He stopped a few inches away, and though she lowered her eyes, it didn’t much matter. She’d already had a look at a mouth sculpted by the gods and bone structure fit for Hollywood. Even the scar that cut into his left eyebrow gave him an edge—made him more attractive than he already was.
Why did she feel the pull so badly? She didn’t even like him.
“Regan?”
Slowly, she met his gaze. A snowflake clung to his lashes, and an unmistakable current of something jumped between them. His expression shifted—just for a moment—and she wondered if he felt it too.
He took another step, and she automatically stiffened. But he walked past her and hunkered down beside her car.
“You got any kitty litter in the trunk?”
“What?”
“Litter.” He pointed to the tires. “Helps with traction.”
She shook her head and grimaced. “No.” That would have been smart.
Wyatt straightened, that smile back on full display. “Huh.” He rubbed his chin. “That’s surprising.”
She arched an eyebrow.
He grinned. “Well, I would have thought anyone who’s such a big fan of Hello Kitty would, I don’t know, maybe have a bag or two of litter in her car. Especially during a Michigan winter.”
“How do you…” She fumbled over her words, confused and off-kilter. Hello Kitty was her thing. And yes, it was juvenile and her brother teased her about it, but hey, a girl had a right to cling to some eccentricities.
“I saw your shoes in the fall. The ones you wore at the hospital. It made me remember something. From senior year.”
Cheeks suddenly hot, Regan cleared her throat and did what she always did when flummoxed. She changed the subject.
“I think we’ll be fine, Wyatt. You can head home.”
“We?” He bent to peer through the window.
“My niece and nephew.”
Harriet’s face was now pressed against the window, mouth open, nose flattened, her eyes huge as she stared up at Wyatt.
“These must be Adam’s kids?”
“Yep.” She nodded and moved closer to the car. “The twinners.” She pointed to the squishy face. “That’s Harriet, and her brother, Jordan, is in there somewhere.”
Wyatt was silent for a few moments. “This thing isn’t moving, and tow trucks are hours behind on calls. So how you getting home?”
“We can walk.”
“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not going to happen.”
Hackles up, she glared at Wyatt. “Excuse me?”
