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His pulse skipped—until she walked right past him.
Well. Color me invisible.
The blow sent his ego to his knees as Asher slowly turned and followed her back to the driveway.
“This is a ’69, right? Super Sport/Rally Sport combo?”
She slowly walked around the Camaro. The way her admiring gaze traced each line of the sleek body he’d restored made him jealous of his own damn car. He wouldn’t mind one bit if she looked at his body like that.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I’m impressed.”
He was even more impressed by the fact she stood back instead of running her fingers all over his custom, dusk blue paint job. He hated when people did that. Especially women who thought their hands on his car would turn him on.
Then again, if he was being honest, Honor’s hands on his car would definitely turn him on.
“I saw the back end of this baby in your garage the day after I moved in. Of all the classics, Camaros are my favorite.”
She tossed him a quick grin as he recalled Mr. Collins’ ’57 Chevy catching her attention that first day he’d spotted her through his screen door.
“I love that you skipped the stripe and rear spoiler. It looks so much cleaner without it. Sleek and sexy, and the black interior is perfect.”
She was perfect. Baked like a goddess, gorgeous as hell, and old car aficionado? There wasn’t a whole lot more a guy could ask for. He decided he didn’t care so much she wasn’t looking at him. Then she ducked to check out the interior, and he ran his gaze over the curve of her perfectly shaped ass to where her leggings ended just below her knees, showing off toned calves, bare feet, and sexy red toenails.
Thank you.
“Ever see the movie Better Off Dead with John Cusack?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Of course. It’s a cult classic.”
“My dad rented it for us to watch when I was about fifteen. That’s when I fell in love with this car.”
“So you do have it in you,” he teased.
“Well, I mean, with a body like this…”
He smiled at her joke, but he sure as hell understood the hot body argument.
She stepped back and ran her gaze over the Camaro one more time. He jerked his attention up when she did a quarter pivot to face him. His breath caught in his lungs when her gaze met his, her head tilted as a smile flirted on her lips.
“Any chance I can drive it sometime?”
If it keeps you looking at me like that, you can do anything you want, any time you want to.
“Can you drive a stick shift?” he retained enough common sense to inquire. But then the question had him thinking of some other stick she could shift.
Fuck. When did it get so hot?
Suddenly he wished he had a free hand to push up the sleeves of his Henley.
“I’m an expert at stick shift,” Honor said seriously.
Asher valiantly tried to drag his mind out of the gutter and narrowed his gaze in mock suspicion. “How do I know you’re not just saying that because my car seduced you?”
Her low laugh stirred his blood. “My dad taught me in his ’66 Mustang.”
Oh, man, that was one hell of a car. “Hardtop or convertible?”
“Fastback. Four speed manual transmission.”
