Page 385 of Summer Heat
She must’ve answered right, because he rewarded her with a slow smile so luminous, she froze and simply watched it play across his face. Afraid any sudden movements would scare it away.
“I wasn’t nearly as ambitious as your dad and uncle. I had this professionally restored.”
The way his voice changed, warmed when he talked about the car, made an emotional lump grow in her throat. She’d never heard him speak this way about anyone or anything until now. This was a glimpse at a side of Connor she knew very few—if any—got to see.
“Tell me about your car, Connor.” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.
“It’s a pretty recent purchase. I got it a few months ago when I made equity partner.”
“Interesting midlife car choice,” she teased gently.
He barked out a laugh. “See, this is why you could never be ‘just’ one my other women. Not one of them would ever call me old. At least not until after I’d ended things with them.”
“Just imagine what things I’ll say when things are over between us,” she joshed lightly. She’d meant it as a joke but immediately regretted it when some of the light left Connor’s eyes. “Hey, I was kidding.”
Instead of responding, he asked simply, “You want to go for a ride?”
Desperately wanting to repair things, she tried again for humor, “Can I drive?”
Thankfully, his smile returned. “On the way back, I promise.”
Before he could head over to the driver’s side, however, she caught his arm. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
“Don’t be.” He looked into her eyes and said softly, “It wasn’t what you said; it was the reminder that our days are numbered. I get sad thinking about it is all.”
That right there was the exact moment Abby knew…she wasn’t in danger of just getting her heart broken by Connor; she was in danger of losing it to him completely.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A COMFORTABLY SILENT half hour later, they were headed north with the windows down and the engine rumbling loud and low.
All the while, Abby couldn’t stop staring at Connor; he’d never looked so free, so happy.
So content.
By the time he pulled over on a deserted gravel road near Cactus Creek, he was a different man. Just a man. No longer a big time corporate attorney.
“No one even knows I have this car.”
“Really? Why not? This is kind of a chick magnet.”
Even his laughter sounded different. More alive. “Not to any of the women I usually date.”
“Maybe if you showed them the interior…” she suggested, running an appreciative hand along the wide, buttery soft seat that was specifically designed to look, but not be vintage, and also allow her to slide all the way over to Connor if she so desired.
“A woman after my own heart. The bench seats were a custom install.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “Unlike the original ones, however, these do this—”
He reached on his side of the seat and she let out a yelp as the entire front bench seat reclined down flat, lining up with the back seat and in effect, turning the car into a giant bed on wheels.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and rolled over to him, laughing. “This is so awesomely cheesy. You’ve real
ly never brought a woman riding in this?”
“Nope. I usually just drive it out here and take a short nap in whatever shade I can find. Some weeks, it’s the most restful sleep I get.”
“Because you’re free.” It was a statement, not a question.
He looked up at her, startled. “Is it that obvious?”
