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Without it, in street clothes, he would be easy to overlook in a crowd, especially a crowd like this one. But with all those colorful ribbons adorning his chest, in that white jacket that had been tailored to fit his trim body, his eyes seemed an even darker shade of blue, and his jaw seemed more square.
Everyone wanted to talk to him. And though Brittany couldn’t hear what Wes was saying, he was evidently telling a long story, filled with gestures and big facial expressions. When he was done, he pointed directly at Brittany. And they all turned to look at her, almost as one.
.....
The look in Wes’s blue eyes—a kind of a thoughtful intensity, as best she could read it—was making her nervous. This man wasn’t the happy-go-lucky second cousin to a leprechaun with ADD that she’d first thought him to be. He wasn’t jittery, as she’d first thought, although standing still was clearly a challenge for him. No, he was more like a lightning bolt—crackling with barely harnessed excess energy. And while it was true he had a good sense of humor and a killer smile, there was a definite darkness to him. An edge. It made her like him even more.
Oh, danger! Danger, Will Robinson!
.....
