He had his arms wrapped around his body and jeez... she just couldn’t do it. She’d never treat a homeless person this way, she wouldn’t do it with him either.
Betty marched back to him, stopping only when she got to the bench. This was so dumb. What if he was a deranged lunatic? People didn’t just sit outside for two days, sleep on a park bench overnight even-- without some serious issues.
“What?” he growled, turning his frosty glare on her. “Come to crow some more?”
Her lips tipped and she held her purse over her head, trying to ward off the rain-- but it was useless, rain ran down the back of her neck and under her jacket. She shivered. “Look, you shouldn’t be out here tonight. Don’t you have some place to go? Somebody to stay with?”
And though his bottom lip was still healing, and looked angry and swollen where it’d been busted, he still had the most sensual lips she’d ever seen. Her stomach fluttered remembering the feel of them this morning.
Betty glanced at the dark green sky. This was tornado country, it wasn’t unheard of to have twisters come down unexpectedly and wreak havoc out of the seeming blue.
That’s when she heard it-- the soft ping of hail hitting asphalt. She winced. They had seconds before they started getting pelted too.
“Dammit,” she grabbed his hand and tugged, “come on!”
She knew he could shake her off if he wanted to, but he didn’t. It was a two hundred yard sprint to her car and by the time they’d made it to her beat up Toyota, she’d already been waylaid by four golf ball sized chunks of ice.
“Enfer,” he growled, “what type of sorcery is this? Ice from the sky?”
Betty heard his mutters, wondered at the strangeness of it, and just as quickly dismissed it. The man was nuts and she needed to get him away from here and away from her. The sooner the better. She shoved her key in the lock, wishing yet again for the funds to buy a car with an automatic unlock button and swung her door open just as another cold stone bit into her cheek.
She muttered as she reached over to unlock his side.
His big frame took up all the passenger space and then some. His knees pressed tight to the dash and his arms were bent at the shoulders, large hands in his lap. He looked like a sardine in a tin can, but a sardine had never looked so sexy.
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. It bubbled up from her belly and spilled from her mouth. At first he scowled harder, which of course, only made her laugh harder.
Then his lips twitched. “This is ah... comfortable?”
She snorted and grabbed a napkin out of her purse to mop up some of the wetness dripping from the tips of her bangs. “You look--” She shook her head. “It’s all your fault.”
The stern lines framed his eyes again.
“Who told you to get so big anyway?” she teased.
Once he seemed to realize she wasn’t mocking him, he visibly relaxed and the sexy as sin grin tipped the corners of his mouth, killing her laughter instantly.
Gorgeous. So gorgeous. Heat settled in her cheeks, and she shifted on her wet car seat, trying to ignore the sudden heat slithering down her belly through her thighs.
Betty distracted herself by glancing in the rearview mirror, pretending to dry off, to try and forget her reckless attraction to the man.
But it was useless, and so was drying off. She needed to get home and change. She tossed the crumpled napkin onto the dash and cranked the car. Blasting the air to heat, she sighed as the warmth penetrated through her chilly skin.
They drove in silence. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but he was looking out the window with a grim set to his stubbled jaw.
Betty licked her lips. Wanting to hear some sort of sound, she clicked on her stereo and groaned when the childish blare of “I love you. You love me...” crackled through her speakers.
He curled his nose, his eyes wide with horror, and she giggled. “Umm... oops, Briley’s tape. Forgot he left that here.” She popped the cassette tape out and switched it to FM. Some song about ‘I want to rock your body all night long’ came on and she sighed. Not much better. She turned the volume down until it was nothing but background noise.
Betty drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, easing through the empty Lebanon streets, headed toward her brother’s house. He might not wake up for a phone call, but he’d wake up if she pounded on the door.
“Who’s Briley?” McHotster asked, his voice low and growly.
A crime how sexy that was, and how much she wished she could hear it in the morning. She shook the silly thought aside, shifting gears to slow down for the red light.
She looked at him, he was looking back out the window. “He’s my nephew.” She smiled. “He’s going to be eleven next week.”
He didn’t say anything. Betty bit her lip, tasting the strawberry sweetness of her lip gloss.
“I wouldn’t have been caught dead listening to such infantile music at that age,” he mumbled and she bristled. He didn’t know, and that was the only thing that stayed her tongue.