Good God, he has dimples! I might die!
Right on cue, my cheeks get hot. Here we go again.
His grin widens into a smile and he winks at me. I’m pretty sure my toes are numb. I watch him turn away. Before his head completely disappears, I consider what Jenna said. Maybe I should go and ask for the treat…
I jump when I feel fingers at my neck, brushing my hair back. “You looking for me?”
I recognize the voice. It’s Brent. I sigh. It’s not right that I should feel a little disappointed. But I do. The time for me to be reckless has past. The door of opportunity has officially been closed. By Brent.
I turn on my stool. I smile up into the face of Brent Thomason, my quasi-boyfriend.
Brent is no slob in the looks department. His sandy hair has that purposefully messy look and his dark brown eyes have an exotic tilt I’ve always found very appealing. But even as I stare into them, I’m picturing smoky greenish-gray ones.
“Were you looking for me?” he asks again.
I dodge the question, playfully poking him in the chest. “You’re late!”
“I can’t be too perfect. Gotta keep a girl like you on her toes.” He kisses the tip of my nose and then brushes my lips with his.
“Did you get the ‘Vette running?” I ask, leaning back.
“No. That’s why I’m late. I just talked to the guy that was supposed to take a look at it for me. Since I couldn’t even get it here, he agreed to look at it tomorrow night instead. I’ll get it out there even if I have to have it towed,” he growls in determination.
As usual, I find Brent’s passion about his car a little bit of a turn on. One of my father’s obsessions is vintage cars. We have a garage full of them and I know enough about them to talk like I’ve got some sense.
“Out where?”
He shrugs. “Eh, some sort of field thing. You know how country people are.”
I feel my frown, but can’t stop it. I know Brent doesn’t really mean anything by the comment, but it still bothers me. Unlike most of my friends, I know what life without money looks like, feels like. Granted, it was a long time ago, but some things a girl never forgets.
Sexy eyes drift through my mind…
“I want to get that thing running so I can drive you around and show you off. I mean, drive it around and show it off.” He grins at me. I grin back. The sad thing is, I think he had it right the first time.
CHAPTER TWO - Trick
Tiny hands tap on the bare skin of my back. I feel the thump of them echo through my throbbing head.
“Uuuuuuuugh,” I groan into the pillow.
I hear a giggle. “You sound like a monster when you do that.”
I groan again, louder this time. Another giggle. Grace loves it when I sleep in. She gets a kick out of waking me up.
“I neeeeed foooood,” I growl in my best monster voice. Then, as fast as I can manage to move first thing in the morning with a hangover, I turn over and loop my arm around her tiny waist and throw her onto the bed.
I grab her foot and start tickling it relentlessly. She jerks and wiggles, rolling around on the bed, giggling the whole time.
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! That tickles,” she cries breathlessly.
“You know this is what happens when you wake the sleeping giant.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
I let her foot go and throw my legs over the side of the bed. “I’m letting you off easy this time, but only because you remembered the magic word.”
“I’m sorry?” she asks as she sits up and pushes her dark brown bangs out of her eyes.
“No, that’s two words. The magic word is hippopotamus.”
She grins. “I didn’t say hippopotamus, silly.”
“You didn’t? Well then…” I lunge at her and she scoots off the bed, squealing all the way out the door.
I sit back down on the bed, my head pounding painfully. Not having a ten year-old sister in the house and having a bedroom door that locks were two of the major benefits of college life.
Don’t go there. Too little, too late.
Pushing myself off the bed, I head for the bathroom.
At least it has a functioning lock. Thank God!
After a couple splashes of cold water to my face, the night before comes back in a rush. Amazing near-violet eyes come to mind and, right after that, a blush that makes me hard just thinking about it.
Cami. She was gorgeous!
Damn!
Not that it matters. Girls like that always have boyfriends. Possessive ones who know what they’ve got and are willing to throw down for it. I certainly would. She’s the kind of girl you fight to the death for.
Damn.
“Hurry up, slow poke. Breakfast is almost ready.”
I hear Grace’s little feet scampering away from the door, no doubt thinking I might come charging out after her. I smile into the mirror above the sink. Even though she can annoy the daylights out of me, I still love her. Hell, I practically raised her. I’m the only man in her life, the only father figure she’s ever really had.
My thoughts turn bitter and angry, so I splash a little more cold water on my face before I head for the kitchen. Big, homemade breakfasts are one of the benefits of not being at college.
“Mornin’, hon,” Mom says with a bright smile.
“Mornin’,” I return, sitting in front of the place she has set for me, the place that used to be my father’s. “I told you, you don’t have to do this, Mom. I can make myself breakfast.”
“Not like this, you can’t.”
I grin. “Good point.”
Her smile fades as she sits down with her own plate. She looks at me from the corner of her eye. “You out drinking again last night?”
I sigh. “Yeah. Why?”
“I’m not fussin’. It just seems like you’ve been doing an awful lot of that since you had to come home.”
“Mom, I didn’t have to come home. I chose to come home.”
We both glance at Grace, who is pretending not to pay us any attention.
“I know it’s not what you wanted and I feel—”
“Well, don’t. Don’t feel that way. I wanted to do it, Mom. You and Grace are all I’ve got. It just makes sense.”
Her smile returns. “I knew all along you’d grow up to be this kind of man. I’m so proud of you, Patrick. I just wish…”
“Mom, college isn’t going anywhere. I can finish up later. Right now, this is more important.”