He made his way round to his side of the car, and got in behind the wheel. The steering wheel had been the last piece to be put in. Andreas had driven all the way to a junk yard in New Jersey to find it. It went in the day before his graduation.
He cleared his throat. Ronnie was sitting like a statue on the seat next to him. Hands clutched in her lap. He glanced her way, but she wouldn’t look at him. “Seatbelt,” he murmured politely reminding her, but when she made no move to put it on, he couldn’t resist adding, “It’s the law.”
“I know the law, moron. It’s stuck. I tried,” she said as her head whipped around to him.
He quashed the urge to take the wildcat over his knees; he was trying to be sensitive after all, even though he didn’t know why. He let out a sigh of frustration and leaned over to help her with it. He smoothly pulled the belt over her lap, and chest, and his arm brushed her breasts. She pulled back. The current went through his arm like a shock of electricity, and from her reaction he knew she felt it too. His arm tingled from where it made the contact among other places.
“Yeah stuck,” he teased her as he righted himself in his seat. He forgot the passenger belt locked up on occasion. He rarely had people in this car. Normally he used one of the company’s vehicles when he was transporting people, but he’d made the exception. For Ronnie.
“It was,” she exclaimed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, and turning to give him one of her fiercest stares.
He looked back and could see the tough shell was anything but. He knew underneath she must be scared as hell. Hell, he would be too if he was in her dilemma. Accused of drug smuggling with the evidence stacked against her, and being just twenty-two, he felt some pity for her. He tried not to think of the other feelings he had for her. They confused the hell out of him. Thinking they’d go away on their own, he hadn’t tried very hard to get ahold of her last summer. When he worked up the courage to try, she had already left Florida, and returned to school for her final year of college. But seeing her again, he had a pang of regret. It would have been good. Really good.
Down boy, he cautioned himself as he took one more look at those incredible thighs. The girl must run, or do a lot of hiking. He remembered her telling him last year that she was studying forestry and environmental sciences. She was a tomboy, she had joked. She sure as hell didn’t look like one. Not in that mini skirt, and silky rust tank top that didn’t leave much to the imagination.
Shaking his head, he started the engine, and the car rumbled to life. He loved the power of this car, and how it felt to drive it. He backed up, turned out of the lot, and in a few more turns he was on Nebraska Avenue headed down State Road 41 to her mom’s house in Spring Hill. It was about an hour’s drive. He could have taken the shorter route on the Suncoast Highway, but he wanted the extra twenty minutes with her. He wanted to learn some things about Miss Sears that he hadn’t been able to last summer. His brothers told him to gather as much information as he could about her in case she ran.
Even though she was technically a friend of the family, they were still running a business. They always kept a close eye on all their clients, and did their research. Business was business. But given the state of their previous relationship, he figured he needed to soften her up a bit first. She wouldn’t be very willing to confide in him so easily. So talking about himself first might make the transition smoother.
“My brothers helped me to build this car, put it back together, get it running, and we restored it to its original glory,” he offered. When she made no reply and only stared ahead stonily he added, “My father bought it for me as an early graduation gift a year before both my parents were killed.” He saw out of the corner of his eye that she sat up a bit straighter, and she turned to him slightly. She was listening. “Yeah, so it’s not a toy to me. Just saying,” he gave her a sideways smile. She gave him a small one in return so he continued. “My dad and I bought the car together when I was sixteen. We got the motor working but that was about it. Then he died.”
She cleared her throat before speaking. She felt guilty for her earlier callous remark. “I’m sorry about your parents. Was it a car accident?” He mentioned them dying and wondered how.
“No, murder actually,” he said nonchalantly.
“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed. “I had no idea. I am so sorry.”
He saw the sympathy in her eyes and a tell-tale guilty blush. He shocked her by sharing this information. Her arms relaxed though, and she was wringing her hands in her lap.