Slow Ride (27 page)

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Authors: Erin McCarthy

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

BOOK: Slow Ride
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She laughed. “Oh come on, I didn’t ask you if my ass looks fat. It was just the kind of question you’re supposed to agree with.”
“In that case, yes. I agree. And for the record, nothing could make your ass look fat. Your ass is perfect.”
“Why thank you.”
Then Diesel thought through what she’d been saying. So if all women wanted romantic even when they didn’t say it, what did that mean? “Wait. So you don’t want to see
The Exorcist
?”
She groaned, pulling her necklace out of her cleavage, where it had dipped. “No, I said it was cool. And it is. Don’t overthink it.”
It was a bit of a problem he had with her. Was it because he really wanted to make sure she was happy? Or was it because he was whipped? Either way, his friends were right—he needed to quit being such a wuss. She was the kind of woman who just said straight out whatever she was thinking, so there was no reason for him to sit there and try to interpret her words. They were exactly what they were.
Which meant he could relax. Just enjoy.
When they pulled into the drive-in, Tuesday read the marquee and gave a happy exclamation. “Okay, I changed my mind. They’re playing
Lady and the Tramp
, too. We so have to see that. We can catch
The Exorcist
next week.”
He liked that she was just assuming they would be spending the next weekend together as well. But he wasn’t thrilled about the idea of sitting through a cartoon.
“You don’t mind, do you?” She gave him a pleading look. “It’s just so sweet when they share that piece of pasta and wind up kissing. I haven’t seen it since I was a kid.”
Whipped. He totally was. He could not resist those eyes of hers. “Sure, of course.”
Forty-five minutes later, he was regretting his quick concession. He was so bored he was struggling to stay awake and the girl dog’s voice was the only thing preventing it. Every time she spoke it was like razors to his eardrums. He’d eaten an entire box of candy trying to give himself something to do other than groan in agony. Tuesday had been remarkably silent the entire time, which he took to mean was her being absorbed in childhood memories and joy.
Until she suddenly said, “This movie blows. Why did I like this as a kid?”
He had no answers for that.
“I mean, Lady is like the most annoying priss ever. She’s not innocent, she’s just dumb, and that’s not charming at all. Seriously, like what would Tramp even see in her? She has an old-lady voice on top of it all.”
Diesel laughed. “I agree with you on all points, sweetheart. I don’t know. Maybe it just seemed very Romeo and Juliet when you were a kid. Those stray dogs probably seemed exciting.”
“I remember being terrified by the rat at the end. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to live up to my expectations.”
“It’s meant for kids, not thirty-year-old women.”
“Does that make me jaded? Cynical?” She looked a little frightened of that possibility. But she still managed to interject, “And I’m not thirty yet.”
“You’re not jaded. Cynical. Or thirty. You’re a grown woman who knows that relationships don’t work that way.” People didn’t fall in love in a day. It took at least three weeks. He should know.
“What, that total opposites could actually work?” Tuesday tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I think sometimes opposites work out just fine.” They were verbal opposites. She talked nonstop and he didn’t. “I was thinking more about the fact that they decide to commit to each other and a litter of puppies when they don’t even know each other.”
“That’s true. Not to mention he’s patronizing.”
Since his candy was all gone, Diesel reached over and stuck his hand in her popcorn bucket. This was a perfect opportunity to tweak her. “I think he’s just being protective. She obviously needs a firm hand.”
“What?” She totally rose to the bait and shrieked at him, smacking his hand. “And get out of my popcorn! How could you even say that—”
He chewed and grinned at the same time.
“You’re an ass. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”
“Yep. Works every time.” Diesel hit the button to make his seat go back. “Now put your popcorn down and make out with me. That’s why people really come to the drive-in.”
“Good call.” Tuesday put the popcorn container in the backseat.
“Why are you putting it back there?”
“Because we get rowdy when we make out. You know I’ll end up kicking it if I leave it up here.”
“You’re always thinking, babe. That’s why I—”
Diesel cut himself off. Shit, he’d almost said love. That’s why he loved her.
“Why you what?” She looked at him expectantly, her eyebrows raised.
He coughed. “Sorry, I choked on the popcorn. What I was trying to say is that’s why I worship you.” He knew she would take that as humorous.
Which she did. “As well you should. I’m very worshipable.”
“Then get over here and let me at it.”
“Why do I always have to be the one to come to you?” she complained. “Isn’t that patronizing?”
He could argue or placate or he could just lean over into her space and kiss her, which is what he did. She was midrant still when his mouth covered hers. Her squawk of indignation dissolved into a sigh. Diesel loved the way she acquiesced to him, the way she just gave up her position and embraced the passion that always sparked between them. Her protests were just token gestures anyway, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Which was every minute of every damn day, it seemed like.
Sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, Diesel coaxed her to open up her mouth.
“Mm, have I told you I love your beard?” she murmured. “It’s soft. Sexy.”
“Everything about you is sexy.”
It was. God, he couldn’t get enough of her. Diesel took her mouth again in a searing kiss. What had started out as just the need for some casual drive-in making out turned into a deep, urgent need to taste her, touch her. Consume her.
Her reaction met his and her hands raked his hair, her body leaning forward, seeking contact with his. The buzz of the movie sound track was to his left, but it couldn’t distract him, not when his tongue was pushing into her mouth, and her hands were sliding down his chest, scraping along his pecs. He tugged at the bottom of her dress, wanting access to her smooth skin, and he was rewarded with a low moan in his ear.
Oh, yeah. He was going to score at the drive-in. A teenage ambition finally realized.
Until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
“Jesus.” He moved back from Tuesday, quickly removing his hand from under the dress.
“What? Where are you going? Get back here.”
Tuesday reached for him, but Diesel shook his head. “Look behind you, sweetheart.”
“Huh? What?” Tuesday turned and let out a startled shriek. “Holy crap, we have a Peeping Tom.”
There was a boy, about eight years old, standing outside their car, watching them with round, curious eyes, tearing a piece off of his licorice with his teeth.
“I guess we’re the show.” Diesel was amused. He could imagine he’d have done the same thing when he was that age. Little boys were curious.
“Okay, that’s just disturbing.” Tuesday glanced out the window again. “And he’s not leaving.”
The kid had backed up two feet, but he was still checking out Tuesday like he had seen an alien. A very appealing alien.
Diesel started laughing. “I think you’ve made a new friend.”
Tuesday unrolled her window. “Hi there. I hear your mother calling you. You’d better get back to her.”
That made him laugh even harder. “Seriously? Just leave the poor kid be.”
The boy turned and sauntered off in no particular hurry.
“What? He needed to go. That was creepy. He was watching us make out.”
“Well, we’re not making out anymore. So let’s get back to that.” He dropped his hand to her knee. They had just been getting to the good stuff.
“Absolutely not.” She picked his hand up and moved it to his own thigh.
He had no desire to be feeling up his own leg. “Why not?”
“I feel violated.”
“It was a kid! Who cares?”
“More like a future Green River Killer. Where’s my popcorn?” She reached into the back and recovered her box and started tossing pieces in her mouth, eyes trained on the movie screen.
His amusement evaporated. Not only was he not getting any he was going to have to sit through the rest of the cartoon. The characters were singing something warbly and off key, and while probably entertaining for a six-year-old, Diesel was thinking he’d prefer a kick in the nuts to another hour of this.
“My suggestion of just skipping the movie was a good one,” he told her. “I wish you’d listened to me.”
She ignored that. “You know, this woman in the pound is who Tramp should have hooked up with. They have more in common. And really, Lady is just a puppy in comparison. Long-term she’s not going to be able to hold Tramp’s interest.”
Why was he supposed to care? He needed more candy. It wasn’t a replacement for sex with Tuesday, but it would keep his mouth busy.
Tuesday was keeping her mouth busy with running it.
“I mean, what is this obsession men have with innocence? They think they want it, then they get bored with it.”
They did? “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he told her in all honesty.
She turned to him. “What attracted you to me?”
Oh, damn. This was a bear trap waiting to snap. “It wasn’t your innocence,” he assured her.
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not an answer.”
What did she want him to say? He cared about her, he was attracted to her on a whole lot of different levels? But an open-ended question like that was overwhelming and he didn’t want to risk pissing her off. “I feel like there’s a right answer and a wrong answer here and I’m going to get reamed if I misstep.”
She looked so astonished that for a second she didn’t speak—always amazing when it came to the woman he loved.
“Really? Is that true? That a lot of times men don’t say anything because they’re afraid of saying the wrong thing?”
“Um. Yeah.” Where the hell had she been? “It’s like women have formed the answer they’re looking for in their head and we can never match it.”
“Interesting. So if I promise not to get mad at you, no matter what, how would you answer the question of what attracted you to me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, I don’t think you can guarantee you won’t get mad. You’re a bit of a hothead.”
“What? I am not.”
“See your voice raised right there.” It was tempting to laugh, but he held it back. The grin he couldn’t contain.
She pulled a face. “God, I hate it when you’re right.”
“Then you must be hating all the time.” Diesel reached over and touched her cheek. “No, in all seriousness, I was attracted to your smile, your laughter. You looked like you were having fun. And of course you’re beautiful. Gorgeous.”
He wanted to tell her more, and he searched for the right words. He’d never been particularly good at expressing his feelings.
“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate it. The wrong answer would be saying that you were attracted to me because I looked like an easy lay. Anything else I’m going to take as a compliment, so don’t be afraid to flatter me.”
That sounded like the Tuesday he had come to know and love. He wanted to get closer to the truth of his emotions, put something out there, and pull her a little closer to him if that was at all possible. “I’m attracted to you now for all those same reasons. But also now I know that you’re smart, generous, loyal, and big-hearted. I think you’re an amazing woman and I want to be with you, only you. I don’t want either of us to be seeing other people. Just you and me.”
There it was. Out there and he couldn’t take it back.
But you never got what you wanted unless you asked for it.
Maybe he was too boring for her, maybe she would lose interest in him, but between now and then he would like to enjoy it knowing she was with him, and only him.
Tuesday clutched her popcorn and stared at Diesel. She knew she should say something, but she was stunned speechless. She hadn’t turned the conversation in this direction because she’d been fishing for compliments. It had really just been her natural curiosity as she’d been watching the movie to ponder what drew people to each other. She had just wondered what had drawn him to her because truthfully, they were almost as much of opposites in temperament as Lady and Tramp were in personality. Tuesday was verbal and easily agitated, Diesel was neither. She dealt with her emotions poorly, he didn’t deal with his at all. She liked to dance and talk and laugh and be the life of the party whereas Diesel liked to be an observer. He sought his thrills quietly, with a firm hand, in the bedroom and elsewhere.

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