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“Ah. Well, over here we say,I’m sorry for your lossand move on.”
“I’m sorry for your loss and move on.”
She punched him in the arm. Hard. “Jackass.”
It wasn’t much of a joke, but her small laugh was enough to make it less uncomfortable. Resuming his steering wheel drumming, Xavier glanced at the still expanse of the cemetery. It really was a beautiful night.
Xavier turned on the radio and fiddled with the dial until he found something that wasn’t soulless pop. Tammy Wynette. Hope had said she loved The First Lady of Country. Who knew one woman could have such eclectic tastes? They listened in silence for a while.
“Did you know she had twenty-one country number one hits?” Hope blurted. “I mean, that’s insane, right?Stand By Your Mansold over two million alone.”
Her face lit up like a Christmas tree doused in petrol. It was electrifying. Then, just as suddenly it was extinguished. “Sorry, boring, I know.”
“Nah.”
“Nah, what?”
“Never apologise for being passionate. What makes you passionate is never boring. Don’t apologise for loving something, ever. Seeing how you light up like that isn’t boring. It’s sexy as hell.”
To Xavier, it seemed like her response was a well-formed habit. That she had been slapped down with ashut up, nobody caresso many times she felt guilty for her interest.
She cast a sideways glance. “If I was unbelievably interested in collecting Smurf figurines?”
“I’d listen intently if it made your eyes go all crinkly at the sides like that. It’s adorable. Honestly, if someone cares for you, they’ll listen to whatever you’re passionate about. If they don’t, they’re a dick.”
“So, you care for me, huh?”
The question was playful, but there seemed to be an undercurrent to it.Cover your tracks, Xav, cover them fast.He knew he was beginning to care too much for Hope, more than he should for such a casual arrangement.
“Ha. Of course not, we have an agreement.”Smooth, Bozo. Time for a deflection. “I’m serious about the interest thing, though. Don’t ever apologise for something that you love. If something floats your boat, find someone who wants to listen and sing it loud and proud.”
It took her a moment to process that. “Hmm.”
A wide grin crossed her lips, and she proceeded to tell him everything she loved about Tammy Wynette. Her vocal range, her history, everything. The words fell from her lips as though she’d been damming them up for years,
True to his word, he was enthralled. She was enthralling. He could listen to what she had to say for years. He wanted to hear what she had to say about everything, but he didn’t have years or even months. They only had a matter of days. The thought struck him like a spike in the chest.
Eventually her encyclopaedic knowledge waned, and they sat in silence staring once more at the graveyard.
“Listen, Xavier, I know how much you’d love to hear me rattle on about Tammy all night long, but I also know we camehere for a reason. I seem to have got a bit carried away, and here’s the thing. Would it be shitty if I said I wasn’t up for going in there tonight? It seems a bit…”
“Sleazy?”
“Yeah, that.”
Xavier turned off the radio and went to turn the key in the ignition.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I thought you said…”
“I said not to go in. As you’re the authority of all thing sex-law breaky, what’s the ruling if -– theoretically, of course -– two consenting, and let’s face it, devastatingly gorgeous adults, were to partake in a spot of carnal pleasuring in the parking lot of a graveyard? Not the actual graveyard in question. Would that still be breaking the sex-law? Theoretically, that is.”
“I do believe, and I’m talking purely from a non-professional sex-legal standpoint, you understand, that it would indeed be breaking the sex-law.”
How did she do it? One moment they were discussing death, and the next she had him so turned on he was harder than a Dutch theoretical physics exam.
Unbuttoning her cardigan, Hope took her time, seeming to enjoy the salivating look Xavier cast her from the driver’s seat. When her black lace bra was on display in the full moonlight, she placed her hand on his knee. Sliding her hand down Xavier’s inner leg, she bent forward over his lap. In a move so fast he never saw it coming, she pulled the chair release and sent the seat sliding backwards. He stretched out his legs to accommodate her. Thankfully, the rental car had plenty of space. Xavier couldn’t have touched the steering wheel even if he’d wanted to. He didn’t want to.
