“Guess what, Dad, the brakes aren’t working.” There’s a patch of gravel ahead of me.
“Seriously?” He hands his shades to Zach.
“Seriously. Get ready to catch.” I weave around the patch of gravel and make a large arc, turning back toward Brinn.
“Catch what?” he calls while walking toward me.
Goofball doesn’t think I’m serious.
“Catch me, dumbass.”
Timing is everything. I flip both legs to one side and force my skirt part open wider, knowing I’ve ripped it a few inches. I’d take it off if I could because I’m going to need mobility. I stand on the small running board, one foot in front of the other, distributing my weight so the scooter is balanced, before I bend over the dash, testing the brakes one last time with no success.
“Get ready, McRae.”
He steps closer, widens his stance, and opens his arms.
Fifteen miles per hour doesn’t seem all that fast until you’re speeding toward someone and planning to leap into their arms.
“I’m coming in hot,” I yell and can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. I’m within a breath of him, certain I’ve run his toes over, when I let go of the handles and spring from the footrest, arms wide.
Our bodies collide with a thud. He rocks back slightly while pulling me in tight, absorbing the impact. We stare at each other.
“I knew you’d catch me.”
He tosses back his head, laughing, but the sound of the scooter colliding with the hanger and the echo bouncing around the parking lot cuts the laughter short.
Somber, we look at each other.
I say to Zach, “I’m totally buying that scooter.”
And Brinn drops me on my ass and walks back to the office.
The voice memo from Jayne cracks me up.
“Fuck all, Josie, I nearly want to gouge my eyes out. Please, please, please meet me for food. My life is in your hands. If I continue with this inventory another moment, I can make no promises as to what will happen. I’m holding matches.”
I text her with the name of a restaurant and a plan to meet there in thirty minutes, then walk to Brinn’s office. “I’m headed out. Meeting Jayne for dinner.” I stand in the doorway of his office. He hasn’t looked at me all day, not after shouting some heated words about me buying Zach’s scooter.
“How you getting there?” His face is impassive as our eyes meet. My car, still in the shop, won’t be ready until tomorrow and he picked me up and brought me to work this morning. Jayne’s food invitation comes at a perfect time. Avoiding him is the right move. It’s time to start laying the foundation for my exit. His anger at today’s events is a clear indication that we’re getting too attached. My one simple goal is to exit from all this on a high note, leaving warm memories in my wake.
“I’m walking. It’s just down the street.”
“I’ll give you a lift.” He closes a file and straightens the folders on his desk.
“I can walk. You stay here and get caught up.” Because of being short staffed and our unexpected trip south, he’s even further behind on recruiting for a mechanic and a pilot, his Ph.D. application, and the books.
“I need a break from these books.” He stands then comes toward me.
I step away from the door, out of reach. He flicks off the light and gestures for me to lead the way.
“Avoiding the books seems to be going around.” I think of Jayne. “I can take on some of that for you.” I hope he sees it as the peace offering it is.
“I might do that actually. I seem to have lost the drive for some of this.” He gestures to the building, looks at me, and snaps his mouth closed. As if he forgot he’s mad at me.
I want to touch him, run my hand down his arm, and give him comfort of any sort. Lately, he’s become more disenchanted with the business and particularly in the runaround he’s been getting from Mark. But I also want to punch some sense into him and knock his bad mood right out of him. He has so much going for him yet only sees one thing.
Because I’m torn on which one he deserves the most, I do neither.
We walk out of the office in silence. Perhaps it the stress of the heavy quiet but I find my patience is thin. I’m not the sort to tiptoe around stuff. Not anymore. To do so rubs me, leaving me raw as if I’m covered in hives.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say.
He won’t look at me. His jaw is set. I imagine if I move closer I’ll hear his teeth grinding.
I’m the one who should be mad. Telling me what I can and can’t buy. “Did you hear me? I said, ‘thank you.’”
“I heard.” He sounds as if he’s pushing out the words between his teeth.
“Well you don’t have to be rude,” I mumble and reconsider kicking him in the shin.
I wait for Brinn to lock the hangar and to check and double check to make sure all the doors are secure. The evening is cool and behind the building, the fading sun waits to dip into the waters of the Atlantic. I stretch my arms over my head and entertain the idea of riding my bike to the beach for some exercise, once dinner is over. Brinn finishes his checking routine and gestures for me to lead the way to his truck.
An idea takes root.
He opens the passenger door of his truck and offers his hand to help me in. So sweet. Chivalry at its finest in this one. I make use of his hand because the lift helps and I know touching me makes him horny, even something this simple. He slams my door as I reach across the space to pull up the lock and push open the door for him.
He gets in with heavy movements and sighs. “Why do you even need the scooter?”
“I told you about the ports, and the scooter will be fun.”
“Until you’re dead on the road and then the fun will be over.” He puts a hand on the steering wheel and turns to me.
His worry is sweet, and looking at his face, with his concerned eyes, makes me hot for him. I scan the parking lot and buildings. The security lights are off and the area is void of cars except for his.
“Remember what I said about having some fun? Spontaneity and all that?”
“Yeah, but buying a scooter is not being spontaneous.”
“I’m not talking about the scooter.” I climb up on the seat, pull my skirt up to my thighs, the part opening to reveal my hip, and I step across, straddling his lap. I ease down, facing him, and tuck my skirt around us but have it raised high enough so that my panties are pressed against his jeans.
“Oh,” he says and wraps his hands around my waist.
“We have thirty minutes before Jayne will get to the restaurant. Knowing her, we really have forty-five.”
I work the buttons down his shirt while I press a soft kiss to his mouth. I flick my tongue out and lick his top lip before deepening the kiss and bringing my tongue to meet his.
He pulls me close; his hands come to rest cupping my rear, pushing me harder against his crotch.
“Have you ever had sex in a truck?” I ask when we break the kiss. Our faces are close so I whisper.
“Uh, yeah. Isn’t that where every high school kid has sex?” He laughs and I pull back to look at him.
“Is it? Feel like having sex in a truck again? I can take you back to your high school days.”