Throttle (Jack 'Em Up #3)

by Shauna Allen

  “Okay,” I relented on a choked whisper.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay, I want you.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “Great, actually. You’re a smart woman.”

  I ignored that as he continued. “Now that we have that settled, I have something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Shoot.”

  “That hunk of junk you drive.”

  “Betsy?” I glanced around as if the car might’ve heard his harsh words. “I love Betsy. She’s not a hunk of junk.”

  I could practically hear him rolling his eyes over the phone. “I know you like your car, but let’s be real. She’s seen her glory days. A long freakin’ time ago.”

  I stared at the worn carpeting, the torn and tattered vinyl seating, the broken stereo knob. “Yeah, maybe. So what?”

  “So I’d like you to bring it by the shop. Let me check everything over, make sure it’s safe. Then . . . when you’re ready . . . I’d like to help you sell her and pick a new car. A dependable car.”

  “Dependable?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that what you think I need? Something dependable?”

  “Yeah.” He sounded confused.

  “If I ever got rid of Betsy—and I’m not saying I am—are you implying I’m boring? Not worthy of something cute and fun and fast? A convertible sports car or something?”

  “I . . . well, you could get whatever you wanted. You’d look hot in a little red convertible.”

  “Hot.” I snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

  He tried his best to convince me how hot I was (and I let him) as I drove home, and his flattery made me agree to his terms. Car inspection Friday afternoon, then dinner while Ryder spent the night with the sitter and maybe, if I played my cards right, an adult sleepover.

  Trace

  We were slammed at work all week, which seriously cut into my flirty text time with Tori. I didn’t even get to see her on Wednesday when I made my sacrifice at the altar of Mrs. Delgado by reading at story time while she worked on teacher stuff. I even busted out the funny voices Ry liked at bedtime.

  By Friday, I was chomping at the bit to see her.

  I checked the clock . . . seven hours to go.

  The shop was quiet today, with Jesse and Blake out on a resto bid, leaving me with Micah. He was downright chatty today, speaking a whole five sentences, but that wasn’t saying much. Over lunch in the back office, I told him about my plans for the night.

  He chewed his salad thoughtfully. “So, you’re going to try and convince her to get rid of her car?”

  Six sentences. Must be a record. I drug my fries through the ketchup puddle. “Yup.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t have my girl driving around in a death trap.”

  I met his eyes when he didn’t respond. “What?”

  He shrugged and forked a tomato slice. “Never heard you call someone your girl.”

  I took a big bite of burger to stall. Trust Micah to catch my damn Freudian slip.

  “I think that’s great,” he added, not honing in on my embarrassment like one of the other guys would’ve done. “She seems nice.”

  “Yeah.” Lame, I knew. I didn’t know what else to say. Was Tori my girl? Why had I said that? Was I making too big a deal of it?

  Probably.

  We finished our lunch in silence, then got back to work just as the guys rolled up in the shop’s truck, a tarp covered lump on the trailer. Blake hopped out, shit-eating grin firmly in place.

  “Got the ’57?” I strode over, wiping my hands on a rag.

  “Hell yeah.” Blake leapt up on the trailer with Jesse and they drew the tarp back. The 1957 Chevy Bel Air was not much to look at with its oxidized black paint and dusty tires, but her body was straight and her potential obvious.

  I whistled between my teeth. “Nice one.” I ran my palm along the front fender. “Did you get a good price?”

  “Bid it down by nearly two grand.”

  “Damn, dude. Good work.”

  We admired the Chevy for a while longer, her curves finer than a Victoria’s Secret model. Blake had definitely scored with this one.

  “Rachel said she ran into Tori the other day,” Jesse said as we bent under the hood.

  I glanced up from the corroded radiator. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’m supposed to be subtle about asking what’s going on with you two.”

  I laughed. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Rach and Delilah really like her. Guess they think you need a good woman, bro.”

  I stood and leaned against the bumper. “Well, you can tell her not to worry her pretty little pregnant self. I’ve got this.”

  “So, there is something going on?”

  I glanced away to the Hyundai I’d been working on. “You could say that.” I flashed him a scowl before he could open his mouth. “That’s all I’m saying right now. I don’t kiss and tell.”

  I tinkered around the rest of the day, wondering why I’d been so vague with my friend. What was I hiding? Nothing, I decided. There wasn’t anything to talk about. Yet.

  I startled when a blond head popped under the hood next to me, yanking me from my thoughts. “Anything interesting in here?”

  “Shit.” I stood, kissing the smile off Tori’s face. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to get between a man and his machine?”

  She took in the Sonata with smiling, appraising eyes. “His machine, huh?”

  I slammed the hood. “Metaphorically speaking.”

  “Right.”

  She walked beside me as I made my way to the big sink to wash my hands. Once I was clean, I yanked her in for a proper kiss. She ignored my dirty work clothes and kissed me back like maybe, just maybe, she’d missed me as much as I’d missed her.

  I glanced up, still holding her close, when someone cleared their throat behind us. Jesse lifted his brow with a smirk.

  My hands still clasped around her, I flipped him off and he sauntered away with a laugh. I drew back, but kept her hand in mine as we moved toward the bay door. “Rust bucket out here?”

  She slapped my arm with her free hand. “Be nice or I won’t let you touch her.”

  I signaled for her keys, which she reluctantly handed over. Slipping into the worn vinyl seat, I was surprised by how good the car smelled. Clean with a hint of Tori’s sexy perfume, there wasn’t any trash or dust anywhere.

  I cranked it to life, cringing at the grind and hiccup. Shaking my head, I popped the hood and checked all her fluids. Decent, but could use some work and new spark plugs. I made the round, checking her tires and every other part I could easily get to.

  “What’s the verdict, doctor?” she asked after I puttered around her Honda for nearly an hour.

  I peered over to where she was sitting on top of the workbench, leaning forward on her hands, her feet swinging adorably. “Minimum, you need a tune-up, oil change, and radiator flush. New tires wouldn’t be bad either.” I handed her back her keys. “How long have you had that thing?”

  She frowned. “Six years.”

  “You get it from a junk yard or something?”

  I sidestepped her swinging leg as it got precariously close to the family jewels. “No. A very nice, older gentleman sold it to me for a good price. I was broke, it was a good car. Now quit picking on her.”

  I laughed and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her down. “Fine. Just let me do my thing so I’ll feel better, okay?”

  Smiling, she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Why?”

  “I want to know you’re safe.”

  “Why?”

  It was my turn to frown. I might’ve been out of practice with women and relationships, but I knew a loaded question when I heard one. “What do you mean ‘why’? I care about you.”

  She pulled me down for a kiss, her whisper hot on my lips. “I care about you, too, you big lug.”

  Once I had my fill of kissing her and was satisfie
d she’d let me fix up her car, we headed out in my Chevy. I was probably more excited than I should’ve been at the prospect of an entire adults-only night.

  I gripped her hand and laced our fingers. “Just let me get Ryder set to spend the night at Mrs. Callahan’s and get a quick shower, then we’ll do whatever you want for dinner, okay?”

  “Where does he go after school?”

  I studied her in the sinking sun. Her hair was highlighted to the color of liquid gold. She looked like an angel. How the hell did I get so lucky? “She gets him off the bus and keeps him until I get home from work.”

  “Oh.” She chewed her bottom lip and I forced myself to keep my attention trained on the road. “She doesn’t mind keeping him all night, too?”

  I laughed. “Not at all. She’d do it more often if I let her. She adores him and spoils him rotten. Her kids and grandkids don’t come around much, so it’s a good deal for both of them. She gets a kid fix plus some of my handyman skills, he gets cookies and lots of hugs.” I winked at her. “I get a few, too, if I’m really good.”

  Tori snorted a laugh. “I’ll bet.”

  We made it to the condo in record time and I found Ry outside, walking Mrs. Callahan’s old Beagle, Simon.

  “Daddy!” Ry tugged Simon’s leash to head my way, but the old guy was not budging from his patch of grass.

  I waved at Mrs. Callahan, who was watching them from the shaded picnic bench, and made my way over, bending to pet the dog. “Hey, Buddy.”

  Ryder let me hug him, but I knew the moment he spotted Tori behind me. “Miss Waters!” He relinquished Simon’s leash to me and ran over. In a natural move I’d only seen my mom and sister master, she caught him and scooped him up into her arms, a big smile on her face.

  “Hi, Ryder. Is that your dog?”

  “No. That’s Mrs. C’s doggie. He’s nice, but he’s old. Daddy says we can’t have a dog until we get a real house.”

  He chattered on and I pointed, indicating I was heading inside. Tori nodded and I walked old Simon back to his master. “I’ll grab a bag for him and be right back. Need anything else?”

  Mrs. Callahan shook her head. “Just bring his pajamas and toothbrush. I still have the clothes he left last time all washed and ready.”

  “Sure thing. Be right back.”

  I unlocked my door and slid inside, peeking one last time over my shoulder. Tori had made her way over to Mrs. Callahan, Ry still on her hip. The two women were smiling as they shook hands. I probably should’ve introduced them, but it appeared that they had it under control.

  Inside, I rushed through the quickest shower of my life and threw on clean clothes before rifling through Ryder’s room for clean PJs, tossing them in his Marvel backpack, along with his toothbrush and favorite Daredevil toy. As I passed through the living room on my way out, a sudden, frightening thought occurred to me. Would we be coming back here after dinner? I hadn’t thought that far ahead, only picturing Tori naked again. The place didn’t matter.

  Cursing under my breath, I collected up our dirty dishes and tossed them in soapy water in the sink, emptied the trash, and sprayed a quick burst of Febreeze. Hawaiian breeze ought to cover anything I missed. Good enough.

  Outside, the sun had sunk deeper into the orange and pink sky, creating a bubble of soft light that made everything feel soft and dreamy. Shaking my head at my romantic thoughts, I made my way over to the women. Ryder had wandered to the edge of the grassy area, Simon’s leash wrapped around his legs.

  “Here you go. Thanks again for keeping him.” I handed Mrs. Callahan the backpack.

  “Oh, you’re welcome. Thanks for sharing him with me.” She tipped her head toward Tori. “Your girlfriend is wonderful. Why didn’t you mention her before?”

  I caught Tori’s blush out of the corner of my eye. “Oh, well . . .”

  Mrs. C laughed. “Get out of here, you two. Ryder and I will be fine.”

  She didn’t have to tell me twice.

  Tori

  For some reason, I was nervous. Trace and I had flirted and kissed and even slept together, but somehow, tonight felt different. Maybe because of my newfound feelings for him, that were definitely way out of the bounds of friendship. Did he feel it, too?

  I shot a glance his way as he drove us to the restaurant. I’d picked seafood and it appeared we were heading to the seawall. The last vestiges of waning sunlight illuminated the auburn streaks in his deep brown hair. His profile was strong and lean, his angular cheekbones rising to eyes I knew were deep river water green and full of mischief. His chin was covered in a day’s worth of stubble and I blushed, remembering how that felt against my inner thighs.

  As if reading my thoughts, he squeezed my fingers and peeked my way. “You look nice.”

  I smoothed my hand down the steel blue cotton of the dress I’d worn just for him. It hugged me in all his favorite places and made my eyes more blue than gray, which I liked. “So do you.”

  He smiled and faced the road again as classic rock hummed in the background. In his ever-present faded jeans and a plaid button-down, he was casual deliciousness. Well, he always was, but even more so tonight. My body felt electric, my cells humming in anticipation of his touch, wanting more than the searing memory of his skin on mine.

  Patience, I chided myself as we arrived at our destination.

  The restaurant was gorgeous. A quaint place with old prints of fisherman and their catches lining the dark paneled walls. Waiters and waitresses scurried around in black and white, the scent of fine wine and garlic wafted through the air, delicate music hovered in the background. The pretty red-headed hostess, whose gold nameplate read ‘Amber’, showed us to a corner table with a big smile, her eyes subtly checking Trace out as we sat. He didn’t seem to notice and was the picture of politeness. Score one for him.

  Once we were served our wine, he raised a glass. “To tonight.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  Our glasses clinked deeply.

  Dinner was delicious, but I don’t remember eating a bite. His glimmering gaze across the table, wrapped in flickering candlelight like a mysterious gift, was throwing me so many curve balls I couldn’t keep up.

  Could he live up to the promise in those eyes? He was promising me tonight. But it felt a little bit like forever, too.

  “So, I was thinking . . .” he said, pausing to offer me a bite of the decadent chocolate lava cake.

  I chewed and swallowed, unable to contain my orgasmic groan. He smirked at me and I licked my lips. “What were you thinking?”

  He scooped up a second bite on his fork and swirled it through the chocolate sauce, sliding it between his lips. “I was thinking that you should meet my family.”

  “Your family?”

  “Yeah.” He offered me another bite, but I waved it off. Shrugging, he ate it. “My folks will be home from their vacation next month. I was thinking maybe they could come to the condo on Halloween. We could have dinner, take Ry trick-or-treating. Whatdya think?”

  He was making plans all the way into October? Me and him plans? “Uh . . .”

  “Got any sexy costumes? I’d love to see that, but maybe after my parents leave and Ry goes to bed.”

  He totally was.

  “What?” he asked when I cast my eyes downward, unable to formulate a reply.

  “Is that a good idea? Is it too soon?”

  His brows curled down in confusion. “I’ve met your family, why wouldn’t it be a good idea to meet mine? We’re dating, right?”

  “Yes. No. I mean . . . I don’t know.” I heaved a sigh, hating the hurt in his eyes. I spoke carefully, trying that again. “Yes, you met my family, and yes we’re dating, but I didn’t think . . . meeting your family feels serious. We’re not serious.” That last part sounded more like a question.

  Without a word, he flagged down our waiter and paid the bill, heaving me out of my seat after scribbling his name on the receipt. I couldn’t speak, but he wasn’t listening anyway, as he drug me
out the front door and into the parking lot. He kept moving until we were near the side of the building, a couple of feet from the Chevy.

  I opened my mouth to ask what the hell when he shoved me against the warm brick exterior, his fingers in my hair. His breath coated my lips as the humid, salty air from the ocean cloaked us. The way he was studying me made me feel like the half-eaten chocolate cake left on our table. Decadent. Edible. Desired.

  “Trace.” His name was a whisper, lost to the breeze.

  His mouth descended on mine, his kiss possessive with a touch of danger lurking behind the heady sweep of his tongue. His hot, firm body pressed me further into the wall. There was no escape, but I wanted nothing more than to be consumed by him.

  He drew back, his forehead pressed to mine, his eyes hooded as he stared at my lips. “Care to rethink that ‘not serious’ thing? Because I’m feeling pretty fucking serious right about now. I think I have since I first tasted you.”

  He was slaying me.

  “You know what I meant,” I whispered.

  “No.” He took a step back, his hands still cradling my head. “I don’t.”

  For some stupid reason, tears filled my eyes, blurring the beautiful image of him before me. “Trace,” I said, echoing my earlier plea.

  “What? Please tell me what’s going on here. Do we need to cool things off while you help Ry? Is that it?”

  As simple as that sounded, that wasn’t going to fix what was plaguing my heart. “That’s not the issue.”

  His hands dropped and he crossed his arms across his chest. “I didn’t know there was an issue. I thought we were having fun.”

  “We were. We are,” I corrected, but not before a frown creased his face.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I was falling for him. That I was petrified he would break my heart and I’d lose both him and Ryder and that would devastate me. That I’d never let myself feel this way for anyone before and I was feeling entirely too vulnerable.