damned if he didn’t bound to his feet and
follow her out into the parking lot like a tame puppy. He could practically
hear Jack laughing.
Gia didn’t hesitate. She walked
over straight to her truck and opened the passenger-side door for him. “Get
in.”
She’d clearly been back to Ma’s to
collect her truck. He wasn’t surprised she’d left it there—Gia didn’t do
stupid or irresponsible, and driving after drinking tequila would have
qualified on both counts—but he’d bet she wasn’t happy he’d seen her like
that. Gia didn’t let her guard down often.
He didn’t budge. “Field trip?”
She shot him a look. “We’ll get it
out of our systems.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. He
definitely needed “it” defined before he put his foot in his mouth.
“Well?” She looked at him
impatiently and jingled her keys. “Are you in or out?”
The way her gaze traveled down his
body and settled on his dick, she wasn’t talking about her passenger-side seat.
Not really.
“We need to talk,” he said weakly.
Christ. Who was the girl here?
She smiled. Slowly. Like she was
humoring him and didn’t care that he knew it. “Okay. Get in. We can talk while
I drive.”
He probably should have asked where
they were going—for all he knew, she planned on driving down to Death
Valley and dumping his ass out on the sand to roast—but he was pretty
much ready to go wherever she wanted. Because, holy Christ, Gia taking charge
was unexpectedly sexy. All that direct bluntness aimed his way and he had an
erection that wasn’t going to quit anytime soon.
Which she knew.
Because she’d checked him out.
He got in the cab while she walked
around and climbed in the driver’s side door. Gia’s truck was a mess, the seats
half-hidden beneath a pile of flannel and an extra pair of steel toes. The
woman also had enough tools to stock a small Home Depot. He shifted the junk so
he could buckle up and got comfortable in the seat.
After tossing her bag on the
backseat—which only added to the organizational carnage when half the
contents spilled out—she hopped in, flipped the key in the ignition and
peeled them out of the parking lot. When she turned on the radio, however, she
surprised him again. She apparently liked the same country crap his brother
liked. Which explained her enthusiasm for last night’s line dancing. She drove
as enthusiastically as she danced too. He’d jumped out of a dozen helicopter
bays with her and watched her wield a chainsaw with cool expertise but he
hadn’t, as far as he could remember, driven with her before.
And Gia drove fast.
Straight up the highway, like a
shot from a gun speeding toward some unseen target.
Hell .
He white-knuckled the grab bar above
the door. It was just possible she’d mistaken the highway for the Indy 500.
“Are we in a rush?”
Because he had plans for tomorrow
that dying would put a kink in.
“You can drive next time.” She
flicked him a small smile and he had no idea what she meant. But he definitely
liked the idea of her on the back of his Harley. Taking her riding had all
sorts of possibilities.
All too soon, she pulled off and
killed the motor. She didn’t rush into speech, though. No, she sat there,
running a finger over the steering wheel, listening to the ping of the engine
cooling down.
“So,” she said eventually.
“Yeah.” He didn’t know whether she’d
brought him out here to have her wicked way with him, or if she was finally in
the mood for conversation.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and
turned toward him. The foot and a half of black vinyl between them was nowhere
near enough space. Not if she wanted him to keep his hands to himself.
She took a deep breath.
“You need to stop staring at me.”
He wasn’t sure what the right
answer was. Hell. Apparently everyone but him knew he had the hots for her.
Well, he knew too, but what he hadn’t known was that it was written all
follow her out into the parking lot like a tame puppy. He could practically
hear Jack laughing.
Gia didn’t hesitate. She walked
over straight to her truck and opened the passenger-side door for him. “Get
in.”
She’d clearly been back to Ma’s to
collect her truck. He wasn’t surprised she’d left it there—Gia didn’t do
stupid or irresponsible, and driving after drinking tequila would have
qualified on both counts—but he’d bet she wasn’t happy he’d seen her like
that. Gia didn’t let her guard down often.
He didn’t budge. “Field trip?”
She shot him a look. “We’ll get it
out of our systems.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. He
definitely needed “it” defined before he put his foot in his mouth.
“Well?” She looked at him
impatiently and jingled her keys. “Are you in or out?”
The way her gaze traveled down his
body and settled on his dick, she wasn’t talking about her passenger-side seat.
Not really.
“We need to talk,” he said weakly.
Christ. Who was the girl here?
She smiled. Slowly. Like she was
humoring him and didn’t care that he knew it. “Okay. Get in. We can talk while
I drive.”
He probably should have asked where
they were going—for all he knew, she planned on driving down to Death
Valley and dumping his ass out on the sand to roast—but he was pretty
much ready to go wherever she wanted. Because, holy Christ, Gia taking charge
was unexpectedly sexy. All that direct bluntness aimed his way and he had an
erection that wasn’t going to quit anytime soon.
Which she knew.
Because she’d checked him out.
He got in the cab while she walked
around and climbed in the driver’s side door. Gia’s truck was a mess, the seats
half-hidden beneath a pile of flannel and an extra pair of steel toes. The
woman also had enough tools to stock a small Home Depot. He shifted the junk so
he could buckle up and got comfortable in the seat.
After tossing her bag on the
backseat—which only added to the organizational carnage when half the
contents spilled out—she hopped in, flipped the key in the ignition and
peeled them out of the parking lot. When she turned on the radio, however, she
surprised him again. She apparently liked the same country crap his brother
liked. Which explained her enthusiasm for last night’s line dancing. She drove
as enthusiastically as she danced too. He’d jumped out of a dozen helicopter
bays with her and watched her wield a chainsaw with cool expertise but he
hadn’t, as far as he could remember, driven with her before.
And Gia drove fast.
Straight up the highway, like a
shot from a gun speeding toward some unseen target.
Hell .
He white-knuckled the grab bar above
the door. It was just possible she’d mistaken the highway for the Indy 500.
“Are we in a rush?”
Because he had plans for tomorrow
that dying would put a kink in.
“You can drive next time.” She
flicked him a small smile and he had no idea what she meant. But he definitely
liked the idea of her on the back of his Harley. Taking her riding had all
sorts of possibilities.
All too soon, she pulled off and
killed the motor. She didn’t rush into speech, though. No, she sat there,
running a finger over the steering wheel, listening to the ping of the engine
cooling down.
“So,” she said eventually.
“Yeah.” He didn’t know whether she’d
brought him out here to have her wicked way with him, or if she was finally in
the mood for conversation.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and
turned toward him. The foot and a half of black vinyl between them was nowhere
near enough space. Not if she wanted him to keep his hands to himself.
She took a deep breath.
“You need to stop staring at me.”
He wasn’t sure what the right
answer was. Hell. Apparently everyone but him knew he had the hots for her.
Well, he knew too, but what he hadn’t known was that it was written all
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