Screw the shirt.
"Forget it," I told Chloe. "Not a big deal."
Chloe's gaze dipped to my chest. She paused, as if taking in the tattoos, the muscles, and everything else. Her lips parted, and her eyes didn't move.
I knew that look. She liked what she saw. And it scared the hell out of her. I'd seen the look before, but never on her. Something about it made it hard for me to breathe.
She swallowed and looked up. "So, you were actuallywearinga shirt?"
Working hard to keep my distance, I gave a casual shrug. "Hey, it happens."
Chloe gave a quick shake of her head. "Sorry," she said, sounding like she meant it. "Rain makes me crabby." She cleared her throat. "I apologize. For Chucky. And the shirt. And um, for my big mouth."
She had a nice mouth. Her lips looked soft and full. It was my turn to swallow.
"Of course," she continued, "it's none of my business what you wear, or don't wear around your own house." She gave a shaky laugh. "I mean, you could go naked, and it'd be no one's business, right?"
Naked. It was a dangerous word at a time like this. Her clothes were thin and soaking wet. They clung to her curves in ways that could drive a guy insane. I felt a slow smile spread across my face. "Yeah?" I said. "Good to know."
A hint of pink darkened her cheeks. "So, uh, I'd better get going."
No. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Behind me, Brittney said, "But what about my purse?"
I felt the muscles in my neck tighten. Screw the purse. Screw Brittney. I frowned. I hadn't screwed her. And I wouldn’t. There was a reason I'd moved out here to the suburbs, and it wasn't to bring my old scene to my new place.
Girls like Brittney? I'd had my share. They were forgettable, hell, interchangeable. Rude or not, it was time to remind her of that fact. I turned to give her a warning look. "Zip it, Bethany."
She frowned. "It's Brittney."
Yeah, I knew. I just didn't care. "Whatever."
Suddenly, Chucky bounded into the entryway, sliding across the marble floor. When he saw Chloe, he gave a loud yip and dove straight for her legs. He slammed into her like he couldn't get close enough, fast enough.
Yeah. Me, too.
Laughing as she staggered backward, Chloe reached down to ruffle his fur. Through the laughter, she choked out, "Bad dog."
Behind me, Brittney made a sound of irritation. "But the purse," she whined. "It was a Louis Vuitton."
I didn't care about the purse. Or Brittney. I turned to give her a shrug. "If you so say so."
When I turned back to Chloe, her smile was gone. For a split second, she looked almost afraid. Why?
I glanced down at Chucky, now lying across Chloe's shoes. I saw no sign of Brittney's purse. Maybe the dog ate the thing and shit it out already. It would serve Brittney right.
I felt my eyebrows furrow. But that wouldn’t be good for the dog, would it? I gave him a good long look. He looked okay. As for Chloe, I wasn't so sure. She was eyeing Chucky with obvious concern.
Again, Brittney's voice sliced out, "You're gonna have to pay for it, you know."
Fine. Whatever. I'd give her the cash later. Not a big deal. I turned to tell her so, anything to make her shut up. But she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at Chloe.
I felt my fingers tighten. Brittney wantedChloeto pay for it? No. That wasn't gonna happen.
Brittney's voice rose. "It was a Louis Vuitton," she repeated.
"Your ass," I told her. "It was a knock-off, and you know it."
