Serenity Falls(25)
When my eyes open, I shimmy and shake what my momma gave me in front of Wes, the dressing room attendant, and the three mirrors that are now my backdrop. I look into his eyes, singing to him in the soulful jazzy tone that I’ve been told I have, and drown everything and everyone else out around us. By the time my encore draws to a close, I look around to see numerous sets of eyes on me, but there’s only one set of soul searching, hypnotizing eyes that keep pulling me back. Wes smiles like the Cheshire cat and begins applauding my performance. Hoots and hollers echo throughout the store and cause my face to ignite with a blush. Purposely, I lean into Wes asking, “You ready to go? I think we might have overstayed our welcome.”
On my way back to the dressing room, my fingers dig into the knotted fabric, untying the belt around my waist as I go. As the soft material starts to slip over the curve of my shoulders, calloused fingers smooth over my skin. Warmth rushes through me when I hear the unmistakable, husky tone of Wes’ voice. “Let me.” He slides the arms of the robe the rest of the way down, and sets my skin ablaze from his touch.
“Thank you,” I mumble before I step away from his closeness. I plead with my body to forego the crazy thoughts running through my mind right now. I’d be completely delusional if I said his touch didn’t shock my system. After several deep breaths, I slap on a smile, gather my purse, and turn around. “You ready?” I ask, my eyes meeting his.
“Uh… Aren’t you gonna get one of those?” He points to the robes hanging on the wall behind me.
I shake my head and reach for his hand to pull him away from the dressing rooms. “There is no way you could get me back into one of those robes. If I have to drive back to San Antonio to pick mine up from the dorm, then that’s what I’ll do.”
We walk out of the store and head toward his truck. I drop his hand from mine and make a run for it, because I know he’s going to want to drive. I’ve not made it very far when strong, masculine arms wrap around my waist and haul me off my feet. My body twists and turns as I try to escape Wes’ hold.
“Keys, please,” he says in an amused tone. It’s not a question. He wants me to hand over his keys.
“What? Why? My driving wasn’t that bad,” I squeal as I try to get away. Fisting the keys in my palm, I lift them above my head and out of his reach.
A wicked gleam reflects in the blue pools of his eyes, and one of his hands attacks my rib cage. I wail in laughter, my arms and legs flailing about, as he continues his tickling assault on me. “Just give me the keys, Kenleigh, and all this will be over,” he says over my cackling.
“Never!” I shout, trying my damnedest to keep the keys out of his reach.
“You asked for it.” Effortlessly, Wes tosses me over his shoulder as if I weigh nothing. I know the moment he takes off full speed, running in the direction of the truck. The arm wrapped over the back of my thighs tightens. My hair, which I never put back up, whips me in the face, flying in front of me like a veil. My hips bounce up and down off his shoulder every time his feet hit the pavement.
In-between my laughter, I yell, “Uncle! Uncle! I call uncle!”
“You forfeit?” His strides begin to slow.
“Yes. I forfeit,” I say, still laughing loudly. Not only did I put on a show in Kris’, but now we’ve put one on in the parking lot, as well.
Gently, I’m placed on my feet. I take numerous, calming breaths. My smile never falters when I look up at him. Wes’ blue eyes sparkle with triumph. “Now, how about those keys?” His hand is open and waiting.
Reluctantly, I drop the keys in his hand, humphing in defeat. “Thanks, Gorgeous.” Wes quickly kisses my cheek before he jogs over to the driver’s side of the truck.
Immediately, my eyes widen in shock. The left side of my face burns where his lips briefly touched my skin. Again, deep calming breaths.
After a few moments, I slide into the passenger seat and choose to act as if that little scene didn’t have an effect me. Although, it did. It really, really did. When my seat belts click in place, I look up to find Wes watching me. “What did you need to get from the store?”
With his arm stretched out across the back of the seat, he looks out the rear window while he backs out of the space. “Some Oreos. Mom never keeps any in the house.”
“Oreos?” For some reason, I’m not convinced that Oreos is all he needs.
“Yeah. Oreos. What can I say? I’m addicted to the cream filling.” He shrugs.
Two blocks later, we pull into Dale’s, the local grocery store. I hop out of the truck and slam the door behind me. Right away, Wes is by my side. “So, do you have any little addictions of your own?” he asks, his tone hopeful, like I might let him in on a little secret.