“Because everyone knows everything about everyone here,” she answered, seemingly unaware of the temper surging within me. “It’s like one big incestuous family. Everyone’s just one degree removed.” She looked up at me with a shy smile. “That’s why it’s so nice to talk to you.”
“Nice?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not nice.”
She looked down, a flash of hurt across her gorgeous features. But then she looked up again, tentative, hopeful. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”
I nodded. “I’ll pick you up at eight.” The smile she gave me would have melted a frozen tundra. I was not going to make it another minute without doing something I would deeply regret. But maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe it would be worth it just to feel her in my arms again.
“Have a good night.” I nodded at her, dismissive. I brushed past her as I walked away, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to leave while I still could.
* * *
§
* * *
Eight a.m. on Sunday Gigi flounced out of her house in a light pink dress and ballet flats. What did she think I was taking her to, a garden party? I wanted to roll my eyes, but that wasn’t the reaction my body was having. The way the fabric clung to her curves, the way it rode up her thighs, had me swallowing and looking away and wishing like hell I’d told her she should wear sweatpants. But knowing Gigi, she’d find some way to make them sexy as hell, maybe riding down low on her hips exposing a patch of skin I could bite.
“Good morning!” She looked as chirpy and sunny as a Sunday school teacher.
“Hey.” I just had to get this over with and then I’d put some much-needed distance between us. I drove over to a local school, the parking lot empty as expected. We switched places—no touching involved—and she got in the driver’s seat where I introduced her to the gears and pedals. She nodded and didn’t have too many questions since I guessed she’d been in plenty of cars.
“OK, give her some gas.” I buckled myself, just in case.
“I’m nervous.” She smiled over at me looking cute as hell. “What if I mess up?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s my buddy’s car anyway.”
“So I can put a few dents in it?”
“Sure, he works in a body shop.” I kept talking to keep her relaxed, telling her about the shop, how I worked there sometimes, too. She eased into it, jolting us good a few times, but managing to drive in a few large, looping ovals around the park.
“Here’s where you need to do a little less.” I reached over and wrapped my hands around hers on the wheel to show her how little she really needed to do to make a turn. No lurching movements, nothing sharp or jarring, just easy and slow. Like the way my bicep was rubbing lightly against her breasts. Easy and slow, just like that.
I brought my hands back, folding them in my lap like I’d been naughty. Or at least wanted to be. I snuck a glance over and fuck if her nipples weren’t hard, pressing against that pretty pink dress, making me think all kinds of dark thoughts. How satisfying it would be to tear that party dress right off of her, rip it down the middle so I could get at those breasts like a ravenous beast.
“Should I try to park?” she asked. Right, she still thought she was getting a driving lesson.
“Go for it.” I pointed to a spot among 30 empty ones waiting for her in a row. She pulled in and parked, no problem.
“I’m a pro!” She looked at me, smiling and effulgent. I couldn’t help but smile back. It was contagious. “You’re smiling.” She elbowed me, teasing.
“Yeah, you made me do it,” I grumbled. I knew what she was getting at. I didn’t exactly walk around greeting the world like a game show host.
“OK, I’m ready!” She started pulling out.
“For what?”
“Want to go get a coffee? I’ll drive us downtown.”
“Guess so.” Early Sunday morning, there shouldn’t be too many others on the road. I’d just have to pray she didn’t hit a mailbox and draw the cops. That was all I needed, some overzealous rookie looking me up in his database and causing me headaches. My record was clean, had been for years now, but if you dug back enough you could find some good stuff from my juvenile years.
After a few near-misses and only a couple of times I had to reach over and put my hand on the wheel—#copafeel—we made it to a coffee shop in one piece.
“I did it!” She raised her hands in victory, then turned and threw her arms around my neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like I was the type of guy who gave “good for you” friend hugs. Her soft breasts against my chest, her face against mine, my body tensed. I didn’t move a muscle. She drew back, flushed and slightly embarrassed.
“I mean, thanks for the driving lesson,” she murmured.
“Come on. I’ll get you a coffee and drive you home.” I climbed out, wondering what the hell was up with me. I was sure she was, too. I knew I was running hot and cold with her, but that had to stop. Cold had to win out because this wasn’t going anywhere.
I bought her a latte, realizing how stupid it was that I liked paying and presenting her with it. Caveman buy you coffee. She found us two seats in the backyard patio, surrounded by ivy climbing stone walls and not many other people. I hadn’t planned on a get-to-know-you sit down. But, I sat down. It would be the first and the last time we hung out, so I figured what was the harm?
I couldn’t even tell you where the next two hours went. I’d lost a couple of hours with a woman before, but never with all of our clothes on. Gigi started in talking, and it was like I didn’t know what hit me. Her light laugh, the way she had of leaning in when she talked, as if she were telling me something no one else knew. She was effervescent, like sitting across from my own personal champagne bubble.
“I’m not even sure if Heath has running water!” she c
onfessed, eyes wide and amused, telling me about how one of her older brothers had taken off to Vermont and built his own cabin. Apparently she had three older brothers. None of whom had taught her how to drive.
“You’d think he could haul his mountain-man ass down here and teach his sister to drive one weekend.”
“Oh no.” She shook her head, not a trace of bitterness in her reply. “He’d have to head back onto the grid if he did that. And see our father.”
It turned out everyone hated their father—except her and her oldest brother. I guessed that was because her oldest brother was a lot like their father, and Gigi probably didn’t hate anyone. But from what I’d seen of powerful men, none of them got that way by being a good guy. Maybe her father was the exception to the rule, the one who amassed all his riches on the up and up. But I doubted it.
“I’ll have to introduce you one of these days,” she said, looking so happy I didn’t even point out how ridiculous the statement was. No need to argue over something that would never happen. “I don’t know where Dad’s been lately,” she mused. “He’s been here in the Hamptons, but never by the house or the club. Anyway.” She shook herself from her thoughts. “I want to know more about how you learned to drive a car at 13.”
She looked so intrigued, so delicious with a tantalizing tease of cleavage at the neckline of that demure dress, I found myself talking. Plus, maybe if she learned more about me she’d do the walking away all by herself. That would make staying away from her a whole lot easier.
“I could pick any lock by the time I was 10,” I began. “By 12, I could hotwire a car. By 13, I could drive the getaway car.” I left out how I lost my virginity right around then, too, the virginity she still had though I promised myself I wouldn’t think about that and get hard right at the coffee shop. And I left out other details, too, like what, exactly, I drove the getaway car from. Gigi got the flyby version. She’d seen Sons of Anarchy. It was enough.