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13
Igasped and scrabbledto my feet, wiping the red sauce off with my fingers.
“Oh my God,” I said, beginning to tremble. “I’m so sorry.”
I looked around me for something to dab at the shirt, and something to wipe my fingers with. Settling on the straw for my hands, I couldn’t help the panic starting to take over me as the reality of this expensive material now being ruined started to sink in.
“Sophie,” he said. “It’s fine. Stop panicking.”
I glanced up at him, and then back at the shirt, and then back at him. “Have you not seen this? Do you know how hard grease is to get out of clothes?”
A soft chuckle sounded through the air as he stepped towards me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and locked our eye contact.
“I don’t care,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s only a shirt.”
“But—”
“No buts. It’s a thing, Sophie, a material object. It’s never as important as a person.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. What was I supposed to say to that?
“Here,” he said, grasping my hand. “Let’s get you sorted out.”
My whole body was on fire from having his hand wrapped around mine. As much as I probably didn’t want to admit it, this guy affected me in ways I’d never yet experienced. Walking through the throng of people back to his truck, it was hard to ignore the admiring glances he received from every woman we walked past. Just the thought of him with one of them had the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head inside me. For just a minute, I allowed myself the fantasy of pretending we were a couple and he was taking me home for a night of untold passion.
We reached his truck, which unfortunately meant he broke our skin tingling connection. Rifling through the back seats in an old leather duffel bag, he pulled out a lemon coloured shirt and handed it to me.
“Hop in the back and swap them over.”
My thoughts must have crossed over my face, as he started chuckling at me.
“Don’t worry—the windows are tinted, and I won’t peek.”
I blushed and climbed in the back with his clean shirt. As I peeled his sister’s shirt from my body, I found myself staring at his shadowed form outside the window. He was leaning back against the door, watching the area around us. I bit my lip, lost in the notion that here I was, topless, save for my lacy bra, and there he was—inches away from me. We were only separated by a piece of glass...
Shaking my head as if bringing myself back to reality, I pulled his clean shirt on, and opened the door. It was huge and hung off me as if I was a coat hanger—it absolutely drowned me.
He smiled when he saw me. “I think that suits you even better.”
I glanced down at the length of it hanging around my mid-thigh area. “It’s huge. I could make a parachute out of it.”
Laughing, he held his hand out towards me and motioned towards the barn. “Fancy another drink?”
I nodded and placed my hand in his. My heart was working as hard as a jack hammer. My ribs were beginning to hurt from the incessant pounding against them. Before we entered the barn, I pulled us to a halt, so I could sort out the baggy shirt I was now wearing.
“What’s up?” he said, still holding my hand.
I broke our connection and lifted the ends of the shirt up. “I need to sort this out.”
Pulling the material tight around my waist, I took the remaining length and twisted it into a knot that rested just above my jeans. A hint of my belly was on show, but I could live with that.
Brady looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to give Randy a heart attack?”
I laughed, heat flooding my cheeks. On instinct, I started tugging at the sides, trying to inch it down over the miniscule part of flesh on show.
“You look fine, Sophie. I was joking.”
He grasped my hand and led me back inside. He ordered us two beers and we indulged in small talk as we watched the people on the floor line dancing the night away. After an impressive show of what looked like perfect choreography, the band mellowed the tone to a slow, soothing melody.
