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back. The way her eyes traveled down Wes’ backside made my skin crawl and, to be quite honest, it pissed me right off. Nope, not walking away that easily.
    I took a step toward Wes and placed both hands on his chest, and I looked up into his eyes that doubled in size by the millisecond. “Okay, baby. I’ll go see if I can find us some rope to use later, and maybe some duct tape in case I have a hard time controlling myself like last time.” I patted his arm and turned to walk away.
    “Oh,” he whispered. I turned back around and tried not to giggle at the look on Wes’ face. He looked completely confused as he scratched at his head and his bottom lip quivered while he tried to decide what to say.
    “A feather duster too, yeah? I know how you like when I tickle that spot under your balls.” I didn’t wait to see his reaction, but I heard his high-pitched yet whispered, “What the fuck?” loud and clear.
    I wandered the hardware store for another fifteen minutes alone trying to decipher what had gotten into me. It just wasn’t like me to speak up like that. Being around Wes had me spitting sass all over the place, and I had to admit it felt kind of good. I felt like there was a little flicker of spunk in me that ignited within his presence.
    On my mini journey around the hardware store, I learned two very important lessons. One, aprons took on a whole new sexy appearance when worn by muscly young men eager to help you find your way, and two, the lumber section was the motherland of gorgeous hard-working men. So here I was, in lumber trying to decide what I could make with this piece of lattice while inconspicuously watching the manliness come and go.
    “Excuse me?” a smooth voice said next to me. I turned around to an attractive guy who looked close to my age, not that age was a prerequisite for me. He was taller than I was, though not by much, and had a shaved head with a diamond stud in one ear. I should note he also wore an apron and possessed muscles but had no visible tattoos. “Do you need any help?”
    “No thanks,” I said automatically. I blinked hard. Where did that come from? My reply should be, Yes, kind sir, muscle me into submission.
    “Let me know if you need anything,” he kindly said before walking toward another customer. That was when I heard the fork-scraping giggle that gave me a set of unpleasant chills. Wes must have been an aisle over with Tori, teaching her how to sturdy her bed.
    “You know what?” I called out to muscle man. “I do have a few questions if you don’t mind?”
    He turned back with a gorgeous smile, sans dimples. “Of course.”
    “What kind of paint should I use on this?” I ask him pointing to the shorter piece of the lattice.
    “Spray paint will give you the most even coat, and you will need to make sure you sand and prime it first so the wood doesn’t suck up all the paint,” he told me remaining completely professional. I had to admit it was refreshing. I was used to guys hitting on me far too often. I didn’t even know why. I was pretty plain as far as looks went, and I tended to be fairly reserved. Sometimes I thought maybe that I was too nice, maintaining a sweet, composed demeanor. They thought my smiles were for them, but they were more for me. With a smile on my face, no one asked any questions.
    “And I’m guessing a latex one would be best?” I asked him.
    “You got it,” he said cheerily, flashing me his perfectly straightened smile that elicited a smile of my own. “Anything else, let me know.”
    “I’ve got it from here, homie.” I was startled by Wes’ voice directly to my right.
    “Sir.” The employee nodded his head and looked at me. “Miss, have a nice day.”
    “Dude, did you just check out her tits, yo?” Wes’ voice heightened an octave, and the employee shook his head giving Wes a look reserved only for the crazy train.
    “Wes,” I hissed.
    “No, sir. I was just helping the lady out, and I’ll be on my way.”