Wes glances at me. “How far are we from Denver?”
“An hour, give or take. Maybe a little longer depending on where you need to go.”
“I’ll make some calls.” He paces away, tapping on his phone, while next to me Eric shoves his hands in his pockets and gives me that classic, I’m-your-brother-I-see-your-bullshit stare.
“I thought he was, and I quote,the biggest jackass on the plains.” Eric’s brow goes up. “Or is it theeven if he’s hotpart that’s driving all this? Don’t tell me you’re pulling a Mom.”
“Did you really just compare me to Mom?” I hiss, giving him a shove that he hardly seems to feel.
“You showed up with a guy you told me is a dick to you. What am I supposed to think?”
“It’s not…He’s…Sometimes he’s not so bad.” I fold my arms over my chest and jerk my chin toward the lack of windows. “The only reason he’s here is to get his car fixed. You fix cars. He’s willing to pay extra to have it done faster.”
“That’s nice, but what’s he doing with you in the first place?”
“I told you, chaser code. He needed help and I was there.” I shift uncomfortably, my attention drawn to Wes’s tense form as he paces the garage’s driveway. With one hand clutching his hair, his shirt is riding up again, exposing just enough of his bare abdomen to make me wonder about those other tattoos.
“Sloane? You in there or has the man’s ass mesmerized you? I might not swing that way, but even I can admit that’s gym goals.”
Face flaming, I yank my attention away from Wes. “I don’t want to win the magazine contest because of something stupid, all right? I want to beat him on my own merit so he can’t blame circumstances.”
It’s not a lie—but it also didn’t occur to me until this morning. After Wes was already in my house.
Shoving the thought aside, I continue, “I’m sick of hearing how my shots are never going to be as good as his because I’m not willing to dangle myself out of a helicopter or hike glaciers or any of the other insane shit he does.”
Not like I could even if I wanted to. Those trips don’t come cheap.
“Then you better hope your boy—”
“He is notmyanything.”
“—has better luck up north because the earliest the glass will come in is Monday, and that’s not a sure thing with tomorrow being a holiday.” My brother scowls. “Youdoremember tomorrow is Easter, right?”
“Sure,” I lie. Holidays don’t tend to stick out much in my head these days. We make an effort for Thanksgiving and Christmas with Mom, but the rest tend to go by unnoticed.
Itdoesmean that Wes is going to be relying on me fortransportation longer than either of us thought unless he finds someone in Denver willing to work not only a Sunday, but a holiday at that.
My attention wavers back to him pacing by the road. Even with sunglasses jammed over his eyes, I can see the frustration climbing into his expression, his shoulders high and tight. He tips his head back and stands there for a long moment, motionless, as though he’s hoping to find an answer in the distant mountain peaks.
Eric sighs, his focus on the car when he says, “You going to stop by Mom’s while you’re here?”
“Wasn’t planning on it. I haven’t even been gone a week.” I don’t want to interrupt the relative peace of my chase season—Wes and his blown-out windows and puzzlingly thoughtful breakfast aside. “I’ll check on her if I have time. Have you or Sam been by?”
Eric only shakes his head. “Been busy with the garage. I called her yesterday. She said she’s fine. You don’t have to do all this shit for her, Sloane. She’s an adult.”
I love my brothers. I do. But as Eric stands there without having the decency to look the slightest bit guilty, the urge to get in my car and leave both him and Wes to solve their own problems is hard to resist.
This is the only break I ever get. Why the hell did I interrupt that forWes? I might want to beat him fairly, but it’s not even remotely my fault he got himself in this mess.
The man in question growls out a string of curses under his breath as he comes back to where Eric and I are waiting. “I forgot tomorrow is Easter,” he says in a tight, controlled voice.“No one can do anything today. You can get it done Monday when the glass comes in?”
“If I don’t find any nasty surprises, sure,” Eric says easily.
“I’ll pay whatever it takes.”
My brother nods toward the garage behind us. “Come inside and I’ll run a quote. Just need the keys.” His eyes slide toward me and narrow. “You staying at Sloane’s?”
“Yeah.”
