But then Cole opened the driver’s door, and his attire surprised me. Black jeans, yes, but with a clean white dress shirt tucked into them and black boots that weren’t covered in dirt like Brady’s sneakers. I wondered if he’d just come from somewhere important, or if he’d possibly dressed nicely for me.
Yeah. Not likely.
As I waited for them to come help with my luggage, I steeled myself for the week ahead. I’d need to be constantly on guard. These men and their buddy Gideon had already humiliated me in front of thousands of followers. They’d tricked and manipulated me. It didn’t matter if they were attractive or if Brady was currently sporting a good-natured grin. They were the enemy, and I needed to act accordingly.
“Hey, Lila,” Brady said, as if we were old friends.
His eyes swept up and down me, taking in my appearance. I’d worn tan pants, heeled sandals, and a pink blouse under my jacket. It was late spring, but in this part of the country, nights could still get quite cold.
“Good thing we brought the pickup,” Cole said, eyeing my suitcases. But then he gave me a polite nod. “Ms. James.” His tone was formal and reserved.
My luggage consisted of a four-piece matched set, the larger three with wheels that made pulling them along seem nearly effortless. They’d been a gift from a luggage company after I’d written a review in an online magazine of the one piece I’d bought myself.
In the time it took me to pull the strap of a small carry-on piece over my head and shoulders, the men had picked up the other suitcases. “I can’t believe you got all of this on and off the train,” Brady said.
“I had help,” I said stiffly.
Brady just grinned. “Bet there are all kind of commuters willing to help a pretty woman with her bags.”
“Commuters can be female too, you know,” I pointed out.
“True. I haven’t been on the Metra in years, so my thinking might be a little outdated.”
“Was your last trip in the 1950s? Because you don’t look old enough for that.”
Brady winked at me as he tucked one suitcase under his arm and held another off the ground. So much for the top-of-the-line wheels on the cases. “I might be a bit behind the times, but I mean no offense.”
Did Brady have to sound so good-natured even when he was saying dumb things? But I bit back a retort. No sense opening hostilities so soon. For one thing, it wasn’t too late for me to snatch my bags and take a train back to Chicago.
But I knew I couldn’t do that to my reputation. My followers were counting on me to show these cowboys up. And besides, I’d soon be stuck in the cab of their truck with them, which didn’t sound pleasant under any circumstances. Probably it was best if we weren’t fighting in that confined space, too.
I followed Brady and Cole, wincing as they tossed my suitcases into the truck bed. It was covered with a layer of old leaves, and I hated seeing them rub against the gorgeous blue-gray shade of my bags. It had always reminded me of a storm.
“Are you sure brought enough stuff?” Cole asked pointedly.
“I make my living from social media,” I said, with a slight dig in my voice. Though I couldn’t deny the popularity ofDown to Earth, their online show, it didn’t seem very well monetized, and I doubted the income went far among the three them. “I have to look nice.”
Brady grinned as he opened the passenger door. “Doesn’t seem like that’d be much of a problem for you.”
Whatever he meant by that—and perhaps it was just a straightforward compliment—was canceled out by the fact that he clearly intended for me to sit in the middle between them. “I prefer a window seat.”
Cole grumbled as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “This isn’t a plane.”
Brady held out a hand to help me up. “I’d take the middle, but my legs won’t fit.”
“I have legs too, you know.”
His eyes swept down my pants, which were on the tight side. “So I see. Come on, it’s not a long drive.”
Rolling my eyes, I ignored his hand and climbed into the truck myself. That small show of independence backfired when I got one foot onto the floor of the cab with my back bent and my ass probably right in his face. Quickly, I twisted around, getting into a seated position before sliding over toward Cole.
Brady had a slight grin on his face, and I bit back a frown. Let him enjoy the view—he wouldn’t be enjoying much else this week. Not if I had my way.
Then he climbed in after me. “If you don’t scoot over, hon, I’ll never get the door closed.” Brady wasn’t as big as his cousin, but with his lean and lanky muscles, he was still quite a bit bigger than me.
Begrudgingly, I inched closer to Cole, angling my body so my legs were still on Brady’s side.
“I’m flattered you think I’m that thin, but I’m not,” Brady complained.