He spat out, "You listen here,road stander…" His words trailed off as he turned his head slowly to my right.
As I turned to look, I saw whathesaw – Ryder Vaughn heading toward me from heaven-knows-where.
My stomach fluttered as he closed the distance in a slow, steady stride.Was I staring?
Probably.
But how could I help it?
His tousled hair caught the light of the moon, his shirt clung in all the right places, and something about the way he moved made me feel like all of this would miraculously turn out fine.
But that was ridiculous, right?
I swallowed hard when he stopped a few paces away and glared up at the bearded stranger. "Hey!" Ryder called. "Some of us are trying to sleep."
My eyes widened.Us?
Really?
Oh, please.As ifhe'dbeen sleeping.
Up high, the bearded guy started to sputter. "Me? I wasn't the one yelling! It washer!"He jabbed a finger in my direction like I was the town menace.
Ryder didn't miss a beat. "AllIheard wasyou." He folded his arms like a disappointed dad.
For my part, I tried not to notice the way his forearms flexed, making his muscles shift in ways that made my thoughts drift in dangerous directions. Unfortunately, one of those directions was just a little naked.
Damn it.
What was wrong with me, anyway?
Above us, the bearded wonder sputtered again. "Me?"
"Yeah,you," Ryder called back. He flicked his chin toward the hotel across the street. "I paid good money for that room, and I'll be damned if I'm getting woken up by some balcony yeller."
"Yeller?" the guy echoed, clearly insulted. "Butsheyelled first, not me."
Ryder snorted. "Listen, ZZ—"
"What!"
"You heard me."
I stifled a laugh as an image of that classic rock band,ZZ Top, flashed in my brain. Now that I thought about it, the guy's resemblance reallywasuncanny – except by now, the real musicians must've been double this guy's age.
And judging from his glare, he wasn't exactly a fan. "Listen, buddy! I'm not in no band! I'm a biker, okay?"
Ryder scoffed. "I don't care if you're training for the Tour de France, you need to keep it down."
"I'm notthatkind of biker," the guy yelled. "I ride Harleys, not kiddie bikes."
I called out without thinking. "Hah! We sawyouon a bicycle just the other day!"
The guy froze. He looked from me to Ryder. "Wait a minute…" He pointed at Ryder. "You! You were the guy with her. Weren't you?"
I sucked in a breath.Oh, crap.
Me and my big mouth.If only I'd kept it shut, the guy might've never made the connection.
