Page 46 of Brewbies
“I know that I paid off a mountain of medical debt by selling my used socks on eBay.”
His lips twitched. “That so?”
“Yes, sir.” She stood and gave into the delicious full-body stretch that pulled her limbs like taffy. “An extra ten dollars for every additional hour. Twice that if any of the hours happened to be in the gym.”
The sheriff stared at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. “You’re not serious.”
Darby grinned at him, savoring the way his eyes widened in disbelief. “Not if I can help it. But yeah. It’s not as much as I made selling pies I’d stepped in, but the packing and shipping overhead on those was outrageous.”
Amazing how similar jealousy and disapproval looked on a man’s face.
Ethan slowly shook his head and walked over to the industrial sink in the corner. Water gushed from the faucet, and steam curled up from the basin. Darby couldn’t help but feel that he wanted to wash his hands of this conversation.
Or of her.
And could she really blame him?
Glancing down at her feet, she saw herself through Ethan’s eyes. The sidewalk silt and God knew what else she’d picked up and dragged into his spotless shop. Like the smudges of mud and moss she’d left in his vehicle after her less-than-graceful ride the night before.
The realization made her insides twist with a feeling she couldn’t name but cared for not at all.
“I should probably get out of your hair,” Darby said, quickly making her way over to where Ethan stood by the sink.
His hand closed over her wrist as she reached for her shoes. “Wait.”
She waited.
Ethan released her hand and turned back to the sink. Water spattered in the basin as he wrung out a rag obviously made from an old towel that had outlived its original purpose. He draped it over the basin and turned to her.
Before Darby registered what he was doing, Ethan gripped her hips and lifted her effortlessly to his worktable.
Her mouth dropped open more out of surprise than objection as his fingers circled her ankle and lifted her foot.
Ethan swaddled it in the warm towel and began to gently massage her instep. Its heat seeped into her skin, relaxing every muscle in her body, and Darby couldn’t help but melt into his touch.
The sensation sent tingles of pleasure rippling up her leg, making Darby suck in a breath as his gentle grip lingered on her tired arch.
“How much you think I could get for this?” Ethan asked, his voice low and a little gravelly as he held up the rag with a grayish footprint.
“Hundred fifty, at least.” Her voice sounded distant to her own ears as he repeated his ministrations on the other foot.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Setting the cloth aside, he reached for one of her shoes. His fingertips brushed her ankle as he slipped it on her foot and fastened the impossibly tiny buckle.
“Tell the truth, Sheriff Townsend. You’ve done this before.”
Ethan looked at her below the pale tips of his long sable lashes in a way that made Darby’s heart beat faster. “Yep.”
Warmth spilled through her middle, pooling low and heavy in her belly. Under normal circumstances, this would have lit up her mile-wide jealous streak.
But here, in the rare golden light of this workshop that felt like a scrap of his soul made manifest, she couldn’t help but feel strangely honored by the personal revelation.
And more than a little turned on.
Seduced by the mental voyeurism of imagining him handling another woman this reverently.
Ethan finished with the second buckle, but instead of releasing his grip, he trailed his hand upward. Fingertips lifted to avoid the nasty bruise on her shin, he pushed back the hem of her dress, revealing her bandaged knee.
Darby’s mouth went dry as the moisture seemed to relocate itself to other places.
