Pop The Clutch: A Second Gear Romance

by Kristin Harte

  “Not the literal here. Downriver here. Why didn’t you leave?”

  “I never wanted to.”

  “Liar.” I turned and pointed at him, my eyes crossing a bit as I tried to focus. “You told me once that you hated it here.”

  He was silent for a long time, staring at me. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t have put an inch between us if I’d tried. And by the way he kept his hand locked with mine, I’d guess he felt the same way.

  “I did then. That night…picking you up in the rain and talking…I’ve thought about it a million times since,” he finally whispered.

  He remembered. Something unknotted inside me, something warm and comforting. Something that felt an awful lot like being safe. I smiled up at him, almost ready to cry. “You saved me.”

  “Sometimes, I think I made you run.” His words were soft and low, more confession than anything else. But he didn’t need to confess to me.

  “I didn’t think you even remembered.”

  “How could I forget? It was the first time I’d really spoken to you since you’d shot me down for a date.”

  “I didn’t shoot you down.”

  “You said no.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “That’s shooting me down. But that night in the rain, I got to spend a little more time with you, even if it wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

  Or just plain under the worst. “You said nothing mattered as much as being happy and safe did. You gave me permission to look for my future outside this place.”

  “I remember that.” He nodded, looking down at his beer bottle like it held the answers to all the secrets in the world. “And are you? Happy and safe out there?”

  I finished my drink before twisting in the seat again and leaning my head against his shoulder. “I think so. Getting away from everything was what I was looking for. I wanted to disappear for a while. Everything here is so in-your-face—too many families intertwined, too many people knowing your every move. Chicago is busy and noisy and crowded and way too expensive, and there are days when I hate it, but I’m truly me there. No hiding or stressing about what other people are saying behind my back. I get to live my life without the judgment I suffered through here.”

  He nodded, leaning into me to drop his empty bottle in the bag at my feet, grabbing my cup to do the same. “Yeah, I guess I can see that.”

  But his words didn’t register. I was entranced by him, staring hard at his arms. The way the muscles flexed and stretched, the strength they exuded while doing something as simple as dropping items into a paper sack. He was no longer the boy I remembered. The one who’d sheltered me in this very truck all those years ago. He was a grown man, one I found ridiculously attractive.

  As he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me even closer, I sighed. And then the alcohol completely took over as I opened my mouth.

  “Jesus, when did you get so big?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  EASTON

  Violet was so close, leaning in, staring at my mouth. My mind went blank, too lost in images of her to know what to do or say. I’d pictured her this way a hundred times, thought about what it would be like to have her all to myself even though I’d never told anyone. But that had been back in school, back when I’d had a broken family that needed me to be their caretaker and Violet had had a boyfriend who’d treated her… Well, he’d treated her well until he hadn’t. Even before that night at the pizza place, I’d noticed her. Had harbored a secret crush on her. And through all the years she’d been gone, I’d never lost that little bit of attraction. Had never fully let go of her as someone I wished I’d had a chance to know better.

  But I’d never been as close to finding out the secrets of Violet Foster as I was in that moment. I knew this was a bad idea—like stopping on the tracks and playing chicken with that oncoming train. I could practically see the freight train heading for me from miles away, but I couldn’t make myself jump clear of the tracks. I was going to risk it all on this girl, this woman, because I’d always been willing to. I’d just never had the opportunity before.

  Violet leaned closer, her eyes on mine, giving me enough of a signal to say fuck it all. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to grab her and hold her as that train crashed into us and destroyed our worlds. I’d wanted her in some way, shape, or form for years, and I was finally giving in and having her.

  I inched forward, one arm on the back of the seat to hold myself up as I herded her backward. She dropped her knee to the side as her shoulders hit the passenger door, leaning back, practically spread before me. Giving me room to crawl up her body and almost pin her in place. I wanted to shift closer, to press my body against hers. To feel every inch of her. I ached for it even as I resisted. Even as the pressure of my cock, restrained as it was, made my hands tremble with need.

  Jesus, she seemed so small as I hovered over her. Tiny, almost. It had to be an illusion, the shadows playing tricks on my mind. Violet wasn’t a tiny girl, wasn’t petite or waif-like. Yet there in the dark in the cab of my truck, she seemed small and almost innocent. An odd thought, considering what I’d seen her do in a grainy security video a lifetime ago.

  And fuck, didn’t that thought make me feel like an ass.

  Refocusing on the girl right in front of me, I leaned in. Not wanting to push, but definitely making my move. She matched me, her body mimicking mine to bring us closer together. I kept my weight on my arm, but there was no way around covering her with the way she was leading me down the seat. Not if I was going to reach her lips. And I would…I had to. At that point, only a refusal from her would get me to stop.

  “Easton,” she whispered, bringing her hands to my shoulders.

  “Yeah?” I paused just before her lips brushed mine, making her wait for it. And she did—she waited. My arm shook and my heart raced as the reality settled over me—I was about to kiss Violet Foster.

  “I never got to say thanks for the pizza all those years ago,” she whispered, her breath sweet as it blew across my lips.

  “Your smile that night was thanks enough.”

  She squeezed my arms once and smiled up at me in that same way she had so many years before. Something about the darkness, the warmth of the truck cab, the quiet of the night outside. It spoke to me. Pulled a thread inside of me until I was wound too tight to do anything other than snap.

  As that thread broke, I pressed my lips to hers without a second thought to the consequences. Soft and warm, she kissed me back, moving her lips with mine. Letting me taste her, letting me submerge myself in the scent of vanilla that was simply Violet. Letting me bite down on that soft flesh just enough to make her jump.

  She gasped and pulled me closer, nearly wrapping herself around me, her soft skin fire against my own. And, oh God, did I like the feel of her…everywhere. This was no gentle first kiss. This was strong and wild, a kiss filled with attraction and chemistry. Violet’s lips on mine felt right, and the way she immediately opened for me—how she stroked her tongue against mine without waiting for me to lead—was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced. In the cab of my truck, behind the ice arena, I was living my teenage fantasy, and it was better than I’d ever imagined.

  Violet became more aggressive as I deepened the kiss. Matching my moves and letting me know she wanted more. Greedy in the best possible way. She tugged on my arms, her little nails scraping over my flesh. Trying to move us closer, something I willingly gave in to. The vinyl seat creaked beneath me, but I didn’t care. It only added to the sound of her breathing, to the little gasps and sighs she uttered as I made sure she remembered our first kiss.

  She hitched her knee over my hip to keep me where she wanted, and I moaned. She was just so damn warm all over. I wrapped my arm underneath her, my hand moving to grip her hair, to clutch the softness of it so I could control her movements that much more. And she let me…which was almost my undoing. That and the throaty groan she gave when I tugged just a little.

  Needing more, I
slid my other hand down to her hip, inching over her ribcage and waist along the way. Fuck, her skin was so hot and smooth, so much the opposite of mine. I hoped she didn’t mind the roughness of my hand, because I couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go. And still, I kissed her deeper. Ran my tongue along her lips, tasting the sugary-sweet flavor of her drink. Another pass, a tiny bite, both of which earned me a little gasp of pleasure. Just as I’d hoped.

  Her hand dropped to the back my thigh, grabbing my flesh, kneading it. I groaned and yanked her closer, wrapping myself around her in a possessive sort of way that made my cock practically weep. She was so strong, so tempting. So addictive. There was no denying her anything. No pulling away from the scent of her, the sounds. The taste. I let my weight rest against her, just enough to truly feel her body all along mine. Enough to tease both of us into heavy breaths and whispered curses without pushing her into the door too hard. And fuck, it was good—warm and soft and perfect—yet I wanted more.

  Cautiously, slowly, I slid my hand under her shirt and up her stomach. Stopping only once my fingers rested at the bottom of her breast. Daring yet restrained. Violet groaned and hissed a curse, arching her back into my touch. Giving me the green light for more. I pressed forward, my fingers running back and forth over the thin fabric of her bra. Pulling it down enough so I could get to her skin. Somewhere in the back of my mind was a high school boy screaming about getting to second base with Violet Foster, but I ignored him. I wasn’t a high schooler anymore. Second base wasn’t going to be enough. Not with her. No way.

  But just as I wrapped my hand around her breast, as my thumb flicked her nipple and elicited the most amazing groan from her, as my hips jerked forward to press my cock against where I so wanted to explore, a horn sounded outside the truck. I jumped up in time to see a carload of kids race off across the lot, probably a group of teenagers out past curfew to take advantage of open ice at the rink. Probably not having seen a single thing through the tinted windows of my truck. Probably just having really bad timing. Interrupting bastards.

  “Shit.” I groaned, hanging my head so my forehead rested against Violet’s. My hips were still pressed in between her legs, my aching cock nestled snugly where he really wanted to be. Almost.

  “That’s what I was going to say.” Violet placed a single, soft kiss against my lips before she wriggled out from under me. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

  “Me neither.” I sat back and licked my bottom lip, trying to get enough blood back up to my brain to think clearly. “I’m not sorry about it, though. Well, maybe.”

  Those bright eyes narrowed. “Maybe?”

  “Not about kissing you,” I said, reaching to weave our fingers together. “I’m only sorry I haven’t at least taken you out on a date before I went and slid my hand up your shirt.”

  “You want to take me on a date?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  Her silence wasn’t quite the reaction I’d been hoping for, nor were her words. “We’re just friends, remember?”

  Shit. I’d forgotten about that. “Then it’s a friend date. Dinner with someone you like talking to.”

  “And who you like kissing?”

  “Friends kiss.”

  “Really?” Her eyebrow raise was nearly as perfect as my sister’s. “You kiss Colton lately?”

  Aw hell, but I could play this game as strong as she could. I leaned over her again, pressing her back into the door. Crowding her. “What happens in the garage stays in the garage.”

  Her laugh was more beautiful than anything I’d ever heard. Add in the fact that she had her hands on my arms and was pulling me closer as she laughed at something I’d said, and that moment would be one I’d probably never forget.

  When she quieted again, meeting my eyes in a tense sort of stare that did nothing to relieve the ache in my jeans, I pressed my lips to hers in one more kiss. A small one. A fucking perfect, intimate one. And when I pulled away from her again, when I had her relaxed and smiling and looking up at me like I was someone she felt something for, I went for it. “Say yes, Violet. Tomorrow…dinner.”

  She shrugged, but there was a smile tugging at her mouth. “Maybe.”

  “Just maybe?” I inched closer, pulling her against me once more. Ready to charm her any way I could. “I never take time off work, but I’ll do it for you. Don’t make your friend beg.”

  She laughed and kissed me, yanking on my hair to hold us together before finally whispering a quiet “Probably” against my lips. I grinned and kissed her back, dragging my tongue against hers and my hands up and down her back. Fuck, this woman was more than I’d ever dreamed. More than I could probably handle.

  But I was ready to try, even if being friends might kill me. “I’ll take probably for an answer.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EASTON

  “You’re insane.”

  I brushed past Brogan, shouldering him a little harder than he probably deserved. “It’s doable.”

  “With three guys here to pick up the slack while you play Sherlock Holmes on Rick’s engine, sure. When you said we needed to move some things around, I didn’t realize it was going to take a time turner. There’s no way you can meet that deadline.” He leaned against the side of the ancient Land Rover that had become my nemesis. It had also become my priority, as the owner had just cut my time to complete the job by three days.

  I was so screwed.

  “I can deal with the engine while you and Jude—”

  “Jude’s out for two days,” Brogan interrupted. “He’s heading to Lollapalooza, remember?”

  And suddenly, I felt like a chump. An overscheduled, forgetful chump. “Fuck, that’s right. And Charity’s coming into town, which means we lose Colton for the weekend.” I shook my head, facts and figures and hours and schedules racing through my mind. Not only would we lose him in the shop, we’d lose all contact. Colton was the king of disconnection. “When’s Colton leaving for up north again?”

  “Tomorrow, motherfucker. What’d you do now? Agree to fix the unfixable in some sort of superhuman time frame again?” Colton swaggered into the bay with Gracie, my younger sister and the best damn bookkeeper I could afford, at his side. Both looking far too pleased with themselves for my liking.

  “It’s not unfixable. Besides, if we didn’t take the job, the guy would just go to someone who would.” I didn’t need to tell them that everyone else had already turned Rick down. No sense digging my own grave any deeper.

  Gracie hopped up on the workbench. “Yeah, but that someone else would have given the guy a realistic time frame.”

  I waved her off. “It’s fine. I got the time to get this thing running.”

  “What about your new girl? Weren’t you talking about that mythical event you called a date?” Colton asked.

  I wilted on the spot, closing my eyes and clenching my hands into fists. Fuck and me. Violet. I’d just asked her out on a date for tonight, had promised I’d call her today to set it up after one hell of a goodnight kiss on the hood of her crappy car. I was going to have to break those plans. If this engine were going to be rebuilt in time, there’d be no dates for me this weekend. I couldn’t afford to take an entire evening off with Jude and Colton gone. “I’ll text her and let her know work is a little crazy right now. Maybe we can get together next week or something.” Even I heard the uncertainty in my voice, but the guys didn’t call me on it. Missing my date with Violet, not fulfilling my promise to her, didn’t sit well with me. None of this sat well with me. All because of my stupid mouth.

  “Good luck with that, big brother.” Gracie swung her legs and zeroed in on Colton. “So, Charity’s coming to town, huh? You and your little friend got any big plans?”

  His expression turned serious. “Sex. That’s what Charity and I do—we have sex.”

  “Well, aren’t you just boyfriend of the year.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend—we have an arrangement regarding her visiting and us having sex.
” He shrugged and crept closer to Gracie, who’d slid off the bench and stood glaring at him. “C’mon, beloved Gracelyn. Don’t tell me you’re the old ball-and-chain type. We both know you go through the men in this town fast enough to give me a run for my money.”

  The garage went still, the silence heavy. My feet stayed rooted to the floor as I tried to control the instinct to stomp that asshole into the ground. My mind attempting to balance the need to beat the ever-loving shit out of one of my best friends for talking trash about my sister and the desire to whack Gracie upside the head and tell her to keep her damn pants on. Or at least keep her mouth shut.

  Brogan ended up responding faster than I did.

  “What the fuck did you just say to her?” Brogan’s voice came out cold and even. Too even. The calmest, most reliable member of our crew didn’t get mad often, but when he did…well, that was something you wanted to avoid. And everyone in that room knew it.

  “It’s fine, Brogan. I’m not insulted,” Gracie said, waving him off. “Colton’s just jealous because, unlike him, I can actually convince a date to stick around for more than a single night.”

  Colton’s lips turned up in a sickeningly sweet sort of smile. “Oh, Gracie. One night’s all I need.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

  “Enough. Both of you. We’re supposed to be working.” Brogan flung a wrench onto the workbench before heading for the door at the back of the shop. The guy was obviously upset, not that I could blame him. Brogan had always been overprotective when it came to my little sister.

  The door leading outside slammed closed behind Brogan before Colton could utter a single response. “Guess we pissed him off.”

  I smacked him upside the head, unable to resist the urge. “Show the girl some fucking respect, Colton.”

  “Maybe we should go after him.” Gracie looked toward the door, something almost like guilt on her face.