Page 17 of Trouble
Hearing the sound of the shower, I debated whether it was appropriate to join her. Given our appointment, I suspected not. More’s the pity.
Not an hour later, we were at the seller’s place. His garage was a place of dreams to a petrol head like me. If my aunt thought I had a lot of cars, she ought to see this place.
The MG was around the back, out of public view.
“Take your time looking her over,” said the seller. “Make sure you get a good feel for her.”
The black beauty was perfect. Secretly, I’d hoped the car would be nothing I was interested in, nothing worth saving. Lyla and I wandered around it, inspecting it, checking the engine, the paintwork, the overall condition. Sure, it needed some work, but not as much as I’d initially thought.
“What do you think?” Lyla’s violet eyes were wide with excitement. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her so animated. Well, except last night, and the night before.
I shot her a look, trying to get her to downplay her enthusiasm. We didn’t want the seller to think we didn’t know what we were doing. On the drive up, we’d discussed price and costs and agreed to go halves on everything. Our heads were bent close together as we circled the car, occasionally reaching out to touch the paintwork or bending over to kick the tires.
The seller sat in the office, watching our every move. We took our time, making sure we were happy before I finally gave Lyla the nod we should go ahead. I’d insisted on being the one to make the offer. I didn’t want the seller to take advantage of Lyla because she was young and female. After all, I knew how these guys could operate: sell a dud car at an inflated price, then disappear before they could be hit with any complaints. She had been disappointed and pouted, calling me out for being sexist. But I was forceful, telling her it would be quicker for me to do the deal and then we could head home and start work. Grudgingly, she agreed.
“It’s kind of a mess,” I told the seller when I entered the office.
He frowned. “Not that much. I’m sure a guy like you will be able to pretty it up real quick.”
“It will be a good car to teach my girl on.” My gaze fell on Lyla, who was waiting outside. She was leaning against the car, long legs encased in tight blue jeans, topped with a bright red t-shirt that clung to her curves.
Red for danger.
Fuck me, she was dangerous.
The seller eyed me curiously, glancing over at Lyla. “How long have you been together?”
“She’s had my heart for about ten years,” I admitted. What I omitted to tell him was she shouldn’t, she couldn’t and what we were doing was all kinds of wrong.
His eyebrows shot up. “Really? High school sweethearts?”
The corner of my mouth quirked. “Something like that.” I reached into my pocket for my wallet. “Let’s talk about the price.”
After a few minutes of negotiating, we shook hands on a deal. I strode outside to Lyla, my heart pounding.
“Well?” She pounced on me immediately.
“It’s ours.”
She squealed and threw herself at me, leaping into my arms and wrapping her legs around my waist.
“Hey.” I laughed. “The hard work starts now.”
She slithered to the ground, brushing her black hair out of her face. “How do we get it back to Cali Cross?”
I jerked a thumb in the direction of the office. “We can rent a flatbed and drive it home right now. Are you okay to take the Jeep?”
“Are you going to let me to drive those whole five hours?” Her wide-eyed look taunted me over the rules I’d made on our drive up, back when I’d been adamant we should share the task.
“We’ll take regular breaks and take our time. I don’t have anything else planned for today, do you?”
“Nope.”
“Then it’s sorted. I’ll go and get the keys.”
It took us a lot longer to get back to Cali Cross than expected. The rest breaks I’d scheduled seemed to stretch out longer than anticipated as we talked and held hands and made plans. There was a part of me that didn’t want to leave our bubble. Getting home would bring things back to earth with an almighty bump. On the final leg of the journey, I made a decision. Lyla wasn’t going to like it, but it was the best thing to do for the both of us.
Once the car was in position inside the garage and I’d checked over the notes the guys had left from the day’s business, I beckoned her over. I sat behind the desk in the office and gestured for her to sit down. Her brow seemed to furrow at the formality of the situation.
