Leaving Amarillo(46)
I had a feeling that this time I wouldn’t remember being left behind quite as fondly.
Chapter 16
JUST AS I’M CONTEMPLATING HITCHHIKING BACK TO THE HOTEL for lack of a better option, a cherry red ’67 Camaro SS with black racing stripes rumbles into the alley where I’m standing. My time dating Jaggerd taught me to recognize a muscle car when I saw one. I step backward as it rolls to a stop beside me. The driver leans over and swings the door open in invitation. Just as I’m about to politely decline this very intriguing yet unexpected offer, I catch a glimpse of a very familiar arm.
The rope is what I see first. It’s detailed and intricate and I know for a fact that it morphs into a serpent farther up his bicep. I’ve fantasized about tracing it with everything from my fingers to my tongue enough times that I could draw it blindfolded in the dark. The sheet music across his knuckles ripples as his hand returns to his side of the vehicle.
“Nice wheels,” I say, sliding onto the black leather bench seat beside him.
“Nice dress,” he says back even though I have yet to see him actually look at me.
Crave is barely out of the rearview before the silence and the tension get to be too much for me. “So . . . you boost this hot rod or what?”
The tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth is the only response I get for several seconds. “Something like that,” he finally says.
“I see. We planning to rob a bank later, too? I’ve only got one change of clothes, but we could grab some disguises at the Quickie Mart unless we’re going to knock it over, too.”
“You brought a change of clothes?”
I laugh and relax back into the seat, enjoying the powerful vibration beneath me. “That would be the part you paid attention to.” I turn my neck so that I’m facing his profile as he shifts gears and merges onto the interstate. My eyes travel the most indulgent route up his ink-sleeved arms and across his chest before they trace the outline of his profile.
“You were late,” he says softly, finally turning his turbulent gaze to mine.
“So were you.”
“That was my second time around the block.” He returns to facing forward and I’m grateful.
Maybe it’s because he waited for me, or because we’re alone in a darkened muscle car that is practically seducing me with its motor, but I am two seconds from telling him to pull over and please, pretty please touch me before I implode.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t want to be rude and just bail without an explanation.”
I watch his fingers flex on the shiny black steering wheel. “You really don’t have to do this, you know. Seriously. I can handle it. Bikers and all.”
I smile and scoot a little closer to him. Even over the powerful scent of leather and what I’m pretty sure is Armor All, I can smell his cologne, the kind I bought him and I’m in danger of sniffing until either it gets embarrassingly obvious or I pass out.
“I know. I told you, I wanted to come. And I’m here now and we’re on our way so you can give the disclaimer a rest already.” I sigh and resist the urge to lean my head over on his shoulder. “Besides, if I’d have known you were driving this, you wouldn’t have been able to talk me out of it anyway. I have to admit, I am insanely curious about this car and how you got it.”
He slides his hands lower on the wheel. “Borrowed it from a friend who owed me a favor.”
“I didn’t realize you had friends in Austin.”
“She’s not from Austin, just happened to be in town for MusicFest.”
“Ah. Convenient.” She. My stomach clenches and I scoot back to my side of the seat and stare out the window.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have an excellent poker face?”
“No,” I answer shortly without tearing my gaze from the window.
Gavin lets out a low, seductive ripple of laughter. “And they probably never will.”
“You’re hilarious.”
I peek over just in time to catch a glimpse of the dimple in his right cheek. “Her name is Janie Ledford and trust me, she’d be much more interested in you than me. Especially right now.”
“Why right now?” I shift my body so that’s it’s turned completely in his direction.
His eyes dart over to me then back to the road. He clears his throat and I am suddenly very aware of how small the space we currently occupy is.
“I wasn’t being a smartass about that dress. It’s nice . . . Does things for you.”
“I see.” I slip my shoes off, letting them fall gently in the floorboard, and tuck my legs beneath me. “What kinds of things?”
His tongue snakes out and slides enticingly along his lush lower lip. It’s all I can do not to steal a taste of that lower lip myself.
“Things that are going to make this a very long drive.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and I can’t help but smile—he’s right, I have no poker face whatsoever.
“Good to know.” Mentally I’m cataloging everything I own. Gavin likes dresses. I wonder if I can pull off wearing one every day for the rest of my life.
A low rumble that I’m pretty sure isn’t the car interrupts my silent plotting.
“Gav? You hungry?”