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Prosper shrugged because he really didn’t have an answer except that it didn’t seem like the right thing to do. “I don’t know. You sounded like you needed help, so instead of sending someone else, I came. Why?”
“You just don’t look like the kind of guy who would give a shit about a minimum wage waitress who was stuck on the side of the road.”
“What kind of guy do I look like?”
Pinky cocked her head and gave him a cool once over. The cost of only one of those tattoos inked all over Prosper’s arms would put her back a full month’s salary, and the Harley he rode was chromed-up, fully dressed, and top of the line. His leather cut sported a full rocker with a patch over the front pocket that boasted the wordsPresident HSMC. Prosper was a one-percenter, for sure.
“That’s a no brainer,” she told him. “You’re tough. And rich.”
Prosper was surprised. The tough he got, but rich? Nah. Then he looked at the dented hundred-year-old Buick with the bald tires and rusted rims, her cheap shoes, and that god-awful bohemian cloth thing she used as a purse. In comparison, his custom Harley, his road leathers, and six-hundred-dollar biker boots must have spelled money to her. Still, he protested.
“How do you know I’m not tough and poor?”
“That’s easy,” Pinky told him. “BecauseI’mtough and poor.”
The two were back at the bar looking at Petey, who was in the exact same place Prosper had left him: passed out, dead drunk, and snoring in that puddle of beer.
“Okay, so … if you can take his bottom half, I can manage the top half. Then, we can slide him off the stool and into his truck.” Pinky stood with her hand on her hip while she spewed out orders like a boss.
“I don’t think so.” Prosper shook his head.
“What part?”
“All of it.”
Pinky frowned at Prosper in exasperation. Then she swung a hand in the air. “Well, look around, the bar’s closing up. Sean has a bad back so I can’t expect him to help me. And I sure as hell can’t leave my brother here.”
Prosper felt the irony of the situation bite him right in the ass. What was it with him and chicks who needed help rescuing their brothers from bars? Looking at this woman standing before him, she and Maggie could not be more different. One was a tiny, flat-chested blonde with big hair, bright blue eyes, long, lacquered fingernails—and if he wasn’t mistaken, she was packing heat in the front pocket of her polyester waitress uniform.
The other was an exotic beauty with silky long hair, womanly curves, and dark eyes—who spoke softly and grew organic in her backyard.
But when it came to their brothers? Both women were idiots.
“God forbid you break a fingernail …” Prosper pretended annoyance because… seriously? Petey was not a small guy, and right now, his big Irish ass was nothing but dead weight. The little waitress would probably pop out a hernia just trying to lift Petey’s arm. “Sean, if I take most of the weight, can you help me get Petey to his truck?” Prosper began to drag Petey off the stool.
“Sure thing.” Sean walked around the bar, and between the two of them they managed to get him out the door and into the truck.
Pinky fished the keys out of her brother’s pocket and slid behind the wheel.
“Follow me,” she ordered Prosper. Again.
He hesitated. Damn! Nobody,Nobody,gave Prosper Worthington orders. The skinny blonde had some balls talking to him like that. Had she not seen his presidents patch, for Christ’s sake?
Pinky waited about a half a minute before she jutted out her bony hip, and flung a hand up in exasperation. “Damn drunken fool man ain’t gonna drive himself home. You following or what?”
He grinned inwardly despite himself. There was something about her fearlessness that Prosper found … fucking adorable. So … what the hell. He decided to follow the truck and see where this night might lead. Pinky drove up to a house that he assumed belonged to her brother. While Prosper watched on, she took the keys out of the ignition and put them in the mailbox close to the front door. Then, she pulled her brother across the bench seat of the truck and covered him with an old plaid blanket.
She met Prosper at the end of the driveway.
“He gonna be okay in there?” Prosper asked her.
“Yeah, he’ll be fine.”
They both stared at each other for a long moment. Prosper broke the silence first.
“You need a ride home?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you just because you helped me out.”
