“Huh?”
He plopped her in the driver’s seat and buckled and tightened the seat belt for her, pressing her back into the seat with his muscular torso and filling her head with his scent. She kissed his temple and he grinned at her as Vincent slid over and they both pointed out the windshield. She frowned and then James’s words registered as she looked at the river bottom before them, where water still stood from recent rains.
“Oh, that’s not a good idea. Me? No. Not a good idea.” She shook her head.
Vincent chuckled, an evil, sexy sound. “Our little staid store manager has never turned a doughnut in the mud?”
“No!” she squealed, clenching her hands to her chest. “Never!”
“Never broke in a set of new tires on cold asphalt?” James asked with laughter in his voice.
“You know me better than that, guys! Cold?” she asked, turning confused eyes on James.
“Cold asphalt makes the tires slicker and doesn’t tear up the surface as much.”
Leah scoffed. “Sounds to me like someone knows whereof they speak.”
Vincent laid his hand on her thigh as he stuck the key in the ignition for her. “I think that’s exactly why you need to do it now. At least once, or…are ya chicken?”
James made a tiny chicken “bawk-bawk” noise as he hopped in, buckled his seat belt and then jerked it tight.
She turned a glower on both of them. “Who are you calling chicken?”
* * * *
Vincent’s heart pumped fast as Leah put the 4x4 in park next to his truck in the driveway. Leah’s eyes sparkled and high color rode in her cheeks, what he could see of them, at least.
Before either of them could stop her, she popped open the driver’s side door and hopped out, landing with sure feet on the driveway, and leaving a muddy splat around her sneakers.
“Sorry about your sneakers, fluff,” he said with a chuckle as she did a victory dance.
“Are you kidding? That was so much fun! Fuck my sneakers!”
He and James sat there chuckling as she danced in place to the music still blaring on the radio. She shook her ass to the beat and Vincent lowered his voice and said, “If she’s gonna do stuff like that, I can listen to any of that music she likes. Who is this again?”
“Um…Hey, honey? Who is this singing?” James called.
Leah paused and looked over her shoulder at them, her eyes full of merriment. “Sia. Who’s going to dance with me? Cuz, I feel like swinging from a chandelier! Woohoo!”
“There you have it, bro,” James said as he hurriedly unbuckled his seat belt and jumped down. Vincent scooted over to the driver door and sat there watching her enjoy herself as James came around and grabbed her up and spun her around.
All three of them were covered head to toe in gray mud after getting in touch with their inner redneck and helping Leah find hers. She’d gotten the truck stuck, as they’d predicted, and they’d had to get it unstuck for her. They’d all three wound up slipping and falling in the mud in the process. The truck was covered with it on the outside and the inside. Big globs of it dripped off and plopped onto the driveway.
Vincent jumped out of the truck, pulled the lever that moved the seat forward, and reached into the box they’d put there earlier that afternoon.
“What’s that?” Leah asked breathlessly as James finally set her back on her feet.
Vincent leaned forward and kissed her lips, grinning because she even had a bit of mud on them. “You’re a mess, little fluff.”
She smiled up at him, unrepentant, and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever had that much fun before. I remember seeing a picture of Patterson covered in mud the other day when you were showing Kendry the photo album. It’s almost like he’s here with us right now. I don’t even care if my clothes are ruined. I haven’t felt this happy in…I don’t know how long.”
“Perfect,” he said as he made eye contact with James and unscrewed the lid on the mason jar he held in his hand.
“What’s that?” Leah asked at the distinctive singing sound of the rim skimming over the metal lid.
Vincent grinned as he held it up to the light. “A friend of Patterson’s brought this down the last time he visited from his home in Kentucky.”
Leah’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that homemade?”
Vincent took a sip and swallowed liquid fire. His eyes watered as it lit a path straight to his belly. “That, little fluff, is some of the finest white lightnin’ known to man.”
“Can I try?” she asked without hesitation, reaching for the mason jar.
“Careful, honey,” James said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Just a tiny sip because it’s got quite a kick to it.”