Tectonic (Double Blind Study Book 3)

by Heidi Hutchinson

  “If I have the option, I'm hoping for the kiss.”

  She scowled at him from under her dark eyebrows and he chuckled again. “ I take it I did good choosing tonight's activities?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don't sound so happy.”

  “It's because I'm going to be completely unprepared. I'm all for doing things spontaneously. But meeting Dave Grohl is the kind of moment that needs to be planned. The only reason I'm considering forgiving you is because I get to go there in this seriously sweet ride.” Her voice got breathless at the end and he swallowed another smile. Yep, too adorable for her own good.

  ***

  “C'mon! You can't be serious!”

  Shane closed his eyes as he heard Greta's voice loud above the sounds of the pool hall. He had only been in the restroom for three minutes, what could that girl have possibly gotten into now?

  He shoved his way through the crowd, back to where he'd left her. Why wasn't he surprised that she was surrounded by no fewer than eight guys holding beers, all with shit-eating grins on their faces? Greta's face was flushed and her hands were gesturing wildly as she yelled in exasperation at the guy who was closest to her.

  “Kobe Bryant should have retired by now. He used to be good, not great, but decent. He needs to know when enough is enough and stop embarrassing himself.” She tipped back her bottle of Fat Tire and swallowed the remaining contents as the guy she was speaking to gave his retort. Shane couldn't hear it from where he was, but the smirk on the man's face said he was having fun with this conversation and was in no way offended by Greta's vocal opposition.

  The place was packed. They'd made good time and gotten a decent parking spot and subsequent claim close to the stage area once they were finished with their pizza. Greta said they had to stay right there, otherwise someone would horn in. That's why they had to take turns going to the bathroom or getting drinks, which is the only reason he'd left her alone for a short period of time.

  The drive up had felt fast as Greta and Shane talked the whole way. Everything ranging from deep childhood traumas to their opinions on whether or not people should be as concerned as they were with the Kardashians.

  Music was a huge topic where Shane was pleasantly surprised to discover they had a lot in common. Greta's relationship to her brother, the rock star, had helped her develop a vast taste in all things awesome. They liked the same bands, thought certain ones were overrated, and she knew all the words to every Foo Fighters song ever.

  In other words, she was even more kick-ass than he had originally thought.

  They talked about surfing, cooking, how learning to drive a stick was a rite of passage, favorite action movies, the fact that Sylvester Stallone was “the man,” and what was the best kind of cheese to use for homemade nachos.

  He discovered she had a tattoo, though she wouldn't say what or where, and he made a mental note to come back to that subject later.

  She was a diehard fan of all things Boston, which he had to give her a hard time for since he was born and raised a Lakers fan. He had no qualms with her chosen football team, but basketball was kind of a big deal. The Celtics/Lakers rivalry was legendary and there was no way he could let that go.

  And she was funny. Like, hilariously, ridiculously funny. And she seemed to think the same of him. They both laughed at and with one another throughout the entire trip, making the drive go that much faster.

  Her infectious smile and ability to talk to anyone anywhere brought him back to the present. He hesitated walking away from her, even knowing he would be right back, because he knew the men around them would fall on her like wolves. But even from this distance he could see she was holding her own. Not intimidated or overwhelmed. Relaxed, comfortable, like she was hanging out with a bunch of friends she'd known for years. Apparently the rock star gene ran in the family.

  Shane's size made it easier for him to reach her. He slid his hand along her upper back, pushing her hair over one shoulder and pulling her into his side. She looked up at him, smile beaming as he fixed a crooked grin on her.

  “Are you trying to start a riot, gorgeous? You know this town bleeds purple and gold.”

  “Sorry.” She almost looked bashful. For like a second. “But he asked for my opinion.”

  “And God forbid you keep that to yourself.” Shane chuckled when she rolled her eyes and he tucked her a little closer to his side, completely aware of the looks of awe and disdain being cast at him from her surrounding male company. “You need another beer?” He nodded toward her empty.

  “Nah, one is good. I'm hoping I can talk you into letting me drive the Snake later tonight.”

  He didn't reply except to give her a huge grin. But her attention was drawn to the floor where Taylor Hawkins had taken his seat behind the drums.

  Chevy Metal was a cover band. And they were awesome. Ten dollars for a ticket was small potatoes compared to the show they provided. Greta insisted on paying for her own ticket, so Shane insisted he buy the pizza. But then she paid for their beers. He could see that getting her to accept this as a date would be a trick, but the night wasn't over yet.

  The room was crowded and small. The walls were covered in posters and the ceilings were low, which led to the music being exceptionally loud. So small. So intimate. Shane knew by the excitement radiating from Greta's small frame that this was the perfect choice for tonight's activity.

  The people pushed closer and Shane moved behind Greta, using his size to keep others from crushing into her. She didn't notice. Once the music began she was in a whole new mindset. Her arms were above her head, her body was moving to the beat and her lips were singing every word.

  ***

  “Did you see the girl that threw her bra at Taylor?” Greta asked, her smile beginning to hurt her cheeks.

  “Yeah, babe, I saw that.” Shane chuckled but didn't take his eyes off the road. Greta pulled her hair, a sweaty and tangled mess, back into a careless bun and secured it with the hair tie in her pocket.

  “And the guy who couldn't stop crying when they played 'Panama?' I mean, it's a cool song, but I've never seen anyone moved to tears by it.”

  Shane just smiled.

  Greta watched the lights through the windshield for a few minutes, replaying the evening in her head again.

  “Sorry Dave Grohl wasn't there,” Shane remarked softly into the silence.

  Greta shrugged it off. “No big. It's not our time. I can wait.”

  Shane took a small off ramp and pulled into the parking lot of an insurance company. Greta frowned silently at the change in direction. The lights were off in the building and the lot was empty. That made sense seeing as it was almost eleven at night.

  “What's going on?” she finally asked as Shane put the sleek car into park, pulling up the brake.

  He turned to her with a secret smile playing on his lips. “I thought you'd wanna drive the Viper back.”

  Greta felt her breath catch in her throat.

  He couldn't be serious.

  Was he serious?

  “Breathe, Greta.”

  She let out a whoosh of air. Shane's lips twitched as he studied her face, and she could only imagine what she looked like. Probably wide-eyed and crazy. He reached over and pulled the handle of the door. She felt the soft clunk of it opening in the center of her belly.

  He came around to her side of the car and opened her door. She stepped out stiffly and stared up at him.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” he answered without hesitation.

  She had no idea how he could be comfortable with this. She had a hard time letting other people drive her Wrangler. If the Viper were hers, there was no way she'd relinquish control so easily. She had been joking when she had mentioned it at The Rack, she never dreamed he would take her seriously.

  Greta slid into the driver's seat and her skin actually began tingling. Every part of her body that was touching the leather felt alive, and her heart began to quicken. Her brea
th became heavier, her skin felt flushed, and a small tremble started at her center. She had imagined that this is what it would feel like when she kissed the love of her life the first time. But of all the guys she'd kissed, she'd never experienced the rush she was feeling at that moment. What did it mean that she had more of a physical reaction to driving a fast car than she did making out with any of her previous boyfriends? She wasn't going to analyze that right now. But for some reason she decided to vocalize it.

  “My first kiss was in tenth grade. I was fifteen. It was with Chaz Franklin and I had been crushing on him hard all semester. I snuck out with my best friend, Andi, to go to a party for the seniors. Chaz kissed me on the back porch of his parents' house. It was terrible. All tongue, teeth, and spit. He slobbered all over my face and I couldn't get away from him fast enough.”

  She took a deep breath and glanced over at Shane who was watching her, lips trying not to smile at her story. “A first kiss should be exciting. It should give you heart palpitations and make you forget your name. It's supposed be thrilling, heart-racing and throw your world into fantastic disarray.” She slid her teeth over her bottom lip and faced forward again. “This. How I feel right now. This is what a first kiss should feel like.”

  She disengaged the parking brake, felt the car snarl beneath her, checked her mirrors, and let the beast lose.

  Chapter 8

  Headwires

  When Shane had christened Greta “Crazy Girl,” he'd had no idea how close to the mark he was hitting.

  She was flat-out nuts.

  The drive back to her place was easily cut in half the minute she swung the Viper out of the parking lot. The car responded to her coaxing demands in ways that it never had with him. He couldn't decide between being intimidated or turned on. He settled on the latter with a healthy awareness of the former.

  She drove like the car had been built with her in mind. He asked several times throughout their wild ride if she was lying about never having driven one before. After the third time he'd repeated his question, she let out a hearty laugh and turned the music up louder.

  Thank God she had excellent taste in music. Choosing from his collection, she plugged in the Foo Fighters' One By One album. And sang every single word.

  That brought them to now, standing in the moonlight at her front door. He wasn't ready to say goodnight. And considering her smile was wide and she was still buzzed from the drive home, it didn't look like she was going to be asking him to leave anytime soon.

  That was perfectly fine with him.

  “You want a beer?” she asked abruptly as she pushed the front door open and he followed her inside.

  “Yeah.” He closed the door behind them, looking around for signs of Steve, Bo or Brady.

  He didn't have time to really figure out if they were alone before Greta had two beers in hand and she motioned for him to join her in the living room.

  She plopped onto the center of the sofa, motioning for him to sit next to her. He happily complied, taking the opened beer from her hand. She reached for the remote and switched on the TV.

  “I just want to see the highlights,” she said around a sip from her own bottle.

  Shane tore his eyes away from her lips to see the Celtics highlight reel from that night's game on the beautiful big screen.

  “Sacrilege,” he muttered under his breath, but she must have heard him because she plucked his beer out of his hand, and leaned far away to set it on the end table.

  “No beer for you.”

  Shane lunged, wrapping one arm around her middle, holding her steady while his other arm reached behind her and down her outstretched arm to take the beer back from her.

  “That's cheating!” Greta gasped around her laugh. “You can't make fun of the Celtics in my home and expect to be rewarded with beer.”

  Shane took a long swig of his prize while holding back a grin. He swallowed and rested the bottle on his knee. His focus went back to the screen.

  “We should go to a Lakers game together sometime,” he suggested seriously. Her head whipped to his direction.

  “You realize that I would be cheering for the opposing team.”

  Shane chuckled. “I guess I'll have to brush up on my bodyguard skills beforehand then.”

  “You didn't do too badly tonight.”

  So she had noticed that he was blocking her from the crush at the show. Good to know.

  As he looked over at her in the darkened room, he really wanted to see her at a Lakers game. He could already picture her standing at the half court line shouting obscenities at the refs and players who were three times her size. How he knew that's what she would do was a mystery to him. But he knew it just as sure as he knew that she had the most gorgeous pair of eyes he'd ever seen.

  “If you make me go to a Lakers game, then it's only fair for me to make you go to a Celtics game while we're in Boston.”

  “When are we going to Boston?” Shane asked quietly, and he barely noticed Greta stiffen in her seat. She kept her eyes forward when she answered.

  “Just saying.”

  Shane let that settle where it was. But he was already mentally packing what he'd need to bring to meet Greta's family. The way she had said it made it sound like a promise. And he liked that.

  “Do you go to a lot of games?” she asked.

  “Yeah, when I'm here.” Then for some reason he decided to share, “I always hit the Christmas game.”

  Her head swiveled in his direction, but he kept his eyes on the screen like the highlight reel was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

  “Isn't that your birthday?”

  He slid his eyes in her direction as he took another large swallow from his beer. “Yeah.” She held his eyes, and he felt the Greta tractor beam engage. The one she used when she was getting ready to pull deep information from inside of him.

  “Does anyone go with you?”

  Shane licked his lips before he answered. “No. My friends all have families.”

  “Who do you have?”

  Damn. It had happened again.

  Greta had him completely disarmed with a slow blink and a simple question.

  “I don't have anyone,” he nearly whispered. Her face softened and warmed as she waited for him to share further.

  “My parents died a long time ago. I never had siblings. My grandparents were gone before I was born. No aunts and uncles, so no cousins.” He took a breath and looked down, unfocused. “I always swore that when I got married and started a family I'd have like six kids. Because it sucks not having that.”

  Greta's hand glided into his vision as she rested it on his thigh. He stared at it, thinking how warm it felt and marveling at the strength there despite its delicate shape.

  “I think that's a wonderful plan,” she said gently. He raised his eyes to hers.

  “I keep screwing myself out of that kind of a future.” He shook his head. “I'm gonna be thirty-two, Greta. At this rate, I'm headed toward a future like Serge. No wife, no kids. No one.”

  “First of all, Serge is a totally different kind of animal. He's alone because he chooses to be. Don't compare yourself to him. Secondly, Shane, look at me.”

  He had looked down when she'd started speaking, but returned her stare at her demand and the slight squeeze on his leg.

  “You have a lot to offer someone. I know you only see your faults. That's what we do, as humans. We focus on the flaws and think that's all we are. But your faults are so small in comparison to the man you are as a whole. You're loyal to your friends, you're so sweet to Clarke, treating her like the sister you wish you had, you let go of Lucy knowing she was meant for someone else, your employees love you because you're fair and decent to work for. Not to mention my favorite characteristics, which include your competitiveness, your drive and passion, your bold ambition that you temper with ridiculous humility. You're the whole package, Brookings. The woman who gets you and all you have to give is gonna be deliriously happy.”

&
nbsp; Shane's heartbeat was pounding in his head like a drum. He wanted to believe her. All the things she said, he wanted that to be true.

  “But my faults, Greta... they're so huge. You've seen the tabloids, heard the rumors, probably watched at least one exposé on my dalliances during my rise to the top. It's all true. They haven't told any lies.”

  She set her beer down on the coffee table and turned to face him fully.

  “I need you to listen to me for a second. You've lived in California a long time. Earthquakes are part of life. They happen because of faults in the earth's crust that happen to get a lot of activity. It's the same with people. Our faults get a lot of attention because of the drama they cause when they're active. But you can't live your whole life standing on a fault line and staring at it.”

  “But earthquakes can destroy everything.”

  “Yeah,” Greta agreed soberly. “They can. But the size of the damage is usually related to the amount of activity around it. If a fault line has more stress, it inflicts more damage. Maybe you shouldn't put so much focus on those areas of your life.”

  “So you're saying I should just ignore my faults.”

  “No, I'm saying be aware of them and how they can impact the world around you. But don't give them more power than they don't deserve.” She took a breath and looked past his shoulder. “Shifting plates don't always bring bad things, Shane. How do you suppose we ended up with the mountains that you love so much?”

  Shane swallowed, taking it all in. It was like she had a blueprint of how his head worked, knowing exactly what to say and how to say it to penetrate the thick layer of ice he'd set up to keep everyone out. It didn't stop her, she blazed right through.

  “Of course it's scary,” she continued, reading his thoughts, “just hold on tight. Things stop moving eventually.”

  “How did you get so smart?” he asked her seriously.

  Greta only smiled, knowing she'd made her point.

  He rested his hand on top of hers that was still resting on his thigh. “When can you get time off of work to go to Tahoe with me?”