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His grin stuttered the moment Darren waddled into view, splattered in gobs of mud. Darren blinked dazedly.
“Oh my God!” Isaiah froze. “Darren, I’m so sorry. I—”
A snort walloped out of Darren, followed by deep and heavy laughter. Isaiah’s horror gave way and he chuckled. Darren did look ridiculous.
Darren ran his hands over his face and flung mud to the ground. He attempted to flick it from his shirt but smeared it.
Isaiah burst into another bout of laughter. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’d say you did it on purpose, but I’m the idiot who got behind a car stuck in the mud.” Darren tried rubbing the mud off his forearms and gave up. “I need a shower.”
“I don’t know. This look is really working for you.”
Darren scowled playfully, and Isaiah cut the distance between them. A sticky clump of mud sat at the curve of Darren’s neck, and, hesitantly, Isaiah lifted his fingers and wiped it off. The dirt stuck to his fingers, but the warmth of Darren’s skin sunk into him.
Their gazes clashed, and Christ, they were close. So close their breaths were mingling.
Isaiah gulped and stepped back. “How are you going to get home without ruining the car?”
Darren pivoted toward the trunk. “I always keep towels in the trunk.” He peeled off his shirt, turned it inside out, and then popped the lid.
Two minutes of vigorous rubbing had most of the dirt off his skin. But his clothes were a lost cause. Darren glanced at him, hesitated, then blushed as he shucked his shorts, rolled them and the shirt in a towel, and put them in the cargo space.
Isaiah trained his gaze over the green pastures glittering in the midmorning sunshine. But out the corner of his eye, there was Darren. Gorgeous, hot Darren standing there in just his boxers.
Isaiah peeked at him as he placed a clean towel on the passenger seat. He was all athletic limbs and gently corded muscle; his boxers clung to the perfect globes of his ass.
Darren pulled out of the car, catching Isaiah as he ripped his gaze away.
“So, um, beautiful view out here,” Isaiah blurted.
Darren laughed, a slightly nervous ring to it. He caught Isaiah’s gaze and held it. “I think so too.”
Isaiah was going to burst from all the crazy bolts of electricity riddling him.
Darren sat on his towel and kicked off his sneakers. His white anklet socks were relatively untouched. He held out his shoes. “Can you put these in the trunk?”
Isaiah put them away and resumed his spot behind the wheel. “What if I can’t drive your car?”
Darren swung his legs in. “You’ll be fine. This stretch isn’t too busy. You’ll have time to figure it out.”
He wasn’t so confident. Especially not with his copilot sitting inches away in just his boxers. Keep your eyes on the road.
Darren
Contrary to his fears, Isaiah did just fine.
As Darren expected, once Isaiah got a feel for the car, he handled it like a pro.
Isaiah stared ahead like it was a blizzard with no visibility. But they talked, laughed about what had happened, and generally put their earlier misunderstanding behind them. Life was good. Better when they reached the house and the town car wasn’t out front.
“Thank God. Dad’s not home yet.”
“That’s good?”
Darren shifted on his towel, then jerked a finger at his muddy skin. “I just don’t think he’ll see the humor in this.” Isaiah eyed him carefully. Like he knew there was more to it. Darren smoothed on a smile. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“I’m going to shower in the pool house. Could you bring me some clean shorts?”
“Where’s the pool house?”
Sweaty images of the two of them in the shower suddenly had Darren blushing and furiously backtracking. He pointed to the open area in front of the car barn. “Actually, bring the shorts here. I need to hose down the car first. Park just there.”
Isaiah sighed. “Thank God I don’t have to back this inside.”
“Yep, no worries there. Once I change, I’ll put it away.”
When Isaiah left, Darren found his shorts in the trunk and put them on. If his dad came home, muddy shorts were preferable to just boxers. He got out the hose, attached the nozzle, and rinsed the car. Lying on the wet pavement, he aimed the spray under the chassis. It would still need to be detailed, but he wanted to get the bulk of the mud off before it set.
“Darren?” his mom called. “Why are you lying on the wet ground?”
He discontinued the spray and stood.
“Oh my God!” Mom’s initial shock at his appearance turned to amusement. “What happened to you?”
Darren scrubbed pointlessly at his mud-caked arms. “Yeah, the car got stuck in mud. Isaiah was a little zealous on the gas.” He waved his hands down his body.
“You let Isaiah drive your car?” She raised her eyebrows, a knowing twinkle in her eye.
