“Hey… uh… are you sure you’re okay?” Wyatt’s tone brimmed with concern.

Did he think James anything more than her bodyguard? Charley shoved at James as a teenage girl might a sibling. “Don’t mind my brother.”

“Keep them-”

“James.” She glanced up at him. “I got it. Seriously.”

He dropped his arms.

She drew in a deep breath, wrapping herself in Wyatt’s scent.

James dropped the set of his shoulders and stepped to Charley’s side but kept one hand around her upper arm. She stepped forward, stumbling at the curb, only to have James pull her tight against him.

He guided her to the hood of the car where she dropped like an anvil on the edge. Charley ventured a half-glance up and found Wyatt clad in jeans and tennis shoes. By the time she reached the hem of a blue T-shirt, James’s growl stopped her.

“Hey, thanks for trying to help.” Charley massaged her forehead to prevent eye contact.

“Your car didn’t hit anything did it? I mean, we didn’t realize we were in the lane so much.” Concern laced Wyatt’s tone.

Charley shook her head, curls dancing around her. “You need help with your car?”

The rumble in James’s chest grew as Charley skimmed farther upward. Wyatt’s biceps strained his shirt sleeves. His chest did the same to the front label for some rock band she didn’t recognize.

“Uh… no, I think he’s got it.” Wyatt thumbed over his shoulder.

The car shook as James kicked the wheel. “We should be going, Charley.”

Her body vibrated with a need only one of her kind could experience. She banked a shiver that ran from top to toe, reaching into her fingertips and leaving a tingle as if they’d fallen asleep.

She leaned back against the trunk, straightened her shoulders and met Wyatt’s gaze with a smile.

“I’m Charley.” She extended a hand despite the dramatic exhale from James.

Wyatt slid his against it. “You have really pretty green eyes.”