Page 24 of Nailed (Dad Bod Contracting 3)
I smile, huffing a laugh as he trails off. “I look what?”
He holds out his hands palms up and then drops them at his sides. “Breathtaking.”
I duck my head, the compliment sending a rush of warmth through me, a thrill of excitement settling in my belly. “Thank you.”
I’m wearing a dress I’ve had for years, but haven’t had reason to wear until now. A curve-hugging bandage dress, it’s a pale green that makes my eyes pop even more brightly, showing off my naturally tan skin, and emphasizing my assets to an almost indecent degree. Paired with a push-up bra, the effect is, honestly, pretty jaw-dropping.
I turn in a slow circle, because the back of the dress is racerback, showing off my shoulders, which I work hard to make sure look amazing.
He whistles. “Seriously, Laurel. I didn’t think you could get any sexier, and then you put on that dress.”
I grin. “Thanks. I’ve had this for years, but haven’t had a chance to wear it until now”
Ryder frowns. “Well that’s a goddamn shame.” He grins, then. “I’ll have to make sure to take you out to a lot of fancy dinners in that case, so you can wear that dress for me again.”
I smirk. “Or I could wear another one.”
He widens his eyes. “You have more like that?”
My smirk turns mischievous. “You’ll have to take me on more nice dates so you can find out.”
His expression is heated, then. Deadly serious. “Am I allowed to claim you every weekend Nate is with his dad?”
I want to shout “YES!” but instead I just shrug. “Let’s see how this weekend goes first, shall we?”
He just snickers. “Playing it cool, I see. That’s fine. I can play it cool too.” He takes my bag and gestures to the curb. “Shall we?”
I check my purse for keys and phone and other essentials, make sure I’ve turned off all the lights, and then lock my door behind me. Turning to follow Ryder, I glance at my phone to make sure I don’t have any last minute work emails, and then silence it and put it in the pocket inside my purse. When I look up, I’m startled to see a bright orange classic BMW instead of his antique box truck.
I look over the car. “Wow. This is awesome!”
He grins proudly. “It’s a 1965 BMW 700. Once I finished my truck, I needed a new weekend project, and restoring cars has been my hobby since I was a teenager. My uncle was a classic car restoration expert, and I spent every weekend during the school year and most of my summers in his shop, helping him and learning.” He pats the roof of the car. “This baby was a hell of a lot of work, and more money than I’d like to admit, but she turned out pretty slick, if I do say so myself.”
I nod admiringly. “I’d have to agree. I don’t know anything about cars, but this thing is really cool.”
“It’s got the original flat six in it, the original radio, and all the hardware and upholstery is vintage BMW as well, just not original to this car.”
“So, do you own any cars newer than this one?” I ask, joking, as he opens the passenger door for me.
I buckle up and admire the clean, classic interior as he rounds the hood and slides in.
“Nope.” He chuckles. “Actually, that’s not true. I do have an old beater pickup in my barn. It’s from…ahh…eighty-eight? Eighty-six? Somewhere around there. A big old monster of a thing with a rusted bed and wheel wells, but it’s a four-by-four and pretty much unstoppable. I drive it in the worst of the winter weather. I tinker with it now and then, now that the Beemer is pretty much done, but I’m leaving it as a beater.”
I laugh. “So nothing actually new.”
He snorts, derisive and dismissive. “Nah. New cars aren’t my thing. There’s no fun in ’em. I like to buy a junked-out old piece of shit and turn it into something beautiful.” He pats the steering wheel. “This, for example, was basically just the body when I bought it. The engine had been parted out, the upholstery was in shreds, the glass was gone, but the body and frame were in amazing condition. I spent months looking for the right motor to put in this thing, and once that was done, the rest was fairly easy.”
“So now that this is done, are you gonna find a new project?”
We’re heading for downtown Chicago, a drive of a little over half an hour. He shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably, eventually. I only really finished the last few touches on this over the summer, so I’ll probably just enjoy driving her for a while. Eventually I’ll need a new project, though.”
“What do you think it’ll be?”
