Page 80 of Cinder
Penny
Evan slows as we turn into the station parking lot with one hand steady on the wheel. He’s not on duty, and he’s wearing a backwards cap, which should not be a problem.
But it is.
It’s a very big fucking problem.
Especially when he starts reversing into a space near the side of the building. And especially when he throws his arm over the back of my seat, twisting in his with easy control.
His forearm brushes the top of my headrest as he looks over his shoulder, and I can smell his cologne as I tilt my head, watching the way his hand guides the wheel with ease.
Elle chatters from the back, completely unaware that I am suddenly hyper-aware of the way her dad’s T-shirt stretches across his shoulders. He straightens the wheel, kills the engine, and glances at me.
“You good?”
Absolutely fucking not.
“Mm. Yep. Yes.”
Last night hums somewhere under my skin. The way he breathed my name and the way his palm felt cupping my chin.
Get it together, Penelope.
We step out of the truck into the afternoon and the noise of the bay. Two firefighters in navy station tees and jackets move past us toward the office, mid-conversation about a call earlier that morning. One of them gives Evan a chin lift in greeting before disappearing down the corridor.
The air hits first—grill smoke, charcoal, something sweet and sharp that’s probably barbecue sauce, layered over the familiar scent of diesel and metal. The bay doors are open enough for ventilation, and some folding tables have been dragged into the dining hall next to it.
“Don’t you drown that in sauce!” Mason bellows from somewhere near the grill.
Frankie’s laugh cuts through everything. “Says the guy who burnt the first batch and used the sauce to cover up the evidence.”
“I was experimenting!”
Elle wriggles free of my hand, her penguin stuffie dangling from her hand.
“You sure you wanna bring Pengie inside?” I ask
“Yes! He’s good luck.”
Evan chuckles lightly. “Don’t forget we’ve got Lucky Penny too, bug.”
My eyes snap to his.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing.” I clear my throat. “Just didn’t think you remembered that story.”
His eyes move from mine toward the bay as we approach the doors, and he shakes his head slightly. “Course I remember.”
I nod, because at this point, that’s all I’m able to do. He steps closer than necessary as we walk toward the tables, his shoulder brushing mine lightly.
It’s subtle. It isn’t. Fuck.
The noise swells as we fully enter the chaos, with Elle careening toward Remi and Max. Colt, holding Zela, spots us first.
“There they are,” he calls, grinning. “About time.”
Remi looks up from greeting Elle, with Max clinging to one of her legs. “Hey, you all made it!”
