Page 98 of In Plain Sight

He’d also dressed up a bit. I was used to seeing him in sweats or loose jeans and baggy sweaters. His dark jeans clung to his long legs, and the soft blue dress shirt he had on was so light it was almost white. The top two buttons were undone, and he’d rolled the sleeves up, showing off his toned forearms. He’d also put on a silver bracelet and several silver rings that he sometimes wore when he wasn’t at work, and the contrast of the bright metal against his golden skin was way more interesting than it should have been.

“This is weird, right?” I blurted out, needing to break the silence that had fallen over us.

He huffed out a soft laugh. “Yeah, it is.”

“It shouldn’t be. I mean, we’re friends, right? But this isn’t really a friend thing. I mean, I haven’t blown any of my other friends or seen their O face,” I babbled, my chest heating uncomfortably at the memory of Zander’s face when he’d come last night and shot his load down my throat. I shook my head and let out a hollow laugh. “I’m not making things better, am I?”

“Not really, but I like you all awkward and stammering.” The corner of his lips curled up in a sexy smirk.

“Then you’re in luck because this seems to be my default setting tonight,” I joked.

“Luka,” he said in that rumbly voice I liked way too much. “It’s okay.” He gently held my upper arms and gave me a warm smile. “Just try to relax and be yourself tonight.”

“Are you sure? Being myself is usually the best way to make people run for the hills. That’s a weird saying, isn’t it?” I said in a rush, not sure why I was still talking but unable to stop. “Do you think anyone has ever actually specifically run for the hills to get away from someone? Is it that much of a thing that they had to make a saying about it?” I snapped my mouth closed, finally getting a hold of myself. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous.”

He squeezed my arms reassuringly. “It’s fine. And no apologizing for things that don’t warrant an apology, okay?”

“Okay.” I could feel some of the tension melting out of me at the reassuring words coupled with the tender look in his eyes.

“Want to check out my garage?” he asked, letting go of my arms.

My skin chilled at the loss of contact, and I had the insane urge to hug him. Just wrap my arms around him and hold him close so I could feel all of him against me.

I pushed that thought out of my head. “Do I even have to answer that? Of course I do.”

Chuckling, he motioned to the door I’d assumed led to his garage. He pulled it open and flipped on the light.

I looked around the space, my head on a swivel, as I followed him down a short flight of wooden steps.

The garage was bigger than I thought it would be. His house was the style that had the garage built into the structure instead of it being a separate building attached to the house. I’d assumed it would be big enough for a single car and maybe some storage based on the narrow driveway.

Width-wise, the garage was as big as I’d suspected, but it was almost twice as deep and could probably fit two cars if they were bumper to bumper.

My gaze landed on the Camaro sitting in the middle of the space. He hadn’t been lying when he said it was stripped to the bones. The paint job had seen better days, but the body was in decent shape with only a few minor dings and some scratches that would be easy enough to buff out. The interior, however, was a mess. It looked like someone had taken a machete to the seats, and almost all the carpeting had been ripped out. The glove box didn’t have a cover on it, and the radio was gone. I could only imagine what kind of shape the engine was in if the exterior was this bad.

“The cops did a number on it,” he said, stopping next to the car. “I work on it when I can, but the parts aren’t cheap, so I haven’t made much headway.”

“Do you know what they were looking for?” I walked a slow circle around the vehicle, taking in every detail.

“No clue. Probably drugs or weapons. Or maybe they just wanted to fuck something up.” He shrugged. “Who knows.”

I stopped in front of the car and pointed to the hood. “Can I?”

He nodded.

I popped it and held it up, not bothering with the kickstand, and checked out the engine. About half of the components were new, but the ones that weren’t were in even worse shape than the interior.

The car had been horribly neglected for years. I couldn’t imagine it being drivable, even before the cops went hog wild on the interior. “How long was it in police custody before they sold it off?”

“Not sure.” He came to stand next to me. “They don’t release a lot of details when they auction them. I just know that they didn’t find any drugs, weapons, or human remains in it.”

“I beg your finest pardon.Human remains?” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. “They auction off cars people havediedin?”

“Or been found dead in.”

“That’s messed up.”

“It is,” he agreed. “You couldn’t pay me to take a car with that kind of bad energy attached to it. The only reason I bid on this one was because the listing said nothing had been found in it and it had been impounded as part of a property seizure warrant and not because they thought the car was directly linked to any crimes.”

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