Driven

by K. Bromberg

  “I’ll tell you what, Zander, if Rylee here agrees to the date with me that she’s trying to get out of,” Colton says never breaking eye contact with him, “then I’ll take you as my personal guest to the track the next time we test. How’s that?”

  A ghost of a smile returns to Zander’s lips, his eyes lighting up for the first time, as he nods his head yes.

  I hold my hand over my heart to press on the ache there as joy races through me. Finally! And all because Colton followed me in the house. All because he didn’t listen to me. All because he’s using one of my kids to blackmail me into going out with him. I could kiss him right now! Well, I guess I’ve already done that, but I could do it again. At this point, I’ll do anything Colton asks me to do just to see the smile on Zander’s face again.

  Colton squeezes Zander’s hand again and shakes it. “It’s a deal then, buddy.” He releases his hand and leans in closer, “I promise,” he whispers.

  Zander’s lips curve into a smile. Small dimples form in his cheeks. Dimples I didn’t even know he had because I’ve never seen him smile. He slowly withdraws his hand from Colton’s, but continues to look at him expectantly, as if to ask when this will take place. Colton glances over at me for help, and I step up.

  “Zander, sweetie?” He moves his eyes from Colton’s and looks over to me. “Colton and I are going to go over and sit in the kitchen and plan a time, would you like to join us or would you like to go finish watching the basketball game with the boys?” I ask softly, my voice petting him gently as I would a scared animal.

  Zander’s eyes glance rapidly back and forth over the both of us before Colton interrupts, “Hey, buddy, I’m gonna stay right here in the kitchen for a couple of minutes with Rylee. Can you go watch the game for me to let me know what I’ve missed when we’re done?”

  Zander nods slightly, locking eyes with Colton once again gauging if he’s sincere or not. He must believe him because he clenches his stuffed doggy tighter and heads back to the couch. Shane’s eyes catch mine, his face blanketed with disbelief before he picks up the remote and turns the sound back up.

  I rise from the floor, noticing that all of the boys except Zander have their attention still focused on Colton for it’s not every day that a celebrity is in our house. Colton notices the pairs of eyes on him and gives them a heartfelt smile. “Don’t worry,” he says to them shaking his head in understanding of their awestruck looks, “you can all come too when I take Zander to the track.”

  A large cacophony of whoops ring out as excitement electrifies the boys. “Okay, okay,” I placate. “You guys got what you wanted, please turn around and pay attention to the game so that Colton and I can discuss some matters.”

  They obey for the most part with several furtive glances our way as we move to the barstools in the kitchen. I offer Colton a seat, and I walk around the island so that I can face him. I notice Shane still observing us though, a protective look on his face, wondering why Colton has upset me.

  For the myriad of emotions that Colton has made me feel in the week’s time I’ve known him, the gratitude I have for him at this moment trumps them all.

  I look up at him and meet his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tears from filling mine.

  “Thank you.” I whisper. It’s only two words, but the look on his face tells me that he understands how much is behind them.

  He nods, “It’s the least I can do,” his voice gruff when he responds. “We all have our stories.” He offers as his way of understanding the magnitude of what has happened before looking down at his folded hands, more to himself than to me.

  “You got that right,” I say still overwhelmed by the situation. I look over to Zander and smile. He did it. He really did it today. He took a step out from under the fog. And suddenly I feel elated with hope. I feel impulsive from the possibilities.

  “Colton!” I jolt him out of his thoughts. He whips his head up, startled at my urgency in calling his name. I know I will regret this later, but I decide to go with my instinct. I decide to be impulsive and act in the moment. “I’m off in ten minutes,” I say and he looks at me as if he is not following my train of thought, so I continue, “I owe you a date, so let’s go on a date.”

  He shakes his head as if trying to make sure I said the words he heard. “Oh— okay,” he stumbles, and I love the fact that I’ve taken him by surprise. He starts to rise, the corners of his lips curving. “I don’t have any reservations or—”

  “Who cares?” I motion with my hands, “I’m not high maintenance. Simplicity is rewarding. I’m good with a burger or anything really.” I watch his eyes widen in disbelief. “Besides, you paid enough for the date, who needs to drop a bunch of money on food that we eat anyway?”

  He stares at me for a beat, and I sense that he is trying to figure out if I’m being serious or not. When I just look at him like he’s being dense, he continues. “You are incredible. You know that right?” His simple words go straight to my heart for the incredulity in his voice tells me he is sincere.

  I flash a grin over my shoulder as I head for my quarters to grab my things and freshen up. “I’ll be right back.”

  I return in moments to find Mike staring awestruck, shaking Colton’s hand in the kitchen. Colton turns to me when he hears me, “You ready?” he asks.

  I hold up my finger indicating one second. “I’m outta here,” I announce to the boys as they rise from their various locations and come and give me hugs goodbye. I think the presence of Colton and my acquaintance with him has all of the sudden has elevated me to rock-star status with them by the way they are hugging me tightly.

  As I’m receiving my hugs, I notice Colton walk over to the couch and squat down on his haunches in front of Zander. He says something to him but I’m unsure what it is.

  CHAPTER 8

  As Colton and I stroll out of the house, an odd feeling of calm settles over me. I think this may be the best approach for a date with Colton. Unexpectedly, I’ve caught him off guard so that he can’t do any extensive planning. Extensive planning might equal overstated indulgences and premeditated seduction. Two things that I definitely do not need. It’s hard enough to resist him as it is.

  “We’ll take my car,” he says placing a hand on my back, the warmth of his hand there comforting, as he steers me toward a sleek, carbon-black convertible parked at the curb. The Aston Martin is beautiful and looks as if it is meticulously taken care of. It looks like it can really fly and for just an instant, I imagine getting behind the wheel, flooring the pedal, and leaving all my ghosts behind.

  “Nice ride,” I grant him, although I try not to show any interest. I’m sure he’s used to women fawning all over him and his car. Not me. Let the games begin, I think.

  “Thanks.” He opens the passenger door for me, and I slide onto the black leather, admiring the crafted interior and complete opulence. “I thought it was beautiful day to drive with the top down,” he says rounding the back of the car and sliding in next to me. “I just didn’t realize I was also going to be taking you out in it, too. An added bonus!” He admits, giving me a megawatt grin as he puts on his sunglasses.

  I can’t help but give him a smile back as his is infectious. “Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned pickup trucks?” I ask as he leans forward, opening the glove box in front of me, brushing his arm across my thigh and laughing loudly at my comment. His touch is electrifying, even when it is accidental. He pulls out a worn, molded baseball hat with “Firestone” emblazoned across the bridge and puts it on his head, his dark hair curling out from under it at the nape of his neck. He pulls the brim down low enough to touch his sunglasses.

  I guess this is his “incognito” look, but all I can think is he looks sexy as hell. All smoldering, edgy bad boy wrapped up in a drool-worthy body. I’m seriously fucked here if I actually think that my willpower will prevent me from giving in to any request from him. He reaches over and gives my thigh a quick squeeze before pressing a button on the dash in the
center console.

  “Don’t worry, I have a truck too,” he chuckles before the car roars to life, the vibration of the engine reverberating through my body and sending a thrill through me. “Hold on!” he says as he zooms out of the neighborhood, the excited look of a little boy on his face.

  Boys and their toys, I think as I watch him from behind my aviators. I shouldn’t be surprised at his skill maneuvering the car for this is how he makes his living, but I am. I shouldn’t be turned on by his complete competence either, as he weaves smoothly in and out of traffic, the car accelerating quickly, but I find myself wanting to reach out and touch him. Connect with him despite knowing that’s a dangerous line for me to cross for my own sake.

  The roar of the engine is loud enough and mixed with the whipping wind; talking is not a feasible option. I sit back, enjoying the feeling of freedom as the wind dances through my hair and the sun warms my skin. I lean my head back and give in to the urge to raise my hands over my head as we zip onto Interstate 10 heading west.

  I glance over to see him watching me, a curious look on his face. He subtly shakes his head, a diminutive smile on his lips before he looks back toward the road. After a beat, he pushes a button and music springs to life in the car, surrounding us with the fast tempo of a song.

  The song ends and another begins. I throw my head back, laughing out loud at the song. It’s a catchy little pop tune that I have heard on Shane’s radio enough times. In my periphery I notice Colton give me a quizzical look, so despite my average voice, I belt out the chorus, hoping he hears the words.

  “You make me feel so right, even if its so wrong, I wanna scream out loud, boy I just bite my tongue,” I raise my arms again over my head, letting myself go, reveling in feeling that I am telling Colton how I feel without telling him. This is so unlike me—singing out loud, letting loose—but something about being with him, sitting next to him in this flashy sports car, has lowered my inhibitions. As we exit the freeway, I finish the chorus with gusto, “It feels so good, but you’re so bad for me!” Colton hears the words and laughs good-naturedly at them.

  I continue singing the song, with less gusto since the car’s purring engine is quieter now that we are on Fourth Street. I can see Colton gauging the street’s parking availability and my curiosity is peaked because we’ve not discussed where we’re going. He swerves abruptly and parks the car with adept precision along the curb.

  I glance around trying to figure out where we are as he pushes a button in the sleek dashboard and the sexy purr of the engine ceases. “You okay to sit tight for a sec?” He asks, flashing me an earnest grin that affects me more than I care to admit.

  “Sure,” I answer, and I know at this moment I am saying yes to so much more than just sitting patiently in the car. I push the fear out of my mind and vow to embrace the idea of feeling again. Of wanting to feel again. I flick my eyes from his, down to his mouth, and back up, salacious thoughts running rampant through my mind. His smile widens further as he notices my prolonged attention.

  “I’ll be right back!” he announces before unfolding himself gracefully out of the car and standing deliberately to give me an incredible view of his ass in snug jeans. I bite my lip to suppress the various urges whipping through my body. He glances over his shoulder at me and laughs, knowing full well the impact of his actions. “Hey, Ryles?”

  “Yeah, Ace?”

  “I told you you wouldn’t be able to resist me.” He flashes me a disarming smile before hopping up on the curb and walking briskly down the block, long legs eating up the sidewalk, without a look back.

  I can’t help but grin as I watch him walk away. The man is captivating in every way and the epitome of sexy. From that boyish grin that disarms me in seconds to his sexy swagger that says he knows exactly where he’s going and what his intentions are. He exudes virility, evokes desire, and commands attention all with a single look from his stunning eyes. He’s edgy and reckless and you want to go along for the ride hoping to get a glimpse of his tender side that breaks through every now and again. The bad boy with a touch of vulnerability who leaves you breathless and steals your heart.

  I shake myself from my thoughts to admire the view of Colton’s broad shoulders and sexy swagger as he strides down the sidewalk. He tugs down on his baseball cap before he walks past two women. They both turn their heads as he passes by and admire him before turning back to each other and giggling, one mouthing the word, “Wow!” to the other.

  I know how they feel multiplied by a hundred. I watch as Colton stops and disappears into a doorway. From my vantage point in the car, I can’t see the sign above the entrance on the worn down façade.

  I pass the time admiring the sleek interior of the vehicle and watching the various people walking by at the car and staring at it. The ring of Colton’s cell phone sitting in the console startles me. I glance down to see the name ‘Tawny’ flashing across the screen. A pang of irritation flickers in me at a girl’s name on his phone before I rein in my unexpected jealousy. Of course he has women calling him, I tell myself.

  Probably all the time.

  “We’re all set,” Colton says startling me as he places a paper grocery bag behind me. He walks around the car and slides into his seat. As he buckles his seatbelt, he notices his phone’s missed-call message on the screen and thumbs to it. An enigmatic look crosses his face as he sees the caller’s name, and I chastise myself for hoping he would scowl when he saw it.

  A girl can hope anyway.

  Within moments we are back on the road and headed up Pacific Coast Highway. I’m admiring the sight of the surf crashing on the beach with the sun in the background slowly ebbing toward the horizon before I realize that we’re pulling into the view ourselves.

  Colton pulls up to a spot in the nearly empty parking lot. I’m surprised there are so few people here considering the weather is unusually warm for this time of year. “We’re here,” he says, pushing a button that has the top of the car lifting and closing in over us before he turns off the car. I look at him, surprise showing on my face; I was hoping for a non-romantic “date” and yet he has given me my favorite place on earth. A near-empty beach close to sunset. He simply is not playing fair, but then again, he doesn’t know me well enough to know my preferences so I just chalk it up to luck on his part.

  He grabs the bag behind my seat and then exits the car. He then collects a blanket from the trunk before coming around to my side. He opens the door with a playful flair as he reaches for my hand to help me out of the car.

  “Come,” he demands as he tugs on my hand, a thousand sensations seducing me as he pulls me toward the sand and surf. I am slightly giddy with the fact that he continues to hold my hand in his even though I’ve followed him. The rough calluses on his palms against my smooth skin are a welcome feeling. Almost like being pinched to make sure I’m not dreaming.

  We walk out onto the beach past a pile of towels and clothes that I assume belong to the two surfers out a ways in the water. We walk in silence, both taking in our surroundings as I try to figure out what to say. Why am I all of the sudden nervous over Colton’s intensity? Over his proximity?

  When we get about ten feet from the wet sand, Colton finally speaks. “How about right here?”

  “Sure, although I would’ve brought my swim suit if I’d known we were coming to the beach,” I respond flippantly, my nerves giving way to stupid humor as it usually does. If I could roll my eyes at myself right now, I would.

  Sensing my lack of bravado and heightened nerves now that we really are alone, just him and I, Colton quips, “Who said anything about suits? I’m all for skinny dipping.”

  I freeze at the comment, eyes wide, and swallow loudly. Odd that the idea of stripping down naked with this ruggedly handsome man unnerves me despite the fact he’s had his hands on me.

  His perfection next to my ordinary.

  Colton reaches out with his free hand and puts a finger under my chin, raising my head so that I can meet his gent
le eyes. “Relax, Rylee. I’m not going to eat you alive. You said you wanted casual, so I’m giving you casual. I thought we could take advantage of the unusually warm weather,” he says releasing my chin and handing me the brown bag so that he can lay a large Pendleton blanket on the sand. “Besides, when I get you naked, it’s going to be somewhere a lot more private so that I can enjoy every slow and maddening second of it. So I can take my time and show you exactly what that sexy body of yours was made for.” He glances up, eyes flashing desire and mouth turning up in a wicked grin.

  I sigh and shake my head, unsure of myself, of my reaction to him, and how I should proceed. The man can seduce me with words alone. That’s definitely not a good sign, seeing as how if he keeps it up I’ll be handing over my panties to him in no time at all.

  I fidget under the intensity of his stare and the direction my thoughts have taken. “Take a seat, Rylee. I promise, I don’t bite,” he smirks.

  “We’ll see about that,” I snort in jest, but I oblige him and sit down on the blanket, distracting myself from my nerves by unzipping my ankle boots. I pull off my socks, free my feet, and wiggle my toes, which are painted fire-engine red, in the sand. I pull my knees up, and wrap my arms around them, hugging them to my chest. “It’s beautiful out here. I’m so glad the cloud cover stayed away today.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he murmurs as he reaches into the brown bag from Fourth Street. “Are you hungry?” he asks producing two packages wrapped in white deli paper, followed by a loaf of French bread, a bottle of wine, and two paper cups. “Voila,” he announces. “A very sophisticated dinner of salami, provolone cheese, French bread, and some wine.” The corners of his mouth turn up slightly as if he is testing me. As if he is checking to see if I really am okay with a casual, no-frills dinner such as this in a land of Hollywood glitz, glamour, and pretension.

  I eye him warily, not liking games or being tested, but I guess someone in his shoes is probably wary of others. Then again, he’s the one begging me for a date, although I’m still not sure why. “Well, it’s not the Ritz,” I say dryly, rolling my eyes, “but it’ll have to do,” I huff out.