up.
“Josie still make the best red chili this side of the Pecos?” It was a stupid thing to say, but with less than four hours of sleep and no coffee, it was the best he could come up with. It seemed to work, because she stopped and stared at him.
“Oh, no.” She waggled a finger beneath his nose. “You’re not eating breakfast here. You’re finding your motorcycle and leaving, A-S-A-P.”
“And just how do you expect me to find it when I don’t know where the hell Sheriff Winslow put it?”
She thought for a moment before her eyes lit up. “Kenny drove it off.”
“Kenny Gene got on my chopper!”
Since he had never been much of a yeller, Hope blinked. “How else do you think they were going to get it out of the middle of the street?”
He hadn’t thought about that. He’d been too pissed off to do more than fantasize about getting his hands around his sister’s neck. And Hope’s. Agitated, he ran a hand through his hair, but he should’ve known better than to show any weakness around his arch nemesis.
“Aww, does the big, bad biker not like to share his toys?”
Damn straight, he didn’t like to share his toys. Especially with some hick who didn’t know the time and effort put into one of his bikes. But he wasn’t about to let Hope know how pissed he was.
“So you think Kenny has it?”
“Probably.” She started walking again. “Unless he wrapped it around a telephone pole.” She shot a sly glance over her shoulder. “He was pretty drunk last night.”
“Funny.”
“I thought so.” She grinned, showing off her crooked incisor. Besides her disposition, it was her only flaw. But Colt had never viewed it as such. For some reason, he found it endearing and extremely sexy.
“So are you going to give me a lift out to Kenny’s?” he asked, in an attempt to get his rebellious mind on other things.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not if you want me gone, you don’t.”
“Fine.”
It was the first time Hope had ever conceded anything to him, and his enjoyment of the day increased tenfold—even if the concession had to do with getting rid of him.
And as they walked together down the uneven sidewalk, Colt took the time to look around.
Bramble had changed little over the years. There was the pharmacy, where he’d swiped more than his fair share of Fireballs and Bazooka bubble gum. The Duds N Such, where he drooled over a pair of lizard cowboy boots. And Josephine’s Diner, where he worked every night after leaving Jones’ Garage. But what
had
changed was hisfeeling about the town. What had once seemed as suffocating as a wet wool blanket now felt, if not welcoming, at least familiar.
“I guess they still have the Parade of Queens,” he said as they walked along.
“According to Mama, every year.”
“Minus the most popular homecoming queen.”
Hope glanced over at him. “If you are referring to me, then yes. Although I hear my sister filled in for me this year.”
He expected to see a thundercloud settle over her features. Instead, she laughed. It had been a while since he’d heard the deep, husky sound or felt the warmth it caused deep down in his belly.
“I have to say that’s one thing I’ll gladly give her,” she said.
“Not the hog-calling trophies?”
“Are you kidding? I don’t share my trophies with anyone,” she mimicked his earlier response to Kenny riding his bike.
“I don’t think hog-calling trophies are in the same league with eighty-thousand-dollar motorcycles.”
She halted in mid-strut and stared up at him with eyes the same color as the sky above them. “Do you mean to tell me that motorcycle cost you close to a hundred thousand dollars?”
“It’s worth that, and then some.”
“Have you lost your mind, Colt Lomax?”
He grinned down at her and shrugged. “Some people think so.”
“Hey, Hope!”
Startled, they turned and looked down the street.Kenny Gene stood out in the parking lot of Josephine’s Diner, a parking lot filled
“Josie still make the best red chili this side of the Pecos?” It was a stupid thing to say, but with less than four hours of sleep and no coffee, it was the best he could come up with. It seemed to work, because she stopped and stared at him.
“Oh, no.” She waggled a finger beneath his nose. “You’re not eating breakfast here. You’re finding your motorcycle and leaving, A-S-A-P.”
“And just how do you expect me to find it when I don’t know where the hell Sheriff Winslow put it?”
She thought for a moment before her eyes lit up. “Kenny drove it off.”
“Kenny Gene got on my chopper!”
Since he had never been much of a yeller, Hope blinked. “How else do you think they were going to get it out of the middle of the street?”
He hadn’t thought about that. He’d been too pissed off to do more than fantasize about getting his hands around his sister’s neck. And Hope’s. Agitated, he ran a hand through his hair, but he should’ve known better than to show any weakness around his arch nemesis.
“Aww, does the big, bad biker not like to share his toys?”
Damn straight, he didn’t like to share his toys. Especially with some hick who didn’t know the time and effort put into one of his bikes. But he wasn’t about to let Hope know how pissed he was.
“So you think Kenny has it?”
“Probably.” She started walking again. “Unless he wrapped it around a telephone pole.” She shot a sly glance over her shoulder. “He was pretty drunk last night.”
“Funny.”
“I thought so.” She grinned, showing off her crooked incisor. Besides her disposition, it was her only flaw. But Colt had never viewed it as such. For some reason, he found it endearing and extremely sexy.
“So are you going to give me a lift out to Kenny’s?” he asked, in an attempt to get his rebellious mind on other things.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not if you want me gone, you don’t.”
“Fine.”
It was the first time Hope had ever conceded anything to him, and his enjoyment of the day increased tenfold—even if the concession had to do with getting rid of him.
And as they walked together down the uneven sidewalk, Colt took the time to look around.
Bramble had changed little over the years. There was the pharmacy, where he’d swiped more than his fair share of Fireballs and Bazooka bubble gum. The Duds N Such, where he drooled over a pair of lizard cowboy boots. And Josephine’s Diner, where he worked every night after leaving Jones’ Garage. But what
had
changed was hisfeeling about the town. What had once seemed as suffocating as a wet wool blanket now felt, if not welcoming, at least familiar.
“I guess they still have the Parade of Queens,” he said as they walked along.
“According to Mama, every year.”
“Minus the most popular homecoming queen.”
Hope glanced over at him. “If you are referring to me, then yes. Although I hear my sister filled in for me this year.”
He expected to see a thundercloud settle over her features. Instead, she laughed. It had been a while since he’d heard the deep, husky sound or felt the warmth it caused deep down in his belly.
“I have to say that’s one thing I’ll gladly give her,” she said.
“Not the hog-calling trophies?”
“Are you kidding? I don’t share my trophies with anyone,” she mimicked his earlier response to Kenny riding his bike.
“I don’t think hog-calling trophies are in the same league with eighty-thousand-dollar motorcycles.”
She halted in mid-strut and stared up at him with eyes the same color as the sky above them. “Do you mean to tell me that motorcycle cost you close to a hundred thousand dollars?”
“It’s worth that, and then some.”
“Have you lost your mind, Colt Lomax?”
He grinned down at her and shrugged. “Some people think so.”
“Hey, Hope!”
Startled, they turned and looked down the street.Kenny Gene stood out in the parking lot of Josephine’s Diner, a parking lot filled
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