Her upbringing must have forced her to be polite because she didn’t mention the change of subject. Instead, she looked out the window at the mellow street with a stiff smile. “O—kay,” she said before turning to lock eyes with him. “I understand if you don’t want to talk shop. All you have to do is tell me to mind my own business, and I will.”
“Sorry. Just not used to sharing that kind of stuff.”
She shrugged it off. “So, tell me, where is the Nostalgic, and what kind of establishment is it exactly?” She scooped up the remaining cookies on the platter to wrap them in a paper napkin.
He took a step toward the exit. “It’s about ten minutes away, on the other side of the lake, and it’s a surprise.” He smiled and pointed at the wrapped cookies in her hand. “That’s something my grandmother would do.”
She joined him and they walked together to the door. “That’s not far from here—what?” She looked down at the makeshift package. “Oh, this. I like your grandmother then. Is that the Grandma Bertie you mentioned earlier?”
He nodded.
“A sensible women with a sweet tooth is a great combo.” She tucked the wrapped cookies into her purse and tapped a manicured fingernail against her bottom lip. “I love surprises. Let me guess. Is it an antiques shop?” She stepped with him through the open doorway onto the street. “Are we going to dress up like characters from your book or get our vintage photos taken?” She snapped her manicured fingers. “I know. I’ll be the saloon girl and you can be the card shark.”
He joined her, surprised at how fast his mood bounced back when he was with her. “Good try, but no. It’s a drive-in theatre. Did anyone ever tell you that you have a great imagination?”
She laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
He watched as a pair of tourists approached the café, Ivy League guys in button-down shirts, khakis, and Sperry boat shoes. They smiled wide at Elizabeth and ignored him.
Jeremy placed his hand on the small of her back, focusing on her. “You’re kind of funny, too.”
She looked up, brows furrowed. “Oh, I was talking about the outdoor movie theatre. That’s a cool concept. I’ve only seen drive-ins in the movies.” She glanced around Main Street. “So, would you like to drive or do you want me to?”
He glanced at his vehicle parked across the street and his chest constricted. He could have borrowed one of Ben’s cars for the evening but he wasn’t about to sugarcoat his life. He may not be ready to tell her all the dirty details, but he needed to know her caliber. Either she accepted him as he was or she left. He was better off knowing sooner than later.
“Is that one yours?” She pointed to a pimped-out Harley.
He shook his head. “Used to have one like that, but totaled it a while back.” He fingered the coins in his pocket. “Besides, what kind of fool would drive a bike to a drive-in?”
“Good point.” She shrugged. “So which one is it?”
He nodded at the vehicle behind the Harley, a manual transmission Ford F-150, sections rusted out from two decades of Adirondack winters. “That’s mine.” He watched expressions flit across her face.
“It runs?” There was surprise in her voice, but she didn’t pull away. In fact, if anything, she seemed to lean a bit closer.
He nodded and checked Main Street traffic both ways. “Most of the time.”
“I’m impressed. How does it handle in the snow?”
He walked across the street, his hand still guiding her. “It doesn’t. Rear-wheel drive. But I don’t drive much in the winter, and when I do temp work, I always ride along in the company vans.” He shrugged. “There’s never been a need.”
“Frugal.” She patted her purse filled with cookies. “Just like Grandma Bertie. Like it. We can take mine if you want.” She indicated the sleek black Audi SUV parked across the street.
“Nice wheels.”
“Thanks. I wanted something reliable, good in the snow. I’d be happy to let you drive mine—you know the roads better than me. That is, if you’re concerned about the truck.” She fished around in her purse and held out the keys.
He shook his head with a smile. The woman may be smart and funny, but it was obvious she’d never made out in a car. He shook his head again. “Thanks, but I think we’ll enjoy our evening more in my truck.”
She looked up at him, head tilted to one side. “I’m fine with it, but how so?”
She was too adorable for words. “Let me show you.” He took her by the hand and pointed into the truck’s cab. “See?”
She peered at the wide bench seat. “Awww. I like the way you think.” She leaned back and looked up at him with a hopeful smile. “Snuggling will be a lot easier in your vehicle than mine.” She dropped her car keys back into her purse, opened the truck door and climbed in before he had a chance to process her last words. The passenger window squeaked as she rolled it down. “You coming?”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. He jogged around to the driver’s side and hopped in. “She may not be the fanciest, but I promise you won’t regret it.” He revved up the engine, eager to show her the night of her life, Starling style.
Chapter Six
‡
Elizabeth sank onto the worn leather of the old truck and inhaled the fresh soap and mint scent that was Jeremy. Could there possibly be a better way to spend a Sunday night? She was a Country music fan, had seen plenty of old trucks in music videos, and on the Adirondack roads. But this was the first time in her life she’d been asked to ride somewhere in one.
She glanced sideways at the man sitting next to her, lean and handsome. Her fingers itched to run through those dark-blond strands of hair and scrape across his scruff. She could wait. He’d said the drive-in was only ten minutes away.
He steered the truck with ease through the Starling’s light, weekend traffic where storefronts crowded together, increasing speed as commercial buildings gave way to velvet green yards and clapboard houses set back from the street to tree-lined winding back roads around the pristine lake. She asked questions about the different sights and he gave her a local’s perspective, sharing the history of the area and explaining how most of the town—including his grandfathers and uncles, father, brother, and sister-in-law—depended on the mining refinery for their living.
She held her breath as they passed the refinery entrance. Her grandfather had taken her there once as a child, given her a brief tour. She remembered the dust and the noise. When she’d asked Gramps why someone would work in a place like that, he’d assured her conditions were safe and the men were paid well. She glanced at Jeremy, unable to imagine him in that kind of job. “It must have taken courage to break out of the mold.”
His brilliant blue eyes met hers. “I worked there too, for a few years.”
“Until your writing took over?”
“Something like that.”
She pushed forward, suddenly needing assurance that her family’s wealth wasn’t still made on the back-breaking labor of others. “Did you like working there? Or does your family?”
“The refinery is a lot better than the mines.” He paused. “One of my great-uncles, my grandfather’s brother, was injured while working underground, spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair.”
She cupped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
“It happened before I was born. He had a wife and two kids. Lots of rehab and changes they had to make to the house on account of his condition. They struggled, living off what little money the government gave them for disability. It sucked. Big time. Our family isn’t the suing kind, but there’s the principle of the thing. To make matters worse, my great uncle’s case was dragged through the courts for years before the owners finally settled.” He swiped a hand across his chin. “I swore I’d never work for a place that didn’t give two sh—, didn’t take care of its employees, but there weren’t a whole lot of other opportunities for screw-ups like me in a town the size of Starling.” He shrugged. “At le
ast by the time I was hired the pay was decent.”
“I’m sorry.” She could barely get the words past the lump in her throat. What would he think of her if he knew the truth?
“Hey.” He chucked her gently under the chin with an index finger. “It’s not your fault.” He turned his attention back to the road. “Well, here we are.”
Her thoughts of confessing stalled as the truck slowed and they turned onto a picturesque, dirt road with pretty blue and white wildflowers dotting the field. She looked ahead at The Nostalgic carved into a wooden archway over the road announcing the name of the drive-in. “Oh my. I feel like we’ve stepped back in time. It’s amazing the place is still here.”
He stopped behind a short line of cars leading up to the pay booth. “Oh, Starling Theater was shut down for years before a guy from western New York bought it last year. Lucky for us, it opened last month.”
The cars ahead of them moved, allowing them to inch forward. He gave her a heart-melting smile. “You ready?”
She sucked in a breath, her heart racing. Was he asking her about more than a movie? Either way, she was ready. It was almost as if she’d been waiting for this man her entire life. She nodded. “You?”
He muttered something under his breath.
“Hmm?”
He turned and gazed at her with desire in his eyes.
Her heart squeezed and a shiver of awareness zipped through her. So, his mind was in the gutter, too? She liked that about him. No pretense. No tiptoeing around her family name. If all went well between them, this could be the last first date of her life. She shook her head. The poor guy would run to the other side of Starling Mountain if he knew what she was thinking. Love at first sight may be a real prospect to her, but not to most people, and especially not to a guy like him. He wore his bachelor status like a shield.
Fifteen minutes later, they were parked before a gigantic screen, watching the opening credits to Gross Pointe Blank. The opening soundtrack played on his truck’s radio.
She looked at the man next to her, wondering if he’d make the first move or if she’d have to…a third time. “This is so fun. I adore John Cusack movies, always off-beat. You know, always about the guy that dares to be himself.” She folded her hands over her pencil skirt. “I especially like that one where he’s the underachieving, kick-boxer dating the valedictorian in his senior class. They’re total opposites in so many ways, but they completely gel. What’s the name of that movie?”
He just gazed at her, amused.
“Oh, yeah. Say Anything. That’s it. I love that movie. You?” She was rambling but she couldn’t help it. All she could think about was that they were finally alone. “He’s determined to be a man, not a guy. You know?”
He reached across the space separating them and put a finger over her lips. “Why don’t you take off your seatbelt and move closer?”
“This is better,” she commented, sliding onto the middle of the seat, trying to think of what to say, anything to lighten the sexual tension zinging in the air between them. But there was no helping it. She was at a loss for coherent words, her breath coming fast and her heart racing.
He leaned close, his mint breath caressing her cheek. “I’m the one who got lucky.”
“Aww. Thanks.” She slid her hand into his larger, rough one, and stared as his fingers curled gently around hers. “You’re pretty sweet for a guy with tats and a leather jacket.” She felt him shift toward her, primal heat of his body overtaking her senses.
Maybe he was too much for a woman like her.
“Is that a turn off?” His voice rasped. “A bad boy who’s a softie inside?”
She turned to look into his sapphire eyes.
Breathe. Breathe. “Quite the opposite.”
His lips hovered near hers. “Bad boys don’t settle down and have kids. They don’t work nine-to-five jobs or climb the corporate ladder.”
“Is that a warning?”
“Fact.” He brushed his lips against hers, teasing. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t show you a great time, treat you right.”
She swallowed. “Sounds reasonable. I don’t have plans to leave the Adirondacks any time soon.” There would be plenty of opportunities ahead to change his mind.
His fingers threaded through her hair, settling on the back of her head, pulling her toward him.
She forgot any worries about their different outlooks.
A few mind-drugging kisses later, a car door opened nearby. Children’s laughter and shouts had them pulling apart.
She smoothed her mussed hair and moved to rearrange her skirt that had hitched up around her upper thighs.
He placed his hand over hers. “Don’t worry. No one can see what’s going on in here below window-level unless they stand right next to the truck, and that’s not going to happen.”
She peered out the steamed windows, his truck flanked by cars. She relaxed back into his embrace, stifling a yawn. She could count on one hand how many hours of sleep she’d had last night.
“We’re missing the movie.” He swept a hand lightly over her thigh high stockings, fingers tracing the edging between the material and her bare thigh.
She squirmed and tried to concentrate. “I love John Cusack, but to be honest, I’m far more fascinated by you.” She turned in his arms, pushing away her exhaustion by running her hands under his tee. He was all hard angles and muscle like she remembered from their first brief encounter, but this time she noticed something else. Ridges. She lifted the fabric and peered at his abdomen in the movie screen’s reflected light and sucked in a breath. “Oh, my god. What’s that?”
“Scars.”
“I see, but wow, that’s massive on your left side.” He stiffened beneath her fingers.
“I was in an accident.” His voice was flat. “Motorcycle.” He turned to stare out the driver’s side window.
She lifted her gaze and traced a faint scar on his brow. “Is that from the accident, too?”
He nodded, closing his eyes as she dropped her hand.
She didn’t want to upset him, but for some reason, she knew the scars were part of the key to understanding him, getting past the walls he’d built around him. “How long ago?”
“About six years.” He shifted in his seat and sighed.
“Want to talk about it?” She touched his face again, turning it so he’d look at her.
His jaw was set and eyes shuttered. He pulled down his tee and grasped her hands in his, bringing them over her head, their fingers brushing the cab’s ceiling. “No. I want to forget it.”
He leaned forward and kissed her on the sensitive spot on her shoulder he’d found that first night on the beach that drove her absolutely wild with want the moment he grazed his teeth along her skin.
“Oh,” she breathed.
He was trying to change the subject, and it was working. They could talk later. He released her hands and she wound them around his neck, pulling him closer. She needed…more. She couldn’t seem to control her desire for him. What had come over her? She had always been all about control, prided herself on the trait. But tonight, all she wanted to do was soothe the pain lurking beneath that tough exterior.
It wasn’t about her wants, but about his need.
He slid his lips against hers. “Don’t ask, and I won’t have to lie.”
“I can’t keep my hands off you.” Maybe it was about her needs, too.
“Then don’t,” he urged.
“Have you ever had a woman do this?” She asked, letting her hand wander.
“I told you, enough of the past.” His voice was gruff, impatient. “I just want to be right here, right now, with you.” He reached out and brushed back the hair that had fallen over her eyes. “That’s enough for me…for now.” He brushed his lips across the top of her head and slid his arm around her shoulders to nestle her close, his eyes on the screen.
She blinked away her surprise. Amazing. Absolutely amazing. The bad boy liked to cuddle. She smiled to
herself and snuggled closer.
*
Jeremy struggled to think straight, in spite of the beautiful woman with her head nestled against his chest. She had no idea how sexy she was, curled against him, trusting as a kitten. All polish and class without the hardness. She was nothing like Ashleigh.
Thoughts of his ex-girlfriend brought the familiar clench in his abdomen.
She shifted in his arms and her chocolate eyes gazed up at him. “You alright?” Her voice was soft, concerned.
No, she was nothing at all like his ex.
He exhaled. “I’m good.” His eyes slid down her body. Man, she was a sight for sore eyes. All drowsy and sweet. All he had to do was lean forward a few inches and take her mouth, right there, and she’d be his. He just knew it. She was hot for him, had said as much. He could do as he wanted and she’d be happy. But she was worth more than a hook up in his truck. He didn’t want regrets. The end with her would come soon enough. He wanted to enjoy tonight, be with another human if just for a little while. Something about this woman made him crave slow and loving instead of his usual fast and furious. “C’mon. Let’s watch what’s left of the movie.” He held out a hand.
The silky warmth of her palm in his large, roughened one rocked him to the core. He shifted and another zip of awareness shot through him, his leg touching hers from hip to knee, separated only by his jeans and her skirt. So much for being the tough guy. He knew all about takers. He didn’t want to be one when she wasn’t.
She moved against him, her eyes drooping but fixed on the screen once more.
He leaned back against the head rest and soon was caught up in the story of a hit man returning home for his high school reunion. Before he knew it, intermission arrived.
Her eyes were closed, posture relaxed, and breathing slow.
A laugh escaped him as he nudged her gently.
She stirred, her eyes snapping open.
“Should I be insulted?”
She yawned. “Oh no, I’ve never done that before. It must be all the late nights, you know, between the new store and the online one.” She covered her eyes with a hand. “I’m mortified.”
His Kiss (Summer in New York Book 2) Page 6
