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She shrugged. “I guess I thought I always needed a lot of space of my own.”
“And do you?”
“Not as much as I thought, apparently.” She ran a pink fingernail along a groove in the counter, and he swallowed a groan. Yet another reason he never could’ve taken her there. The place wasn’t classy enough for a woman like her. “I guess the plan to ravage me is out the window?”
“Ravaging you’s out for tonight at least, yes. Seducing you, no.” He stilled her hand and laced their fingers together. “How do you feel about going home and taking a bath?”
“A bath?”
“Mmm-hmm. In my nice big tub that happens to have lots of jets.”
“With Kim there?” Even as she asked the question, she drew her hand away to fumble her phone out of her purse. “Shoot, she’s home alone. I told her I’d call to check in if I was running late.”
He watched her go through her mother hen routine via cell. After several minutes of stops and starts and halfhearted offers of extra pillows and soup—though what soup would do for a sore ankle, he had no idea—she hung up and frowned. “She asked me to call you and tell you not to come home. When I told her about my car, she seemed relieved we’d both be out of the house.”
Used to his sister’s antics, he went back to his form. “Are we being evicted?”
“I think she has a man over.”
“Now there’s a shocking turn of events.” He hooked Sara’s car keys to the top of the clipboard and set it aside. “I don’t have a loaner vehicle available or I’d give you one. Since you’re so demanding of my time—” he grinned at her glower, “—do you want to keep my truck tomorrow?”
“I don’t know how to drive a stick.”
“Really. I thought you did fine.” At her bland look, he laughed and tossed her his truck keys. She caught them one-handed. “I’ll give you a lesson on the way home.”
“You’d actually let me drive your truck? And what do you mean, on the way home? Kim told us to stay away.”
“It’s half my house and last time I checked, she’s not the boss of me. And yes, Sara, I would let you drive my truck. If you strip the gears, I’ll just strip you.” He circled the counter and drew her firm backside against his rapidly firming front. One glimpse of the total package of that uptight business outfit, and he was a dead man. Except below the waist where he was very much alive. “Oops, forgot,” he murmured against her neat clip of hair. “I’ll be doing that anyway.” Though in a place much more suitable for it than a shop where a bunch of grimy guys hung out all day. She deserved much better than a quick screw.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“And you love it.”
“I do.” The glow returned to her cheeks as she smiled over her shoulder at him. “Thank you, Brad.”
“You’re welcome.” He swatted her butt as she hurried ahead of him out into the parking lot. “Though I won’t be as understanding if you manhandle my truck. She’s my pride and joy.”
“Men and their toys,” she called airily as she hauled herself up into the cab without waiting for him once again. His fault for taking that extra instant to lock up. Though, hot damn, he couldn’t claim to not enjoy the view of those strong, capable legs flexing under her tight skirt.
The only benefit to the torturous drive home was that it was short. He didn’t deny that Sara did her best to learn, and he didn’t exactly give her a lot of time, but man, his truck. His truck.
She pulled into the driveway and turned off th
e ignition. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better tomorrow.” Even she didn’t sound convinced.
Little did she know there wouldn’t be a tomorrow, at least as far as she and the truck were concerned. “You did fine. Now hand over the keys.”
“It was my first time,” she protested.
He climbed down and went around to her side. Unsurprisingly, she was already getting down on her own. If he wanted to show her he could be a frigging gentleman, he was going to have to tie her in place.
Which didn’t sound altogether bad.
She followed him up the driveway around the side of the house, her heels clicking sharply on the blacktop. “No one’s good at anything their first time.”
“I gave a girl three orgasms the first time I had sex. Sorry, try a new argument.” They walked into the backyard and he glanced up at the second floor deck. He could probably still get up there, but if he fell, it’d definitely cut down on the cool factor.
“Showoff,” she muttered. “And don’t even think about that deck. I’m not sixteen, and you’re not Superman.”
