Page 29 of Tempting as Sin
How, Lily wondered, as she followed Bailey’s blue bicycle down the hill and past the city limits, barely able to keep up, had they ended up with this plan?
Because it was logical, that was how. Because it was necessary. That was why she and Bailey and Chuck had waited on Rafe’s—Clay’s—front porch while he’d gotten ready to go, and why Chuck was shedding his remaining fleas in Rafe’s car right now.
She was never going to manage the “Clay” thing. She’d just call him “Hey, you.” It wasn’t like she’d have to call him anything much. Civility. Chuck-management. That was all.
“You need a leash before you can take him with you on the bikes,” Rafe had pointed out when they’d come up with the first part of the plan. “He should stay in the car until you get that.” Which was true, and it was also true that it wasn’t appropriate to put Bailey in either her car or Rafe’s, so she and Bailey had waited for Rafe to take a shower and change. And when he’d come out of the house again, his short hair still damp, wearing cowboy-cut Wranglers, a gray T-shirt, and scuffed boots, she’d reminded herself of all that once again. That they needed him for all the varied parts of this plan, starting with meeting Bailey’s grandmother, and never mind that loose-limbed way he walked, something about lean hips and athletic confidence and man.
She’d jumped up and headed for her bike, not wanting to study him too closely, but Bailey had had no such qualms. She’d hung back and said, “Hey. How come your eyes look different?”
Rafe slipped on his sunglasses, a flat-brow, gunmetal-rimmed pair that unfortunately only made him look even more like the kind of sinfully decadent treat you craved but didn’t dare eat, because it was so bad for you. “Could be it’s because I’m clean.” His accent was all the way back to Clay Austin, like the costume change had flipped the switch. Which it probably had.
Lily shouldn’t have said anything. She did, of course. “The sunglasses might be over the top. Cowboys don’t wear sunglasses. They wear hats.”
He gave her a rueful, lopsided smile that proved he didn’t have much to learn about cowboy charm. “You know what they say. All hat, no cattle. I’m working my way up to earning the hat. That hard riding and all.”
Bailey said, “It isn’t because you’re clean, though. Your eyes were kind of shiny before, and now they aren’t.”
“They change,” Rafe said. “With my moods. Never heard of that?”
“Oh.” Bailey digested that for a minute. “I never knew anybody whose eyes did that.”
“But then, you didn’t know about the blue-ringed octopus, either,” Rafe said. “The world is full of wonder.”
“It is not,” Lily muttered under her breath. Rafe raised a black eyebrow at her, and she added, “The eyebrow thing also doesn’t fit. Stop it.”
“Ah,” he said. “Good to know. Ready to go?”
“Yes.” She would have stalked over to her bike and made a dignified if overalls-intensive exit, but they had to get Chuck into Rafe’s car first.
Five minutes later, the garage door was open, Rafe’s car door was open, too, and Bailey was still beside it, patting the seat and saying, “Come on, Chuck. You can do it. It’s fun!” And Chuck was still hanging back and looking worried.
“Do you have any ham?” Lily asked Rafe.
“Right here in my pocket,” Rafe said. “Oh, wait. No, as it happens, I’m fresh out of ham. I got here two hours ago.”
“I was just asking,” Lily said. “Some people carry snacks on car trips. People who aren’t too fancy for that. They might have ham. String cheese. Potato chips. Oreos. Gummy bears. Any number of dog-enticing treats to while away the miles.”
Rafe, of course, looked revolted. “My body is a temple.”
“You have so much to learn,” she said. “That’s what you say to the girl.”
“That my body is a temple, and she should worship it? Kind of a dick move, isn’t it?”
She tried not to laugh, which meant it came out as a snort, which made her clap her hand over her mouth and madehimlaugh. She did not talk to attractive men when she was muddy and messy, and she sure didn’t snort when she laughed. “No,” she said. “You sayhersis.”
“Oh.” He considered that. “Nah. Still a dick move. Next you’ll be telling me to ask her if it hurt when she fell from heaven. Right. I don’t have any gummy bears or Oreos, so what do we do?”
“Go back into the house and get a handful of dog food,” she said. “Like a breadcrumb trail. As hungry as Chuck is, I’m guessing it’ll work.”
It did. Although when Bailey shut the door on Chuck, he started barking, and he kept on doing it.
“Come on,” Lily told Bailey. “Let’s go.”
“Chuck’s scared, though,” Bailey said.
“We’ll ride ahead of him, so he sees us,” Lily said. “Then he won’t be scared.” She hopped on her bike. “Lead the way.”
Rafe was, in words Clay Austin might have used if he were here—which he was—a stone-cold fool. He was meant to be focused. He was meant to be anonymous. Instead, he was meeting people on purpose and going barking mad. Literally.
