True to her word, about sixty seconds later, she came out the front door.
All those soft blond curls were up, leaving a few wispy pieces to hang down around her neck. Her light pink shirt nipped her waist and jeans hugged her curves in all the right places. She had a purse slung over her shoulder and a coat draped across one arm.
I’d seen her dressed up and made up. I’d seen her messy in the morning. I’d seen her in work clothes and date attire and goddamn, I liked her every which way. There was something about her. Something… different.
Oliver’s words from earlier came to mind—he’d said the same thing about the tea shop girl—but Sophie’s bright smile pushed that thought aside.
“Hey there, sugar. You look beautiful.”
She gave me the satisfaction of a slight blush. “Thank you. Sorry to make you wait, but I couldn’t find my left shoe.”
I wanted to kiss her, right here and now. In fact, the urge to step in, grab her by the waist, and kiss the hell out of her was so strong, I almost did it.
But I didn’t.
I paused.
Something told me not to come on too strong. Not yet anyway.
My instincts were usually spot on, so I listened. Gave her a smile and opened the passenger door. “Shall we?”
She smiled again and moved past me to get in my car. I leaned in a little to get a whiff of her hair. God, she smelled good.
I went around and got in, then turned on the car and pulled out onto the street.
“So, what are we doing?” she asked.
“Let’s get a quick bite to eat, but then I thought we’d do something a little different. I’m in the market for a new car. Not an everyday driver, mind you. Something fun. I figure we can take one for a test drive. I’d like to get my wife’s opinion before I buy.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t correct me for calling her my wife. “We’re going to test drive cars?”
“You sound skeptical.”
“It’s just not what I was expecting.”
“I said I wanted to do something a little different. Any guy can take you out for coffee or dinner.”
“Okay,” she said, like she still wasn’t too sure about my plan.
We grabbed an early dinner at a Greek place she suggested. I’d never been here, but the food was outstanding. We chatted while we ate, but she seemed guarded. Like she was keeping an invisible barrier between us, not letting me get too close.
I’d have to work on that.
After dinner, we headed across the I-90 bridge into Bellevue. I pulled into the McLaren dealership and parked.
Sophie stared out the window, wide-eyed. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.”
“Like I said. Fun.”
“Are you sure you’re not just showing off?”
I smirked at her. “Sugar, I don’t need to show off.”
I got out and opened her door. Took her hand while she stood, and a good thing because her foot nearly slipped out from under her. I steadied her with my other hand on her waist, and those soft curls brushed my cheek.
My hand moved to the small of her back and I led her inside. Bright lights shone down on stark white walls and a white tile floor. Several models were parked around the showroom, their shiny paint jobs sparkling.
A man in a sharp suit with slicked back hair was on hand to greet us.
“Johnathan?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.” He gave me a hearty handshake.
“My wife, Sophie.”
She made a little noise in her throat but reached out to shake Johnathan’s hand. “Hi.”
“Nice to meet you. Can I get you any refreshments?”
“Just a set of keys, my friend.”
“Is there a particular model you’re interested in? The 570GT is—”
“How about I save us both a little time and let you skip the sales pitch. I’ve been looking at the 720S coupe and I know all the specs. But my wife needs to get a feel for it before she’ll let me pull the trigger.”
“Fair enough, Mr. Cox. We already have all your information on file. I’ll be right back.” He turned and walked to the back.
“Are you really going to buy one of these?” Sophie asked, her voice almost a whisper.
“If you like it. I’m buying it for you.”
She laughed. “Yeah, right. What are you going to do with it after we get divorced?”
“Why worry about that now? I like to live in the moment.”
“They do say the present is a gift.”
I glanced down at her. Fuck, she was cute. “That it is, sugar.”
Johnathan came back with a key fob and led us out a set of side doors. The car was everything I wanted it to be. Deep blue with a sexy black interior. Sleek, aerodynamic lines. It looked like a million bucks and by some people’s estimation, it was a bargain with a sticker price of less than half that.
Fine, maybe I was showing off a little.
But I really had been looking at this car. And driving it with her in the passenger seat was going to be fun.
Johnathan handed me the key fob and took a few steps back. I ushered Sophie in through the gull wing door—they lifted up, instead of opening out. Such a hot car.
Sophie looked hot in it too.
I went around to the other side and got in, then shifted my weight around on the seat. Felt good.
“This thing is like a race car,” she said as the doors lowered. “I feel like I should be wearing a helmet and one of those jumpsuits.”
“Maybe we should get you one. I bet you’d look sexy as hell dressed up like a race car driver.”
She shook her head and laughed. “Are they really going to let you drive away in this?”
I started the engine and it didn’t just hum. It growled. “They know I’m good for it.”
Ever so gently, I backed us out of the parking spot. A man did not simply drive a supercar. A man had to coax it. Caress it. Make love to it from the driver’s seat and be respectful of its power.
I wanted to get out of the congestion of the city, so we headed east. I opened it up a bit on the freeway and damn, all that potential speed was tempting. Sophie’s eyes flicked to me a few times and I swore the look she was giving me said go faster.
We cruised down the freeway, getting past most of the suburban sprawl before exiting. I turned north on a two-lane highway that wound through a patchwork of farmland.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“You were right. It’s fun.”
“Told you.”
She smiled, and I sensed a little bit of her guardedness easing away.
That smile of hers tickled at something in my memory. I chased it down, trying to grasp the image before it fled behind a whiskey haze. Sophie in Vegas, wearing her purple dress. Smiling over a dish of—
“Creme brulée,” I said.
“What?”
“You love creme brulée. I just remembered. We had some in Vegas.”
“I do love creme brulée.” She paused. “That’s right. You asked me my favorite dessert and I said creme brulée. Then you had J.J. find a place that served it at whatever time that was.”
“J.J.?”
“He was the limo driver. He took me back to my hotel the morning after… you know.”