Page 384 of Summer Heat
>> Plus, it’s not ‘easy access,’ but rather…
She tapped the second half of the text out, but purposely didn’t put it through. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Connor practically glaring at his phone.
He broke first.
>> Rather, what?
She clicked send.
>> All access.
“Jesus Christ.”
It was a hiss more than anything else and oh, so delicious. Now to go in for the kill…
“I’m wearing them now.” She said it aloud instead of texting it. And saw instant, white-hot desire flare up in his eyes.
An answering rush of heat charged through her.
“Abby, we don’t have to do this.” The corners of his mouth softened into a look of genuine affection as he studied her from across the table. “I was wrong. We can most definitely be friends. I’ve really enjoyed this past week with you. More than I’d ever imagined possible.”
“But—”
“No, just listen. You’re special to me, Abby. I hated hearing you say you were going to be just like my other one-month women.” He held her gaze. “You’ll never be ‘just’ anything. Let alone that.”
Emotions swelled up out of her chest. Every day in every way Connor just kept getting more irresistible. “You promised me the one month, Connor. I want it.”
The look in his eyes switched from desire to determination as he walked over to her and held out his hand. “Come outside with me for a bit.”
Abby looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “What? Now?”
“Please. I want to show you something.”
Curiosity overruling her stubbornness, Abby took his outstretched hand and followed him out to the garage. But when he led her over to the second garage door, not the one where he parked his Lexus, she hesitated. “You’re not going to show me some sex dungeon or something in there are you?”
He chuckled. “No. Nothing like that.”
Feeling a buzz of excitement unfurl in her stomach over the unfamiliar, almost childlike joy she saw in his eyes, she turned quickly to see what was behind the mystery door, the slow hum of the rising garage door motor resounding like a drumroll.
“You’re kidding me.”
Beaming proudly, he circled the gunpowder black car, trailing his hand along the hood. “It’s a 1971 Dodge Charger.”
Looking at its iconic design, she asked the first thing that popped in her mind. “Like the Dukes of Hazzard car?”
Another chuckle. “Similar. That was a ’69. This one was the first of the third generation Chargers. A class of its own.” He took another lap around the car before patting the top of it as if to say, ‘good boy.’
She realized she was still gaping a bit but seeing Connor petting and talking so affectionately about this gritty muscle car was making her brain do cartwheels.
“Do you like it?”
The question came out casually, but she could hear the current of emotion filtering around it. This was important to him. A test of sorts. Realizing this, she took a step back and gave his car an honest look.
Along with a classic, streamlined shape, the car had one of those rugged vented hoods—not quite Fast and the Furious but close. It had character. Quietly powerful. Nostalgically masculine. And sexy as hell with Connor leaning against it.
Taking a deep breath, she ventured, “Actually, I do like it. I mean I don’t know a lot about cars but I do have memories of my dad and uncle working on this sixties convertible on the weekends when I was a kid. Clearly, they were really bad at it because it was still barely running when they ‘finished’ a few years later. But I remember playing inside it a lot while they were tinkering with the engine.”
She smiled and peeked at the interior. “This car reminds me of that one. And though I can’t explain why, it sort of reminds me of you, too.”
