Truth in Watercolors (Truth Series Book 2) by Kimberly Rose

brushed his thumb softly against my fingers before releasing them. My arm fell listlessly to my side, and my hand was lost. He’d completely seduced it with one kiss. He owned my knuckles.
    “So Wes, how do you feel about banging?” Lennon asked tearing me from my euphoria.
    “I love it.” Wes grinned back, not missing a beat. I stepped back putting some distance between us, feeling a little embarrassed by the way my body had reacted, and a lot disappointed at the obvious fact that he did not have the same reaction.
    Lennon whooped out a laugh and put her fist out to pound his. Wes reciprocated and watched her become immediately distracted and prance away to a guy strumming a guitar on the tailgate of a pickup truck. Awesome. They were like twinsies.
    Still chuckling, Wes nudged my shoulder with his elbow. “C’mon C, let’s go hang by my sweet ride.”
    “Yep.” I followed his lead, but he fell back and waited for me to catch up.
    “So, um…” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and kicked a rock across the asphalt. “Whaddya think?” He waved his hand flippantly in the air.
    I smiled over at him. “This is great, Wes.” I felt guilty that I’d never come before. Staying away from Wes used to be more of a priority. I’d have to reinstate that ASAP.
    “Yeah?”
    “Yeah. Really,” I reassured him, truly impressed with the turnout.
    “Thanks, C.” Wes smiled and suddenly hip checked me. Being much larger than I was, that nudge sent me careening into the car to my right. I landed on the front end with a thud, and my heels wobbled from underneath me, sending my ankles collapsing in on themselves. Before I fell to the asphalt, I grabbed onto a giant headlight in a panic.
    Wes laughed. He laughed when I teeter-tottered. He laughed when I slipped. He laughed when he helped me up from my perilous position dangling from a headlight.
    “You all right?” he choked out. Ah. He speaks.
    “About as all right as I can be after being hurled into a boat,” I said righting myself onto the point of my heels with his help.
    “Okay, that’s not a boat. That’s a ’54 Buick Skylark.” Wes gestured toward the car like Vanna White.
    “It looks like it has a nose.” I dusted the pebbles off my butt.
    “It does, huh?” Wes laughed, staring at my butt. “Most of the Buicks here today have noses.” His eyes found mine again. “C’mon. Let’s take a walk. I’ll teach you a thing or two about some classics.” Wes tapped my butt.
    “Wes!” I hissed looking around to see if anyone had seen, but truly trying to hide my panicked blush.
    “Shouldn’t we get to your car?” I asked fanning my cheeks from behind him, careful not to catch up until I’d reined in my emotions.
    Wes turned before I had the chance and dangled his keys in the air before shoving them back into his pocket. “She’s not going anywhere.”
    “Okay.” I breathed, feeling the coolness of the sea air on my face again. “School me, Wes.”
    “Oh, I can scho—” I shook my head and put my hand over his mouth mid crude comment, but not soon enough to stop the eyebrow waggle. Then, there it was, the moist, balmy tickle. Wes licked my palm.
    “Eww, Wes.” I pulled my hand away, laughing in disgust, and wiped my hand down my jeans. “That was gross.” His reaction was to stick his tongue out at me and waggle it profusely. My eyes zeroed in on its movements and widened in shock. Then, instead of being disgusted, I became irritatingly turned on.
    “So that over there,” Wes pointed casually just ahead of us, and I was thankful, so damn thankful, for the diversion. “Is a Ford Thunderbird. It looks a lot like my Bel Air, but if you know your cars, you can see the difference immediately.”
    “Besides the emblems on the front that say what they are?” I asked proud of my recovery.
    “Yeah, smartass.” He chuckled lowly. “See the fin on the back?” he asked walking toward the rear of the car. “The Thunderbird’s fin is