“Sure am.” He must have picked up the excitement in her voice. Well, she couldn’t exactly hide it. With the job she had, she felt like a kid in a candy store every damn day. “I took it for a run. Drives pretty sweet for an old girl in need of some TLC.”
He was quiet for several seconds, and when he spoke again, his voice was deeper, rougher. “I’m a Cadillac man myself.”
She snorted. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“If we start a Ford versus Cadillac debate, we’ll be here all night.”
She kind of liked the idea of that.
“You love what you do, huh?” he said into the surprisingly comfortable silence.
“Yep. More than anything. I love going to work every day.”
“I know that feeling.”
She could hear what sounded like wind whistling in the background. “Where are you?”
“Out on my deck, watching the whitecaps roll in.”
“You have an ocean view?” Duh, Rusty. Of course he does. Though for some reason, knowing he was loaded, more than likely came from money, didn’t make her as uncomfortable as it might have a week ago.
“Maybe I’ll show you sometime?”
Her belly did another happy flutter. Goddammit, he was getting to her, big time. “Maybe.” She got more comfortable. “When did you start messing around with cars?”
“When I was a kid. Guy next-door let me help him. He had a couple old cars he was doing up. Taught me the basics. I discovered I had a passion for fixin’ cars. Because of him, I was ahead of the rest when I went for an apprenticeship. The rest is history.”
“So your dad wasn’t into cars like mine?”
He cleared his throat. “My old man wasn’t into much of anything.”
The way he said it, she knew there was more to that story, but she didn’t want to pry. “My mom wasn’t too thrilled that both her daughters would rather hang around a dirty garage than go shopping and crap like that. In the end, she gave up trying.”
“Good thing,” he said softly. “You got talent, baby. You’re doing what you were born to do.”
Okay. That was really nice—and set off a whole new batch of happy flutters. “Thanks.”
“It’s the truth. What are you up to tonight?”
“I thought I’d have an early one.”
“You tucked up in bed?” he said all deep and growly.
The lightness in his voice had vanished, and she felt it. A low pulse started between her legs. “Mmm-hmm.”
She’d thought his voice was rough before, but when he spoke again, it was nothing but gravel. “You a nighty girl, Rusty? Or are you the kind of girl who wears one of her ex’s old T-shirts to bed?”
Maybe that was his not so subtle way of asking about an ex-boyfriend? And had he really just asked her what she was wearing? Was she really going to tell him? “Definitely no ex-boyfriend’s T-shirt for me.” No ex at all. “I’m…I’m a panties and old tank kind of girl.” Apparently, she was going to tell him.
“Fuck.” The word was nothing but a whispered rasp, she wasn’t even sure he meant for her to hear it, but she was glad she did.
He was quiet after that, for several seconds, long enough, if she hadn’t still been able to hear wind whistling in the background, she’d think they’d been disconnected. “You still there?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m here.” She heard the sound of the door again. “I gotta go, babe, but I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.” The words were out before she knew what she was saying, before she could overthink it.
“Bye, baby.”
