If he’s offended, he hides it behind a good-natured laugh. “I got most of them when I was younger. Probably due for a new one but I can’t decide what I want.”
Curiosity gets the better of me. “Do they mean anything in particular?”
A flicker of emotion dashes across his face, the muscles in his arms flexing before he gives me another of those charming Wild Wes grins. “Whatever seemed like a good idea at the time.”
It’s a reminder of his impulsivity and recklessness I sorely need now that he’s doing his best impression of a bad-boy-turned-good fantasy cooking breakfast.Seemed like a good idea at the timeis what landed him in my kitchen in the first place.
My phone lights up with a text, excusing me from having to dwell on the strangeness of the conversation. Sparring with Wes in parking lots has never been as intimate as this early morning duel.
“Eric said he’s already at the garage if we want to come by now before he opens.” My stomach grumbles a protest as I cast a forlorn glance at the food on the stove. “We can reheat that. Assuming it’s edible.”
“It’s more than edible.” Wes points with a spatula to the counter, where he’s laid out tortillas I hadn’t noticed. “I just need another minute and then we’ll have tacos we can eat while we drive.”
I was somewhere around seven the last time anyone cookedme breakfast. There have been guys who went out and picked something up, sure. But actuallycooked? The fact that it’s Wes is all the more surreal. I highly doubt his parents have ever cooked a day in their lives. They have staff for that. How did he even learn?
Texting my brother to let him know we’ll be there soon is as good an excuse as any to push my curiosity aside. Wes and I aren’t having a cozy morning chat by choice. He’s only here because he took a needless risk that could have gotten him killed. “Maybe you should worry about finding a shirt. Seriously, who cooks bacon without a shirt?”
“If it’s not a little dangerous, are you even living?”
There’s the Wes I know and want to push in front of a tornado.
Except he came awfully close to doing that to himself last night, and the uncomfortable twist in my belly still hasn’t entirely loosened. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice, turning back to flip the bacon while humming under his breath.
“There’s coffee.” Wes points to the counter, where there are two take-out cups waiting, along with several packets of cream and sugar. “Wasn’t sure how you liked it.”
“How long have you been up?” I yawn while carefully stepping around him and his still very naked chest to grab one of the coffees. I dump some sugar into it and skip the cream. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear you.”
“I’m quiet when I want to be.”
“You went out with all your windows smashed?” I can only imagine the looks he got.
“Not many people out at six thirty on a Saturday.”
I wince, eyeing my far-too-small-for-him couch. It was closeto two by the time we both settled in for the night. “Did you sleep at all?”
Wes shrugs and grabs one of the tortillas before adding a scoop of scrambled eggs. “Couple of hours.”
“Sorry about the couch.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He finishes adding cheese and bacon to the tortilla and expertly wraps it before handing it to me. “Eat your breakfast.”
Eric lets outa low whistle when he steps out of the garage. “I thought you were exaggerating.” I follow his gaze toward where Wes is parking his mangled SUV. “Uh, Sloane, when you said you had a friend who needed some work done fast, you left out that it washim.”
I shrug, not for the first time wishing I’d kept my mouth shut and never ranted to my brothers about Wes after too many cocktails at Christmas. “Chaser code,” I lie.
“But I thought you—”
“I do.”
“So why is he—”
“Not now,” I hiss as Wes drops to the pavement and starts toward us. He’s put on a shirt, thankfully, but I’m having a hard time not picturing all the skin and ink hiding beneath the snug fabric.
My brother shakes his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he mutters before he throws me a warning look and goes to inspect the hot mess Wes made of his vehicle.
I make introductions quickly. It’s a little odd to see Eric andWes side by side. Growing up, my younger brothers rapidly outgrew me once they hit their teenage years. I’m used to Eric and Sam towering over me, but next to Wes, Eric is the short one.
“This is a good news, bad news situation.” Eric gestures at the SUV with a grimace after poking around for a few minutes. “We can fix ’er up for you no problem, but I’ve got to order in the glass. That’ll take a few days. You might have better luck at the dealer up in Denver or one of those glass replacement services. Once it’s here, it’s not going to take too long, as long as you didn’t fuck up the mechanics of the door. If there’s glass in there too, it’ll take longer to take it apart and clean everything up.”
