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Moose looked over the interior, considering his words. He’d known Taco was putting in some serious hours on the car, but he hadn’t really seen the befores, so he didn’t know much about the afters. All he knew were the stories, and according to the grapevine, Taco was skilled in automotive everything. They might have to trade notes sometime.
“She looks great,” he offered.
Taco chuckled. “You have no clue the amount of work I put into her. Hours, man. Some days, I thought I’d never get her done. She’s a beauty though. Maybe I’ll shoot you over some pictures later so you can see how far she’s come.”
“Do that,” Moose agreed.
“So where we headed?”
Up till now, they’d been driving blindly, but Moose hadn’t really been thinking about it because Taco had unknowingly headed in the right direction. Instead of trying to count the lights and point out turns, he put Angel’s address into his phone’s GPS and took the guesswork out of it for both of them.
“So you stuck on that girl, or what?” Taco asked as they took the last turnoff.
Moose stared out the window, unsure how to answer that particular question. He’d been asking himself the same lately. To be honest, he was sweet on her, but he was also thinking maybe they were getting a little too hot a little too fast.
He wanted to claim Angel in the worst way. Wanted to make shit official so no one else could come in and scoop her up, but that wasn’t good reasoning if you wanted a relationship to last…especially when he wasn’t even sure how far he wanted theirs to go. That was a lie though. He knew, but he was struggling with himself.
Short or long-term, that was the question.
To Taco, he said, “We’re just hanging out right now.”
“So nothing serious? Because it looked kind of serious when we rolled up on you two earlier.”
Moose didn’t bother trying to explain himself. “It’s the one on the corner with the flamingo.”
They didn’t live anywhere near Florida or natural flamingo habitats to warrant that kind of lawn ornament, but Angel’s twisted sense of humor or lack of decorating sense—whatever it was—made Moose smile. She was something else…
“That’s…interesting,” Taco commented with the hint of a smile in his voice.
As soon as the car rolled to a stop at the curb, Moose was up and out. “Thanks for the ride, bro,” he said before turning to march up the lawn. Was it rude of him to just cut and run? Sure the fuck was, but he had his sights and thoughts focused on one thing and one thing only. He’d be sure to tell Taco how much he appreciated his good deed another time.
Right now, he was going to make his little mouse squeak.
***
Rena had made a couple new friends. Male friends with starched, collared shirts and shiny pompadours and Converse paired with expensive, made-to-look-rugged jeans.
College boys.
She hated them.
But they had Daddy’s charge card and knew how to keep the booze flowing.
She liked that.
What she liked more was the attention of the man in the corner. He’d had his eye on her since the moment she walked through the door. She’d had hers on him too. He was laid back, dressed nicer than these wannabe loser frat boys and had that dark and dangerous vibe hanging over him. And he was exotic. She couldn’t place his origins, but it was definitely somewhere south of the border. Yum.
Several glances his way, she’d noted all that delicious caramel colored skin, that inky black hair, and those piercing eyes.
She’d always loved her brown boys.
In Rena’s experience, they were the ultra-flirts, the romantics, and the type to sweep a woman straight off her feet with just a few words and the ability to destroy her just as easily. They always knew what to say, how to say it, and no matter how big of a player they were, she never failed to fall for it.
That man had “player” written all over him.
Would that stop her from falling into his expertly-crafted web? Not a chance. She knew the instant she laid eyes on him that she was going to trip over both of her feet to get into bed with him.
If only he’d get up and come over.
