Test Drive (37 page)

* * *

When Lara woke, it was to a sunny day and the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing. She sat up, feeling achy despite only getting punched in the face. As the events from the previous day unfolded, she got up, stretched a little, and found she felt fine—except for her throbbing cheekbone.

“Shit, I’m late.” Hustling into sweats and a T-shirt she’d change out of at the hospital, she grabbed a set of scrubs and raced into the living room, then stopped short.

Lou Cortez held a bouquet of flowers in his hand and was gesturing to Johnny, who stood stonily and shook his head.

The pair must have sensed her, because they both turned.

She gasped. “What happened to you?” she asked Lou.

He sported a black eye and a displeased expression. “I ran into a door.”

“Um, okay.” She took the flowers he handed her.

He looked her over, then grunted and turned to Johnny. “We square?”

“Yeah.”

Lou left her with more questions than answers.

“Really?” Johnny shook his head. “I might have believed you and Foley having a thing, but not you and Lou.”

She flushed. “Not my idea. Del thought that if you saw me with another guy, you’d get jealous.”

“No shit.”

She didn’t know what to say.

“Lara, I know you went through a lot yesterday, and you might not remember me saying this, but I fucking love you.” The exact same words he’d said the first time they’d truly made love.

She blinked so as not to cry, but the jerk saw it. “I’m not crying because of you.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t run far away because I thought I had nothing to give you but a good time.”

“You really thought that?”

“I’m really that much of a dumbass. So I’ve been told by everyone over and over and over again. So please, don’t feel the need to hold back.”

“You’re a dumbass.”

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can you forgive me for bailing? I mean, if you can’t, I get it. But this time I’m not going away. I’ll just keep annoying you until you finally give in and forgive me.” He walked to her and stopped, then caressed her cheek with a finger. The Johnny move. The one she couldn’t ignore.

“I don’t know why I love you.”

His smile turned him from handsome into earth-shatteringly beautiful. “Maybe it’s because you’re so smart you’re scary. Because you know if anyone’s obsessed with you it’s me. Or maybe you like nursing so much you need a wounded soul in your life. Or maybe—”

“I just have great taste,” she finished for him and did what she’d been wanting to do—she kissed him.

When they finally parted, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her once more. “I love you so damn much.” The joy in his eyes made his love plain to see.

“That’s a quarter for the swear jar.”

“Fuck it. Let’s make it a solid damn dollar for my shitty treatment of the most beautiful, smartest, funniest woman in the world.”

“Well, if you put it like that…” She kissed him again, but before they turned hot and heavy, he stopped her.

“A few things.”

“Really?” She gripped the solid evidence of his arousal, and he hissed. “You want to talk now?”

“Really.” He sounded strangled. “First, you’re not going to school today. I called Kelly from your class—she’s on your cell phone—and explained. You’re covered for the week.”

“But—”

“
No.
” Forceful Johnny had returned, and she shivered in his arms. “Second, we need to get you to the police station so you can make a statement.”

A good thing Ron had already settled with Kristin in one lump-sum payment. Being rich had its perks. Especially when it came to expediting the legal process.

“Okay.”

“I’m not done,” he said when she groped him again. His breathing grew faster. “Third, I want you to move in with me.”

She froze.

“I know this is soon, but, honey, I love you. I don’t want to smother you or anything, but your security sucks. I broke down your door in two seconds.”

“Because you’re a brute.”

He smiled. “Gee, thanks.”

“Well, maybe. After Ron, I admit the place is kind of tainted.”

“Look at it this way. I need more help than you do. I can’t cook worth a damn.”

She studied him, seeing what she’d missed earlier. “Aw, Johnny. You lost weight. You were mourning me, weren’t you?” Delighted at the thought of his misery, because, well, he’d earned it, she smiled, then laughed when he blushed. “And you’re turning red. So cute.”

“You can be so mean sometimes.” He sighed. “That’s another reason why I love you. Do you know Jenna called to see if I’d come to my senses and snapped you up? My father is on my ass to stop being stupid and hold on to you. Lou—even after I punched him in the face for pretending to act like you and he had a thing—actually said you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Lou said that? Wow. That’s surprising. Del had to twist his arm to agree to this stupid stunt—according to Lou. I thought he hated me.”

“Nah. He’s just protective.” Johnny’s eyes blurred, and she couldn’t tell if it was because of her tears or his. “He’s family. My extended, loud-mouthed Webster-centered family thinks I’m a sucky human being without you.” He wiped her eyes, then his. “Lara, I’m not perfect.” Before she could say
no shit
, he muzzled her with his hand. “My head is messed up about stuff, but for you, I’ll get help. And I won’t run the next time I have a problem.”

She kissed his hand, and when he removed it, she kissed those sweet lips, telling him everything would be all right. “I love you too, baby.”

He moaned. “I love when you call me
baby
.”

She smiled. “I know. I can feel how much you love it.” She rubbed against him. “So if we could hurry up and get done all the mushy stuff, I’ll move in with you.”

“Great.”

“But I’ll pay rent.”

“You cook and do laundry, we’ll call it even.”

She opened her mouth to argue, thought the better of it, then nodded. “Okay. That will help with my college fund. And don’t even think about offering to help me pay for it,” she threatened. She still didn’t know if she’d gotten that scholarship or not, but not having to pay rent would be a huge load off her financial shoulders.

“Fine. But once we’re engaged, you know, when you finally get that bug out of your ass about needing to be with some rich guy in Upper Queen Anne, can I help you pay for things then?”

She gaped like a fish, not sure if she’d received a marriage proposal or not. “But, I, um…”

“I know I’m hot, so looks and a big dick aren’t the problem.”

She closed her eyes, feeling flush, then opened them, unable to look away from his shining gaze for long.

“Sweetheart, I love you. I want to marry you, warts and all.” He kissed her tenderly.

“Wait a minute. Who has warts?”

“I meant me. I’m a frog who’s never going to turn into a prince.”

“But you’re my frog.” She kissed him again and moaned when he cupped her breasts and flicked her nipples. “And you have a really big dick.”

He smiled against her lips. “Don’t forget the sexy tattoo and dominant personality in bed. You know, the stuff that gets you all wet for me.”

“Oh God. Would you stop sweet-talking me? Okay, I’ll marry you.”

“You will?”

She snickered. “That’s what you were asking, isn’t it?”

“I, ah, yeah. But I thought you’d make me wait.”

His surprised pleasure grounded her despite her skyrocketing arousal. “Oh, we’ll wait. I want a long engagement, and some therapy for you and me, together. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll wear that nurse uniform for you for your birthday.”

He gave her a smug grin. “That’s in another week.”

“Yeah, well you missed mine, baby. So I figure you owe me first.”

He took off her shirt and stripped her down to her panties. “How about we let you feel my mighty hot rod between your legs and see how you feel?”

She moaned when he slid two fingers inside her and stroked. “Only if it’s a one-way trip to funville.”

“For you, baby, anything. Anything at all.”

Chapter 22

Two weeks until Christmas, and Foley glared at Johnny, who’d taken to fucking singing Christmas carols during the day. Ass was all in love and grooving to his own tunes now that Lara had taken pity on him. A fine woman like that and Johnny Devlin. Maybe hell
had
frozen over.

“Hey, Foley, did you take my quarter-inch ratchet?” Sam yelled.

“Huh?”

“Dude, my quarter-inch air ratchet. I can’t find it.”

Foley glanced at Sam’s toolbox and cringed at the abundant disorganization. “I’m surprised you can find your toolbox under that grime.”

Sam studied his station. “What?”

“Nothing.” Poor bastard had been living in clutter since he was a kid, and despite Foley and Foley’s mom’s best attempts to organize him, Sam refused to cooperate. “Check the counter over there.” Where he’d last seen Sam messing around with a part.

“Oh, right.”

Foley nodded, content with his place in the grand scheme of things. He watched over the garage when Liam or Del weren’t around, like this afternoon. Lou often had painting assignments and hung out at Heller’s Paint Shop lately, though they’d managed to snag him for the shit work this week. His turn, after all. Plus, the guy could always be counted on for a good time at Ray’s.

Now that Sue had finally forgiven Foley for, gee, adhering to the rules
they’d both
set for themselves before fooling around, he figured Ray’s was a safe enough place to hang out this weekend. Truth be told, he was tired of pulling security at Strutts. The strip club had been fun, but he didn’t want an easy blow job with no strings attached anymore.

Watching Johnny find happiness had woken something inside him. It gave him hope that maybe, someday, he and Sam might find the same with their own women. But Foley wouldn’t get it from some chick accepting dollar bills while she slid down a pole. And he sure the hell wouldn’t get it in here, a garage filled with testosterone, bad singing—he glared at Johnny—and friggin’ Bob Dylan on the radio. He loathed folk music.

He needed to find a nice woman, someone like Lara. A chick who wouldn’t take his shit, but would look at him the way Lara looked at Johnny, like he hung the stars and the moon. A sincere, pretty woman with—

“Who the hell is in charge in here?”

He glanced up. The body accompanying the husky voice seething with rage belonged to a virtual Amazon. Tall, long-legged, curvy, and with a face men would die for. She had wine-red hair curling over amazing breasts—mounds that were high, firm, and, just the way he liked them—
big
.

He glanced at his hands. He glanced at her breasts, then back at his hands again, itching to cup her.

“You. Foley Sanders, right?” She took a step in his direction, and he had to check his mouth for drool.

“That’s me.”
She knows my name. Thank you, God, for whatever I did to deserve this.
“What can I do to you—
for
you?” he amended, but not quickly enough.

Sam appeared next to him, and out of the corner of his eye, Foley saw Sam’s interest as his buddy didn’t even try to disguise eye-fucking the woman.

“Dibs,” Foley called under his breath.

“Well, shit.” Sam turned and went back to looking for his air ratchet.

A storm brewed in the deep brown of the Amazon’s eyes. “Hey, Sanders, my eyes are up here.” She pointed to her face with long, fire-engine-red nails, her body clad in a close-fitting black dress that clung to her voluptuous frame.

Damn, Foley felt hot. To his chagrin, he started to get hard. Good thing he wore coveralls.

“Sorry. Got distracted.” He’d rolled his coveralls down earlier and wore them around his waist, his T-shirt covering his overheating torso. He wiped his forehead with his forearm, since his hands were covered with grease, and saw her narrowed eyes follow the movement, lingering on his biceps.
Probably not used to seeing guys with guns this big covered in tats. Come on, baby, look all you want. Touch, even.

But she stopped looking, and she didn’t touch. Instead, she threatened to tow the overflow of cars from her lot. Cars that belonged to Webster’s Garage—something Dale had supposedly worked out with the owners of the shop a few doors down.

“Liam and Del told me if I had problems to get with you.” The Websters had both taken an early Christmas vacation—leaving Foley in charge. “But after four phone calls and now this useless face-to-face, I can see I’m going to have to contact a towing service instead.”

Before Foley could promise to make things right, she tore out the door on black high heels that shaped her muscular calves.

“
Bruja
,” Lou said from the far doorway, fanning himself. “Those legs make a man think of what they’d look like wrapped around him in the dark.”

“Fuck the dark. I’d want the light on when I’m deep inside her,” Foley said, blunt honesty always his policy. “And you’re damn right she’s a witch.
My
witch.”

“He called dibs,” Sam said.

Johnny agreed. “He did.”

“Well, damn. She’s a bit too forceful for my tastes anyway.” Lou shrugged. “Good luck with that woman, Foley. You’re going to need it just to get a smile out of her.”

Johnny snickered. “She didn’t seem to like you much.”

“After your near fuckup with Lara, seems to me you shouldn’t be talking much, Devlin.”

Johnny just kept laughing.

Foley shouted for Dale, the one responsible for this parking mess, all the while wondering just who he’d have to kill to get that redheaded hellion’s number. And how deep he’d have to bury the body.

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Roadside Assistance

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Roadside Assistance

Foley Sanders stared at the door, where minutes ago one sexy, pissed off woman had stalked out of the garage. She’d worked the hell out of those black heels. Talk about a fine pair of legs. God love him—
a redhead
. The woman had wine-red hair so dark it looked almost brown. And that body… She had curves, a lot of them. And height.