“What?” she laughed while accepting kisses from the four-legged pair.
Damn, that sounded incredibly dumb. He clarified. “You’re, uh…tanned.”
“Why, Mr. Sothard,” she scolded politely while giving the dogs a “sit” sign which they oddly obeyed, “are you examining my legs?”
Julian wanted to swallow his tongue or sink into the ground, but he didn’t have the option of either, so he went with the truth. “Yes,” he stumbled. “But in my defense, nobody wears shorts in Maine, in March.” He recovered as best as he could. “And how did you know I’m a Sothard?”
She scoffed and did a little two-step shuffle around the dogs, showcasing her gams even more; aware of Julian’s embarrassment as she continued to showcase her bared assets.
She smirked, facing him directly.
Blue. Her eyes are blue.
Unaware of Julian’s thoughts, she answered.
“On the Sothard question… Seriously? That face you wear can’t be mistaken. A showstopper for sure. And the hair? Geeze. Don’t get me started. All of you have ridiculously good genes, and are what the kids today would call, hotties.”
She went on as if she hadn’t just blown his mind.
“And as far as the shorts? Well, it’s a thing a few of my group of driver-friends do. We see who dares be the first to wear them after the worst of the winter. And since I spent the last weekend in Florida—notin a tanning booth—to get the color just right, I felt the time was ripe,” she ended sassily.
“Did you, um, win?” Julian wanted to appear glib, but his brain couldn’t come up with anything remotely “quippy” with which to respond.
“I did,” she answered with a laugh. “The wimps weren’t even thinking about it yet, so I totally got them.” She reached into her pocket and finally gave up the treats for which the dogs had been waiting. The duo politely took their booty and trotted back inside to their beds for maximum enjoyment.
Now it was just the two of them.
“What do you think?” she asked. “Am I rocking the look?” She did a quick twirl, while Julian groped for something to say.
“You, uh…yes. They…it…, I mean, you look great.”
P. cocked a brow at him. “Thanks.”
She must have seen his discomfort, because she gave him a break, changing the subject. “So, Sothard-guy, we haven’t officially met, yet,” she stated, moving forward and tipping her head to one side. Her ponytail swung over her shoulder with the move. “There are always so many of your larger-than-life brothers in the shop, you haven’t had a chance to get a word in edgewise. But now that we’re alone, do tell. Which one are you?”
“Julian,” he spouted. “Uh, Jules is what everybody calls me. Fifth in line out of the eight Sothard brothers.”
“Eight?” she gaped with a chuckle. “Yikes. That’s a lot of testosterone.” She held up her fingers and counted down. “I know Mase from the OPD, I knowofKyle from the BPD. Then there’s Spence, Buck, and Trask from the shop, here, and now you. Who am I missing?”
Julian was on safe ground with this topic. He got questioned about his siblings all the time.
“There’s Vincent, the second oldest, who’s still in the Navy, and Seifer, the youngest, is currently in college.” At least he assumed Seif was still at UMass, although the kid’s role at the school might have recently changed to that of…graduate student? Ski coach? Who knows? Nobody could keep up with the cocky, young bastard.
“And you? Where did you come from that I’ve only seen you around for a few weeks?”
“I just separated from the Air Force,” he told her.
“Okay. I get it. Another military brother. Cool.” P. was looking at him thoughtfully, but mercifully didn’t invoke the “thanks for your service” thing like so many people did.
Julian wassoover hearing that.
But back to introductions, he couldn’t keep calling this woman, P. It was time he found out who she really was.
“What’syourname?”
Not the smoothest of inquiries, but Julian had never been known for being suave.
“Promise you won’t laugh?” she asked, unexpectedly, the brash approach to everything that he’d seen from her so far, toning down significantly.
