Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“No, you’re not.” I took a few bites of food to distract from the urge to beg him to touch me again. “Um…other tips. Let me think. Do you dance?”
“Here?” He glanced around the patio like I might make him dance to the piped-in coffeehouse blend of folk playing on low.
“No, at the wedding reception. They’re bringing in a DJ they know from college. So, undoubtedly a bunch of music popular with the younger crowd, but I’m sure everyone will hit the dance floor at some point.”
“I’m a passable dancer.” He attacked the last of his burrito. Watching him eat was fun because he made no pretense about enjoying his food. “I got through all three sibling weddings without falling on my face.”
“Good to know. I like to dance.” That devil on my shoulder was still very much in charge. We could be a convincing couple without dancing together. But I wanted another excuse to touch him in the worst way.
“We can dance.” He chuckled an indulgent laugh that made warmth spread across my chest.
“Good.” I smiled broadly. “And Hester’s a romantic. She’ll ask if we had a first date. We should have a story ready.”
“Well, of course.” He raised his eyebrows at me over the rim of his coffee cup. “Can’t exactly say we got takeout and spent the night in bed as a story for your family.”
Gulp. “I…that wouldn’t be a terrible date. Just saying.”
“I could do better,” he said archly, leaning back in his chair.
“Oh?”
“Tell Hester I took you rock crawling.”
I tried to remember what the term meant. Something outdoorsy undoubtedly, but my devil had to tease, “You sure that’s not something dirty? Like us crawling all over each other…”
“When I talk dirty, you’ll know it.” He gave me another of those five-hundred-degree looks that had me squirming against the wooden chair. “Rock crawling. It’s a deal with trucks or Jeeps at four-wheel-drive off-road tracks. Going up over obstacles instead of around them. Way I see it, we’d save the speed track for date two.” He grinned, leaning forward as his voice became even more enthusiastic. “Date one, you gotta see if you can work together. Be a team.”
“Oh. Like a ropes course.” I’d done a couple of those as team-building exercises with various crews from past shows.
“Ropes course is date three. And there you go, now we’re going steady.” Reaching across the table, he gave me a high five that left my hand tingling and my soul craving all these made-up dates for real.
“I love it.”
“I might have to take you rock crawling sometime anyway.” He moved so the waitress could clear our plates and drop off our check. “Taking you out to the desert would be fun as friends too.”
“I wouldn’t say no.” I’d be his friend if he wanted. Hell, I’d be a lot more too. And if he wanted to make our pretend dates real, I’d be all over that. I was undoubtedly setting myself up for disappointment, continuing my long pattern of crushing on unavailable guys, but being around Harley felt too good to not want everything he was willing to give.
Chapter Twelve
Ambrose
I was wrong. I’d thought watching Harley inspect my car was a sensual delight. But it was nothing compared to watching him drive the thing. After breakfast, he took a few turns around the parking lot to get a feel for the handling, and I was half-hard by the time we hit the highway.
Simply watching him palm the stick shift, the confident way he gripped it with the perfect amount of tension, was sexy. He changed gears so deftly that it was more like he was playing an instrument than the usual jolting from someone who hadn’t driven a stick in a while. This was a man who knew his way around a manual transmission for sure.
And oh my fucking God, the way his words kept echoing in my brain. I like to jerk off… A couple of hours later and that confession still had my skin heating. My body couldn’t decide which it wanted more—his hands all over me or the chance to watch him touch himself. Bet he’d be amazing at driving that stick too. However, he’d been sharing a process of self-discovery, not trying to seduce me, but my body didn’t seem to know the difference.
Add in the flirting at the café, and I burned brighter than a lighthouse beacon for this man. To distract myself from all that want, once we were back on the highway heading north toward the Bay Area, I asked him about learning to drive. His stories about his brothers and Dad were entertaining, but every time he touched the shifter, my eyes went right back to his hand.
“So there we were camping in Oregon, whole family up near Crater Lake, and Dale and Denny had the bright idea that I was gonna learn to back the trailer in right there on the fly.”