Well, shit. I had keys to a new Mustang burning a hole in my pocket and nowhere to go. My phone vibrated in my hand, and I looked down.
Cassie: Are you back?
Cassie: Come over.
Cassie: I miss you.
Cassie: I’m bored.
Cassie: But that’s not why I want you to come over.
Cassie had blown up my phone with five text messages in a row, and I laughed as I typed out my response.
Dean: On my way.
I ran back into the living room and hugged Gramps.
“Do you see that?” I pointed out the living room window toward my car—my car—on the street.
Gramps squinted. “I see it.”
“It’s mine. Jack bought me a damn car!”
Gramps pushed out of his recliner and wa
lked closer to the window. He took a good look outside and turned to me with wide eyes. “Jack bought you that?” When I nodded, he turned and called out, “Ma! Get out here and see what Jack did!”
She came around the corner, her expression a mixture of concern and confusion. “What he did? What could he have done? Jack’s not even here.”
“That!” Gramps pointed at my Mustang.
“What about it? It looks like a bullet.”
“It’s mine,” I said with a smile.
Gran’s eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline. “Yours? He bought you a car?”
“Apparently. And yours is on the way.” I laughed, knowing that Gran didn’t like big surprises. If I warned her now, it would at least give her a little time to adjust to the idea. “And don’t try to talk him out of it. He’s stubborn and pig-headed. He won’t take it back.”
“Well, I—” Gran stopped and shook her head, clearly at a loss for words.
“It’s really nice, isn’t it?” I draped my arm around her shoulders as I towered over her.
She peered out the window again. “It’s more than just nice. You be safe driving that, you hear me?”
I nodded. “Cassie just texted me, so I’m going to head over there. You guys okay if I leave?”
“Of course. Go. Have fun.” Gran swatted at my back. “Tell Cassie hello from me, please.”
“Tell the kitten I miss her,” Gramps called after me with a hearty laugh.
“I’m telling Jack you’re in love with his woman!” I shouted as I ran out the front door.
Before I left, I walked around my car, inspecting it from every angle. It was gorgeous.
Jack was right; I’d loved Mustangs ever since I was a teenager, admiring their sleek lines and body style. The gunmetal color looked badass against the darkness of the tinted windows, and I shook my head, my mind still blown as I clicked the unlock button on the key fob.
When I opened the driver’s side door, I was immediately struck with the new-car smell and the supple jet-black leather. The dashboard was black as well, with striking silver accents. It was exactly my style, and had Jack not picked it out for me, this was exactly what I would have chosen for myself. Once I could afford it, of course.