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We walked toward the Bronco, and I opened her door. “I normally am. Back home, I have a sixty-eight Bronco. I drive this when I’m on the road.”
“Fancy,” she muttered. “The Corolla Uncle Leo bought me almost ten years ago is still ticking for me. Though, the radio is on the fritz, and I’ve replaced the driver’s door mirror seven times.”
I blinked slowly. “Seven times?”
She looked up at me and shrugged. “I mean to me, that’s a pretty good average for having it ten years. Not even a mirror a year.” She put her hand on my arm and pushed herself up into the Bronco. “This thing seems rather tall like its owner,” she mumbled.
I helped swing her legs in and grabbed the seat belt. “I’m a big man, Greta. You think I’m gonna drive around in a fucking Prius or something?” I stretched the strap across her and leaned over to fasten it.
“I would pay money to see you get out of a Prius,” she giggled. “My whole paycheck.”
“Keep your money, mama; that’s never going to happen.” Over my dead body.
“It would probably save you a lot on gas mileage.”
I turned my head, and my eyes connected with hers. “I’ll pay double just not to have to drive a Prius.”
“Hmm, you’re pretty adamant about that.”
“I know what I want, Greta.”
She pursed her lips and tipped her head to the side. “I do, too,” she whispered.
“Good.” I dropped my eyes to travel down her chest and smiled. “I better get you home, mama.” I stood straight and slammed her door shut.
Greta wanted me.
I wanted her.
But I didn’t know was if anything was going to happen between us.
I didn’t know what she wanted in the end, and I already knew where my end was.
Not here.
