"No," he answered too quickly. "You're comin'. So grab your bathin' suit and whatever else you're gonna need at the lake, so we can leave in an hour."
A bathing suit? In front of his family? I'd just come to terms with my arm the day before, but that didn't mean I was ready to have a ton of people I didn't know looking at it weird.
Shit.
"All right." I was such a wuss. Such a big, friggin' coward.
I stood up and slipped my cardigan on over my tank top, grabbing my socks off the floor before rounding the bed. Dex was standing just inside his bathroom, a toothbrush shoved into his mouth, his face still too sleepy.
And the cruel bastard that weaved the fate of people's lives together decided that the beautiful black-haired man with brilliant tattoos all over his upper body, would be standing there in his boxers. The hand on his hip only accentuated the contoured lines of muscle beneath all his tattoos. Damn him.
"You seen my cuts?" he asked through a mouthful of toothpaste.
But of course I was standing there looking at Uriel, the friendly, vibrant octopus that twirled a tentacle around one of his nipple piercings.
I coughed, dragging my eyes up to his bristly beard. "What?"
"My cuts."
"What's that?"
He lowered his chin in disbelief. "My cuts, babe. My MC vest. You seen it?"
The redhead flashed through my memory. Again. I had to fight the urge to call him an idiot for leaving me at his house alone that day. I'm sure my nostrils flared as I plastered a pleasant smile on my face. I'd completely forgotten to tell him about his stupid vest the day before since he'd been so busy with clients. "It's at the shop. Your lady friend dropped it off a couple days ago."
His forehead crinkled. "Who?"
Just how many houses had he gone to that night? You know what? I didn't want to know. God, of all the people in Austin—hell, in the Gulf Coast, that I could have grown feelings for, it'd been Dex. I was a total idiot.
"The redhead," I probably snapped a bit more harshly than I would've liked. "Sky-something."
Dex's lips turned down just a fraction, the lining of his forehead staying in place. "When?"
"That day you were planning on skinning me alive." I might have glanced down at Uriel—not his pierced nipples—again.
He looked at me like he didn't believe me. "Why?"
Why? "She said you left it at her house the night before." Crap, I really did sound a lot more crabby than I would have liked.
At the sound of my tone and the words that had come out of my mouth, Dex pulled the red toothbrush out of his mouth and spit in the sink. He glanced up once before rinsing out his mouth, quirking an eyebrow in my direction. Slowly, he straightened up, those sooty cobalt eyes lingering on me for longer than I was comfortable with.
He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you sound so pissed off?"
"Because you left me alone here all night," I replied just a little too fast. It wasn't because he'd spent the night with a pretty redhead. No, siree. "I kept thinking someone was going to break in and murder me since we're in the middle of nowhere."
"I wouldn't let that happen, Ritz."
I almost rolled my eyes. How would he have stopped that from happening if he hadn't even been around? "All right," I said a little more sarcastically than I intended.
The line of Dex's unshaved jaw twitched. "I wouldn't," he insisted.
"All right," I repeated myself. "It's fine."
I had a sickening feeling that he didn't exactly believe me. "You sure?"
Still, my response of a nod was too instinctual to be played off as cool and distant.
Dex kept that heavy gaze on me as he crossed his darkly tattooed arms over his chest, muscles and colors popping with the movement. He was watching carefully, way too carefully.
Suddenly, I didn't want to keep standing in front of him like I was waiting to go to trial. One foot out of the door, I rolled my eyes at myself for being so dang transparent. "Your thing is at Pins, and I'm going to shower real quick and get dressed."
"Bathing suit, Ritz!" he called out after me.
Like I could forget.
~ * ~ *
The only positive thing I could think of while Dex drove my car down the dusty road that led toward the lake, was that I was extremely grateful I'd been a Floridian before coming to Texas.
I'd grown up a short drive from the beach. I'd lived most of my life right by the ocean. And when you're broke as a joke, you can always go to the beach for free. So it was inevitable that I had almost as many clothes for sand and water as I did for a normal day. Specifically beach wear that could cover me up.