Interim(71)

Her mouth dropped open. She stared at the back of a naked brunette, long dark hair cascading all the way down to an inch above her plump, round ass. Her feet were snugly enclosed in boots strapped to a snowboard. She stood against a pure white background that accentuated her tanned nakedness.

“And what would I be wearing again?” she asked.

“Your birthday suit. Naturally.”

“I’m freezing just looking at her.”

He chuckled.

“You have these posters in your room?” she asked.

“I’m too old to hang posters in my room,” Jeremy replied, rolling up the brunette until she disappeared from sight. “But I’ve been collecting them for years. My favorite snowboard brand. Blind Boards.”

“Blind Boards?”

“Yep. They’re totally underrated, but I think they have potential to get bigger than Burton.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Regan said.

“Burton’s, like, the ultimate snowboard brand. I like their stuff, but Blind Boards takes it to a completely different level. They’re way more innovative.”

“And you like the way they advertise,” Regan pointed out.

“Hey, what can I say? Their girls are hot.”

Regan laughed. “Man, it’s gotta be the easiest thing in the world marketing to guys. Just include some tits and ass and you’ve got instant customers.”

Jeremy’s eyes bugged. Regan noticed.

“What?” she asked.

“I’ve never heard a girl say ‘tits.’ Ever.”

“Crude?”

“Coming from you?” He thought a moment then shook his head. “No. Doesn’t sound crude. But I do feel like you should have been holding a beer while you said it.”

Regan sighed. “Kinda wish I had one.”

“Thought you didn’t drink.”

“No, I qualified that statement. I don’t like drinking with those people.”

“Oh, I see.”

Regan watched as Jeremy headed to a fridge on the other side of the garage. He pulled out a beer and popped the top, then extended her the drink.

“I have to drive home,” she said, reaching automatically.

“I’ll drive you.”

“But you don’t have a car. Unless you got that thing running,” she said, glancing at the Camaro.

“Not yet. And I can drive your car.”

She didn’t consider that.

“But then you’d have to walk home,” she said.

“Not a big deal.”

Regan scratched her head. “You sure?”

He nodded. “Drink up.”

“So, you’re not having one?”

“No. This is your night. Drink all you like. I’ll watch after you.”

She smiled brightly. “Really?”

“Sure.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No ulterior motive?”

“Don’t even know what that is,” he said.

She snorted and mumbled, “Yeah, I bet you don’t.”

He watched the bottle reach her lips, tilt with the tiniest upward thrust of her hand. Her throat muscles contracted, and he imagined the liquid sliding down deep inside her, slinking around her belly to warm it instantly. She licked her lips and exhaled an exaggerated sigh.

“Thank. You.”

“You’re welcome.”

A comfortable silence filled the garage as Jeremy resumed work on the axle—a project that was nearly complete. The Camaro might run by January if he were lucky.

“Why that name?” Regan asked.

“Huh?”

“Blind Boards? What the hell’s a blind board?”

“Oh. Well, I read somewhere that it’s about the difference between snowboarding and other sports.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, sports are usually colorful and flashy, you know? Think about what you see when you watch a soccer match or football game. Especially if you’re right there in the stadium. How much do you think you’d miss out on if you couldn’t see color?”

Regan paused. “A lot, I suppose.”

“Exactly. But snowboarding is just you and your board and one huge, white mountain. The thrill is in the ride, not what you see.”

Regan nodded, absorbing. “That makes sense.”