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“Oh shit, what did you do?” He peered at her ass and winged up a brow. “Nice undies.”
Efficiently, she tore the piece of material again and dumped the extra in the flatbed of her truck. Then she wrapped the smaller strip of material around his bleeding fingers and tied it off tightly enough to stanch the bleeding but not so tightly so as to cut off circulation.
Then she stomped on his instep.
“Ow, what the fuck?”
“A gentleman doesn’t remark on a woman’s underwear.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Where do you see a gentleman ’round here? It sure as shit ain’t me.”
She scowled and snatched the flashlight, bending to search for his missing key fob herself. The faster she found it, the faster he would get gone. Then she remembered her torn dress and slapped a hand over her ass, holding it there while she crouched and forced herself to focus on the ground in front of her.
Not the laughter filtering out to them as more guests made their way to their cars. And especially not on the smirk he’d worn when he’d commented on her undies.
Just figured the first time she wore a thong, she had to play Florence Nightingale.
“You know, I meant what I said.” His conversational tone rankled almost as much as his large shoes when she swung back too close to him. She knew quite well what large feet often indicated on a man.
Yep, Charli was going to be doing some sharing. If vicarious thrills were all she could get, she damn well wouldn’t be denied.
“About your undies,” he continued when she didn’t take the bait. “They really are nice. I like pink.”
She didn’t flush but it was a close thing. She rose and pushed the flashlight at him, mainly to stem the tide of his mouth. “They aren’t pink. They’re coral.”
“Coral? Isn’t that pink?”
“I can’t find your key fob,” she said through clenched teeth. “Guess you’re stuck here tonight.”
“Nah.” He gave her a winsome smile. “Since you aren’t drunk and all, I’ll skip calling Drake and just ride home with you. I can come back to look for my clicker in the morning.” His smile grew. “Unless you’re afraid of being alone with me…”
“You should be afraid of being alone with me.” His rich laughter f
ollowed her to the driver’s side, then she glanced back. “Um, genius, I’m still blocked in.”
He shrugged as if that was no big deal. “Okay, so fine. Drake it is. He has to be back from San Antonio now.”
“Or we could just go in there and ask the guys who owns the Beamer and the red Jeep to move,” she suggested.
“You really want to go back in there?”
No, she did not. Did that make her a horrible person? Maybe. She’d analyze it another day.
“Fine.” She heaved out a sigh. “Call Mr. Mondell.”
“Drake and Colt, darlin’. Those are our names. Try remembering them, huh?” Before she could toss back a remark, he pulled out his phone. “Hey buddy. You back in town? Good. How’s Daisy?”
Must be one of his horses, unless it was one of his women. They tended to have similar names.
“Great. Glad to hear she made the trip okay. What say you come get me and Paige at the reception? We’re, ah, a bit stranded.” A pause. “Yeah, me and Paige. Yes, we’re together. Of course it’s Paige Wilcox.” He sounded annoyed. “Do you know of any other Paiges in Quinn, jackhole?”
The longer she listened to this—and imagined Drake’s reaction on the other end of the line to the ridiculous possibility she and Colt could be sharing the same airspace—the better going back into the reception sounded. She’d just sidle in, find the owners of the vehicles and sidle back out again. Easy-peasy.
“Yeah, we’re blocked in. You know how people park. And half the guests are toasted, so good luck getting them to move. I bet a bunch of them will crash here overnight anyway.” He laughed. “Sure, my old room will hold at least a few of them. Depends on who hooks up tonight.” He waggled his brows at Paige and she frowned.
Normally his charm didn’t come close to working on her. Since she couldn’t blame her daily carrot-and-kale smoothie for this one, she’d go back to blaming the alcohol. It was the only explanation.
Though if she’d known she would be riding home with Colt and Drake, she would’ve had another two spritzers, and probably a shot or two of Patron as well.
