Page 25 of Slide

“Tag along?”

“It’ll be fun.”

“Fun?”

“Why do you keep repeating everything I say?”

His brain was about to explode, just blow the hell up, gray matter everywhere. “Because nothing you’ve said so far makes any kind of sense.”

She leaned against the car, slid her hands into the pockets of her teeny tiny shorts, and, squinting against the rising sun, stared up at him. “What aren’t you getting?”

“Any of it,” he ground out.

She lifted her arms in the air. “‘Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, healthy, free, the world before me, the long brown path before me leading wherever I choose’…”

Christ. “What?”

She grinned and dropped her arms. “It’s a poem by Walt Whitman.”

What in the hell was going on?

But suddenly nothing would come out of his mouth. All he could do was stare at the way the sun cast her in a yellow-orange glow, making her already tanned skin damn near shimmer. She looked like a sun goddess. Hair dark and wild, glossy. Eyes bright, flecks of gold that he’d never known were there breaking through the green. He knew if he was pressed against her, her skin would be warm, and that spot between her neck and shoulder more so. God, the skin there would feel soft against his lips. She’d smell amazing there, too. He knew it instinctively. Lucy had the most drugging scent of any woman he’d ever met, and that sexy little spot would be the source of it.

She tilted her head to the side, exposing more of her slender neck, and her lips lifted in a little smirk as she ran her hand over the very spot he’d been fantasizing about.

“Do I have grease on me or something?”

Lucy needed to go home. Now. “I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, but you’re not coming with me.”

She crossed her arms and her pert little tits lifted higher. “Why not?” Pushing away from the car, she stepped closer. “We’re friends, aren’t we? What’s the big deal?”

“I want to be on my own.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound much fun.”

Then she was standing in front of him, close, too damn close.

“I promise I won’t get in your way.” Her smile was back. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

This was the Lucy he was used to: confident, sassy, a pain in his ass. She was nothing like the Lucy he’d glimpsed over the last week. He studied her expression, but she gave away nothing. “What’s going on? Why the sudden need to get away from LA?”

She shrugged. “My brothers are being giant pains in the ass. You know what Hugh can be like.” She turned away, lifted her arms in a stretch then bent forward touching her toes. “Plus, you’re going through Denver,” she mumbled. “I have a friend there I could maybe catch up with.”

He tore his eyes off her heart-shaped ass and fought back another growl. “I’m not your personal taxi service, and like I said, I don’t want company on this trip.” He crossed his arms. “I’m taking you back.”

It would throw him off schedule, but better that than being confined to a vehicle with his biggest temptation.

She opened her mouth, he guessed to argue, but he talked right over her. “You’re not coming, Lucy.” Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called John.

His cousin answered on the second ring. “’Sup?”

“I’m gonna be a day late.”

John cursed several times. Loudly. “I need the car here in three days. Fuck.” He was quiet several seconds. “Adam, man. The shop depends on it.”

“What do you mean the shop depends on it?” John owned a panel shop, which was why he could afford to own a car like the one Lucy was currently leaning against, watching him intently. He turned away, ignoring the tightening in his gut. The car had been wrecked and needed extensive bodywork. His cousin was one of the best around, and did goddamn amazing work.

“The divorce was a big hit. I had to buy Jocelyn out of the business or sell up. You know this place is my life. I’m mortgaged up to the fucking eyeballs. I need a few more big jobs to give me some breathing room. The Superbird’s my showpiece. I know it’s a big ask, but I need it here in time for the car expo.”