it was neither his height nor his impressive build that rendered her speechless. Her tongue had been tied by no more than his presence, by that indefinable quality allowing powerful men to command attention with no effort at all.
She did seem to be the only one starstruck, however. Chloe wasn’t the least bit hesitant or shy; she barely let the man get seated before shoving him hard in the chest. He didn’t budge or flinch or even wobble in his seat.
So she shoved him a second time for good measure. “You scare me like that again and you won’t be able to walk for a week, buster.”
All the man did was grin. “You and your cotton candy threats.”
Chloe’s glare finally withered. She rolled her eyes, her mouth twisting into one of her genuinely rare smiles. “Cotton candy, my ass.” Shaking her head, she made introductions. “Rennie, this is my brother, Aiden Zuniga. Aiden, Rennie Faulkner.”
Again, Aiden ruffled Chloe’s hair. This time he earned himself a punch to the shoulder before he turned his gaze and grin on Renata. He rubbed at the spot where Chloe’s fist had made contact. “Renata, right? You went to school with Chloe.”
“Did I know you then?” she asked, knowing full well she’d have remembered this one if he’d been around. That grin. Those eyes. Oh, my. Oh…my. The other Zuniga boys—Colin and Richard and Jay—had been in and out and around the house during those years, but Aiden? No, she’d have remembered him.
Aiden shook his head in answer. “I don’t think so. But then, I wasn’t home very often.”
“You weren’t home ever,” Chloe accused, propping her feet on her brother’s lap. He grabbed her ankle and teasingly threatened to toss her away. “I totally blame Aiden’s abandonment for all my psychological issues.”
One of Aiden’s brows went up. “And, knowing the way your little mind works, no doubt for the national debt, homelessness and Tom and Nicole’s divorce.”
Chloe huffed. “That last one you could’ve gotten to a little sooner, you know. Before I hooked up with Eric would’ve been nice.”
Renata couldn’t help but grin as she returned her gaze to Aiden, compelled to study him more closely while his sister held his attention.
His hair, she decided, had once been blond but had darkened with time to a rich golden-brown. Like buttered wheat toast, or a jug of tea steeping in the sun. His eyes were the dark blue Chloe’s would be if not for her penchant for violet-colored contact lenses. The blue of big sky country, Renata mused, her thoughts spurred by his Wild-West look.
He wore jeans that had been cut from a bolt of denim, but had faded and softened to what she imagined would be the texture of an aged patchwork quilt. His round-toed boots were black, the heels flat, the leather superb. Turquoise snaps closed a short-sleeved white shirt across his broad chest. A silver belt buckle lay flat against his abs.
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