Page 28 of A Little Bit Engaged
He glanced over his shoulder. One man held up a cell phone as if taking a photo. The other now had a camera bag in front of him.
Not good.
A small shop was two doors away from the taqueria. It must share the alley behind the buildings. They could slip through the store and out the back door. That sounded better than trying to outrun the photographers.
“In here.” Brody pulled her into the store, hurriedly closing the door behind them. Colorful women’s clothing hung on floor racks and hooks attached to a cork-covered wall.
“Hey.” A young woman with pink-and-green hair greeted them. Her clothing appeared more thrift-store retro than trendy-boutique wear. Her black boots needed polishing. Tattoos covered her arms. “I’m Opal. May I help you?”
He whipped out a twenty-dollar bill. “Is there a back exit we can use?”
“Yes, but we got a delivery this morning,” Opal said. “Boxes are blocking the way.”
He took out two more twenties. “Is there a place we could hang out for a few minutes? We’re trying to ditch two guys.”
Cara peered over her shoulder at the door.
After glancing at Cara, Opal focused on Brody. “You can wait in a dressing room. If someone comes looking for you, I’ll say you went out the back. They won’t know about the boxes.”
Flashing his hey-beautiful-lady smile, he handed Opal the money. “Get rid of them, and there’s more where that came from.”
“Cool.” After folding and tucking the twenty-dollar bills into her bra, she led them to a dressing room. “Wait in here. And be quiet.”
She jerked a heavy velvet curtain shut. The room felt tiny, almost claustrophobic. One wall contained a tall, gilded mirror. The other two walls were painted a metallic blue color.
“Be quiet?” Cara whispered. With her wide eyes, she resembled a spooked animal that was being chased by a pack of dogs. “Like we’re going to throw ourselves a party in here.”
“She means no dressing-room sex.”
Cara drew away. Her eyebrows pinched together at the same time the corners of her mouth curved downward in what he’d come to call her bewildered expression after they’d taken health class together. “That’s a, um, thing?”
He tried not to smile. “Most definitely a thing.”
For a twenty-eight-year-old intelligent woman, Cara O’Neal seemed as naïve as she’d been in high school. It was time to have a little fun.
He ran the side of his finger along her jawline. Her skin was soft and smooth. “We’re engaged and planning a wedding. So if you’re game…”
“Shh.” She clamped her hand over his mouth.
He could lick her palm so easily, but that would freak her out. She might shriek and give them away.
Almost worth it.
She lowered her hand.
He’d waited too long. Probably for the best.
Cara stared at the curtain. “Opal is going to sell us out, or you’ll owe her a lot more money.”
“She won’t sell us out.” He’d used his most charming smile on the salesclerk. “I always carry cash. It’s the easiest way to get out of certain situations.”
Cara covered her ears. “I don’t want to know.”
She really was adorable, a mix of nerves, frustration, and anger. Her lower lip stuck out. No lipstick or hint of gloss—she must have chewed it off at the Bay View House or at lunch—and he wondered what she’d taste like if he kissed her.
Sweet? Or spicy? Her swift temper suggested heat simmered beneath the surface.
Funny how he’d known her for his whole life but never noticed these things until now. Most likely because she was always in her sister’s shadow. Caitlin burned brighter than them both.
