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Tabitha raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Trying what?”
Hobbs laughed. “Trying to peel back the layers of my annoying brother.”
“He’s not annoying,” Tabitha countered. “He’s just, if I had to guess, very private.”
Victor, oblivious to their discussion, kept shoving on one glove after the other, all too small. Hobbs smiled at Tabitha. She returned it, bright and pretty.
“I better go help him before he ruins all the gloves,” Hobbs told her, and left Tabitha behind to join his brother in the shelves. By the time Victor found what he wanted, in a size big enough for his huge mitts, and they’d headed back toward the counter to pay, Delaney had joined Tabitha.
Victor let out a soft, private whistle. “Who is that?”
“That—” Hobbs lowered his voice as they neared the women “—is taken. By a cop. So just forget it. She owns this shop.”
“Hey, I’m just admiring. I don’t live here, remember?”
Delaney would be his type. Tough. No-nonsense. She had on jeans, black boots and a plain white T-shirt that showed off a black tattoo etched down the underside of her forearm, up to her wrist. The ink was dark and new, because up until last year she’d been an active-duty marine. No ink below the sleeves. “Hobbs,” she said, when she spied him. “I didn’t know you rode.”
“I don’t.”
“That makes more sense.”
Victor let out a belly laugh. “She hates you, doesn’t she?”
“A little bit.”
“Who’s this?” Delaney tilted her head up at Victor just as Wyatt came streaking out of the back of the shop. He spun once in front of Victor, then sat right down in front of him and said, “Woof.” Wyatt’s signature greeting was the coolest thing Hobbs had ever heard.
“Woof to you, too.” Victor ran a palm over Wyatt’s head. “These, please.” He dropped the gloves on the counter and Tabitha quickly scooped them up.
“Delaney Monroe, this is my brother, Victor. He’s visiting from Omaha. Heading back today. Delaney is originally from Omaha, too.”
She looked Victor up and down. “Why’s he so much bigger than you?”
Victor laughed again, good and deep. “Pleasure to meet you, Delaney Monroe.”
They shook hands. “Likewise.”
“This is a great shop you got here.”
“Thanks.”
“What kind of classic bikes you deal in?”
“All. British. American. Japanese.”
“She’s got a ’33 Indian,” Hobbs said. She’d ridden it to the gym once and every guy in the place had rushed out to admire it.
“On the road?” Victor wasn’t easily impressed but Hobbs could hear it in his voice.
“Yep.” Delaney grinned.
“Cool. Can I see it?”
“Sure, it’s in the back. What you riding?” Delaney nodded at the gloves.
“Triumph Tiger.”
“Nice. I love British bikes.” While Tabitha ran Victor’s credit card, Delaney pointed a finger at him. “Good bike to ride all the way down. I can hear Nebraska in your voice, by the way. Heavier than Hobbs here.”
