Page 9 of Blame it on the Kiss
“Funny. You don’t strike me as someone modest.” He turned and wrangled his wet pants down his legs. Getting the dry sweats and shirt on felt great.
“Oh my god.”
He didn’t turn or say anything even though the frustration in Honor’s voice made it difficult.
“My pants are stuck. I don’t think I can get them off without some help. Jesus, wet jeans are heavy and uncooperative.”
A grin stretched across his face. “You want my help?”
She let out a deep breath. “Yes, but you have to close your eyes.”
“You going commando tonight?” he teased.
“No, but…”
He shut his eyes and turned. She took his outstretched hand and tugged him down to the ground. Once there, she helped him latch on to the bunched up denim at her thighs, he guessed.Do not peek, Bishop. Do not peek.
“But?”
“My panties are white and now see-through and there’s not a lot to them.”
“Gotcha.” There wasn’t a red-blooded man alive who wouldn’t peek. “Let’s get these off you.” He pulled, she pushed and wiggled, and he got the pants to her feet in no time.
“Thank you,” she said, a little out of breath.
“No problem.”
“Bryce!”
“What?” Christ, she had sexy legs, and the barely-there material at their juncture left little to the imagination, so his thoughts leaped to about a dozen dirty scenarios.
“Your eyes are open!”
“Yeah, sorry.” He jumped to his feet and gave her his back while she mumbled things like jackass and jerkwad as she got dressed.
“I’m done,” she huffed.
She wore a pair of loose sweats and had freed her damp hair so it fell past her shoulders. A small black smudge stained the smooth skin underneath her left eye.
He licked his thumb and ran it over the blemish. Her breath caught. “You had something there.”
“Honor?” came a guy’s voice from the driveway.
Her attention jumped over his shoulder. “Cooper. What are you doing here?”
Bryce turned, and much to his surprise recognized Cooper right away. He’d had a few conversations with him over the phone and they’d met briefly during White Strand’s film festival.
“Sophie wanted me to come by.” Coop smiled warmly at Honor before turning an eye to him. “Hey dude, I know you, right?”
“Hey, Cooper. Bryce Bishop.” He put his hand out.
“Mr. Bishop, that’s right.” Cooper gave a firm shake. “We’ve got a meeting next week.”
“Hold on,” Honor said, stepping between them. “What meeting? How do you guys know each other?”
“I’m hoping to represent him. How do you two know each other?”
Honor put her hands on her hips. “Cooper’s my brother.”
