Page 74 of How to Be a Rockstar's Girlfriend

“At least you realize I play the guitar.”

Her eyes twinkle. “Well, you definitely don’t sing.”

I lower my voice. “What’s wrong with my voice?” Her eyes flare and I step closer. “You don’t enjoy the sound of my voice? You don’t enjoy it when I whisper naughty words into your ear while I’m buried deep inside you?” Her breath hitches and I reach for her.

“Ahem!” Basil clears his voice as he slides past us. “I’m taking a break for lunch.” He winks at me. “A long lunch.”

“Now, where were we?” I ask once the door shuts behind him.

Mercy shuffles away from me. “I was wondering what you’re doing here since you agreed to give me space until I make a decision about us.”

Damn. No sexy times on top of the hood of the car Mercy’s working on. My cock protests.

“I have a surprise for you.” And I missed you.

She motions to my crotch. “I hope that’s not my surprise.”

I smirk. “It’s a bonus.”

She blows out a breath. “I’m serious, Gibson. What are you doing here?”

“And I’m serious. I have a surprise.”

“A real surprise? Not the one-eyed snake in your pants?”

I chuckle. “A real surprise.”

“Where is it?”

I hold out my hand. “Let me show you.”

Relief fills my chest when she doesn’t hesitate to take my hand. The second we touch, sparks fly from her skin to mine. Yep. This woman is meant for me.

I lead her out of the garage to the driveway where her surprise is parked.

She gasps and tugs out of my hold to run to the car. “Is this a 1965 Ford Mustang Shelby GT350?”

She doesn’t wait for my answer before continuing. “Where did you get it? There were less than six-hundred of these built. How did you find it? Did you buy it? Does she drive?”

I dangle the keys in front of her face. “I drove it over here.”

She snatches the keys from me and rushes to the driver’s door. When I don’t move, she motions to the passenger seat. “Get in. This is the surprise, right? I get to drive an original Shelby?”

I shove my hands in my pockets. “Um, actually…”

Her eyes narrow. “You better not have bought this car for me.”

“I didn’t.” I wouldn’t dare buy her a car worth half a million dollars. She’d skin me alive before decapitating me and marching around town with my head on a stick.

“Is this car yours?”

“It is.”

“How long have you owned it?”

My sassy girl is too smart for her own good. “Two days.” Because it took the seller two days to get the car to Colorado.

She studies the car. “It needs restoration.”

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