His muffler was smoking, all right. Too much. She may not have been looking at him, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her, for all that he was trying to. It was ridiculous, really. He'd seen plenty of women in bikinis; she was no different from any of them.

He would just keep telling himself that. If he tried hard enough, he might even manage to convince himself of it. He shifted his position on the couch, folding his arms, making an effort to finish his coffee. That would work. That would distract him. Using the mug as a shield, he dug the nails of his good hand into the bruised knuckles of his injured hand. The pain was enough to snap him out of his daze.

"Very nice. I'm sure you'll get a lot of attention."