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I can’t stop my inhale as he goes forit.
He comes up with it in time, but not before I get a look at an intriguing trail of hair that starts low on hisabs.
Continues down and disappears under the whitecotton.
I’m envious of a gym towel. This is a newlow.
“Miss!” We both turn as the attendant catches up to me. “You can’t be in here. You’re breaking all kinds ofrules.”
“Excuse me,” I say, lifting my chin. Then I turn back to Wes. “It was nice to… seeyou.”
“Of course,” he says, still looking tousled and way too sexy for his owngood.
I go outside and notice a guy in kitchen clothes cleaning up broken glass. Probably the tray the attendant dropped when I ducked into the changingroom.
I worked in the service industry in college. It sucks cleaning up after people who think they own you because they pay their drinkbill.
Although the scenery is better, I can only imagine working somewhere like this isworse.
I hold out a hand for his broom and bucket. “Put the charges on ouraccount.”
The way I say it leaves no room for arguing, and I look for a spot with no glass so I can kneel and sweep up theshards.
My plan to come down here was half-cocked at best. Even if I found my father, I wouldn’t really give him hell. That’s not how our family works. In twenty-four years, I’ve never chewed out my dad. Not that I haven’t thought aboutit.
I’m not sure why I reacted so strongly to my dad’s actions with Beck. Maybe because they were so out of line.Or because they showed how much hecared…
I get halfway done before a familiar voice cuts into my thoughts. “Let mehelp.”
I tilt my face up to see Wes hovering over me, wearing chinos and a navy V-neck sweater, his hair still damp from hisshower.
I hand him the dustpan. “No tietoday?”
“Didn’t want you ripping it offme.”
I smile, my eyes on the carpet. “So you knew I’d be here? And also, I didn’t rip it off you. I just figured you’d look more comfortable without it. And you do.” I sneak a look at him as he empties the glass into the bucket with a shimmer of clinks. “How’d you get sosweaty?”
“Jake and I box Tuesdays andFridays.”
Picturing Wes half-naked in the ring, those muscles in action, is a distractingvisual.
“Are you anygood?”
“I hold my own. But it’s not really fighting. It’s asport.”
“Maybe you’ve never had something worth fightingfor.”
“Does anybody in thisplace?”
I let out a low laugh. “Of course they do, Wes. You think people who want something fight hard? Not nearly as hard as people with something tolose.”
He turns the words over in hismind.
“Rena, on her knees for a man?” Jake’s voice has both of usturning.
I shoot him a syrupy smile. “Don’t bejealous.”
Jake glances at his watch. “Wesley, something came up, and I need to get going. I’m sure Rena would share a drink with you.” They shake hands, and Jake tosses me a look on his way to the door. “Oh, and I looked at your submission for the charity event next week. You know your mother’s on theboard.”
