Thick scruff covered an angular jaw, and his nose had the slightest crook that made me wonder if it had been broken before. A ballcapshielded part of his face from view, but I could just make out his eyes—a blue so dark it was the sort of color only found at the bottom of the ocean.
“Gotta say, that’s some creative language,” the man said.
Hell, his voice was just as bad as his chuckle. The sort of tone that had all the tiny hairs on my arms standing at attention. “I didn’t realize someone was lurking around like a creeper,” I snapped.
The man held up his hands in surrender. Hands that looked strong. Long, thick fingers and callused palms. The kind of hands that could lift you up and throw you on the bed—hell. I needed to quit that line of thinking and fast.
“Was just heading over to see if you needed some help,” he said. “Looked like you were doing battle with that tire.”
“I’m good.” My voice was tight, my back molars clamping shut.
The man arched a brow. “You sure about that? I’d hate for any harm to come to a biscuit-eating grandma.”
I scowled at him.Seriously?Was he making fun of me when I was obviously on my last thread of sanity? “I’m fixing it. And I don’t need some overgrown sportsball person getting in my way.”
The man’s lips twitched. “Sportsball?”
I gestured at him. “You’re obviously some sort of athlete. The gear. The muscles?—”
“The muscles, huh?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.
My scowl turned to a glare. “Not interested.”
The man just chuckled again. “Understood. Good luck to you and Grandma. Don’t steal any of her biscuits.”
“Whatever,” I muttered.
“Oh, Warrior?”
I glanced up, still glaring, only harder now that the man had given me a nickname.
He grinned at me, the action hitting me somewhere low I didn’t want to look too closely at. He gestured to his cheek. “You’ve got a little something right here.”
I stilled as the man turned to walk away. Even his walk was hot.Probably because his ass looked muscular enough to bounce a quarter off, even in those damn joggers.
I needed to get laid.
Scrambling to my feet, I hurried to the driver’s side door and flipped down the visor. Grease was smeared all over the side of my face.
Great. Just great.
2
COPE
I walked awayfrom the woman with what felt like the first genuine smile I’d had in months, those hypnotizing turquoise eyes flashing in my mind. She was fierce, that was for damn sure. Fiery and more than a little determined. I respected the hell out of it. Even if I wished she’d let me help.
I couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder for one more look and nearly tripped over my feet. She was leaning into the front seat of her SUV, examining her face in the mirror, but her positioning made the denim of her jeans pull taut across her heart-shaped ass and curvy hips. Hips I’d love to sink my fingers into as I—hell. I was going to hell.
Jerking my gaze away, I forced myself to focus on the facility in front of me. Even from the outside, it looked a hell of a lot nicer than where I’d grown up skating around here. Not as nice as our professional facility in Seattle, but few places were. And the community was lucky that Arnie had decided to build a new spot like this one.
Just as I was about to reach the door, my phone dinged. I adjusted the gear bag on my shoulder and pulled the device from my pocket, seeing my teammate and friend’s name on the screen.
Teddy
Don’t shoot the messenger but someone got ahold of a video of the fight.
I cursed. It wasn’t as creative as Warrior’s biscuit-eating grandma, but it had a hell of a lot more Fs involved.
