Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MIA
“I’m stuffed,” I whine, pushing my plate away and rubbing my now hurting stomach. “Who let me eat so much?”
A napkin comes flying at my face, Nola grinning. “We don’t let you do anything. You did that all on your own.”
Both of us turn to look at Sofie, who is still stuffing her face. “I think Sofie’s hollow leg has been activated. It’s the only place for the food to go.”
“Shut up,” she mumbles around a mouthful of food. “It’s too good. I can’t stop.”
“Well, if you’d come see me more often, you wouldn’t be needing your fix so bad,” Sandy playfully snips as she refills coffee cups.
Grace, Nola, and Sofie all tense at the words, casting their eyes downward.
“Oh, girls, I’m sorry. I know this place has bad memories for you. I’ve just missed you all so much. I understand why you don’t stop in, but know when you do, I’ll take care of you.”
“Thanks, Sandy. We miss you, too.” I smile at her.
“Ha! You just miss my waffles.”
We share a laugh, and I look around at this motley crew that have somehow become like family to me in the last few months. It’s like Demitri and I did some weird meshing of people who happen to all get along. As we finish up, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.
When I step out of the bathroom, Grace’s boss, James, stops me before I can exit the hallway.
“Hey, James. What’s going on?”
“How well do you know, uh, John?”
The look I give him must make him realize how idiotic he sounds, and he sighs, restating his question.
“You know who Demitri is?”
“I do.”
“Do you trust him?”
“With my life. I’d trust him to stand in front of a moving train for not only me, but every person sitting out there. Well, maybe not Daniel, but that’s a different story.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I just worry about you.”
“I appreciate your worry but know that I am well aware of where he comes from, and it doesn’t matter to me.”
“You’ll call me if you need help?”
“No offense or anything, but if I’m in the way of bodily harm, I’m probably going to call one of those guys out there with the military background and training who know how to kill a man with their pinkies.”
“Alright.” he holds his hands up in defeat. “I earned that. But don’t forget that if you need me, I’m here.”
“Thanks, James. I appreciate it. We should get back before someone misses us,” I tell him.
“Too late for that,” Demitri says, coming up and pulling me to him then wrapping his arms around me. A clear, possessive move. Can’t say I’m mad about it. “Mr. Covey.”
James sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose like an old man who’s tired of dealing with everyone’s shit. “It’s James. And if I was an ass earlier, I apologize.”
I feel Demitri’s grin on the side of my head, and I wait for his response.
“No worries, friend. But next time you want to grill my girl about me, you should go ahead and include me in the conversation.”
“You heard that?” I tilt my face to see him.
“We all heard it. Lesson one: Never have a ‘private’ conversation in Sandy’s in the hallway to the bathrooms because it’s nothing but an amplifier to the dining room.”
James has the good sense to look at least a little ashamed.
“Good. Then everyone out there will know that I take care of my family, and those women are my family.”
“Then we agree. We protect our family. But what we aren’t going to do? Judge anyone based on their past, their families, or what they’ve done to survive. Understand?” Demitri asks him, the pain in his voice at being judged evident.
James regards him for a minute before rewarding us with a small hitch of his lips. That’s about the only smile you get from the guy, ever, so it’s big. “Understood.”
“Good. So, how about we start over and realize we both want the same things?”
Demitri sticks out his hand and waits. James rolls his eyes before shaking hands.
“I’m John, but my friends call me Demitri.” It’s a challenge. We all know it.
“James. Nice to meet you, Demitri.”
“Kiss and make up so we can get out of here. I have a hot wife to go home to!” Joker gives us shit from the table, making everyone laugh—the girls—or groan—the guys.
“You heard the man. If we don’t get out there, he’s going to start talking about what he wants to do to his wife,” Grady hollers.
“Let’s go, boys.” I grin at them. “No need to make everyone else miserable while you’re deciding if your pissing match is over.”
Demitri chuckles, and James shakes his head. We all exit the hallway to cheers. Crisis averted, I guess.
We take care of the bill and bid a somewhat teary farewell to Sandy and George, who, in a rare occurrence, stands up from his perch at the bar to hug a number of us. When we walk outside, I’m stopped in my tracks by the most beautiful car I’ve ever seen.
“Is that a sixty-seven Shelby?” I ask, turning to Demitri.
“Yeah.” He almost looks embarrassed.
“You’ve had that beautiful girl and never told me?”
“I didn’t think about it?”
“Demitri! You don’t hide a car like that. You show her off, you show her love, you treat her right!”
“Oh, shit,” Nola says from behind us. “Here we go.”
Demitri turns to look at her, but I’m on a roll now.
“This is a nineteen-sixty-seven Ford Shelby GT500. Carroll Shelby designed it, and it’s still thought of as a superior racing machine today. She’s sleek. She’s fast. She’s got a big-block V8 engine. She’s got not one, but two 600-CFM Holley carburetors. She’s sexy. Fuck, Demitri, can I touch her?” I ask, practically jumping out of my skin.
He stares at me, slack jawed, and I swear I see love in his eyes. He cracks a grin, and with a husky voice, replies, “Yeah, Krasotka , you can touch her.”
I think I hear the other guys laughing, but I pay them no mind. I slowly walk to the car, sticking my hand out, and finally run my fingers along her body.
“We should just go,” Grace says quietly. “We’ve lost her. She’s not leaving that car.”
“I didn’t know she had such a big thing for cars,” Demitri whispers loudly behind me.
“Not cars. One car.”
“Why?”
“You’ll have to ask her.”
I know the others are leaving. I hear car doors and engines start, but I’ll worry about them later. I can’t take my fingers off the beautiful front quarter panel.
“Wanna go for a ride?” Demitri breathes into my ear, making me shiver.
“Can I drive her?”
“One day.”
I turn to him with a pout and sad eyes, and that bastard just laughs.
“It was really windy on the pass coming over. And other people are stupid when it’s windy on the mountain. I don’t want you or her to get hurt, okay? I promise I’ll take you out and let you drive her all fucking day, okay?”
“That makes me feel marginally better.”
“How about I let you squeeze the stick the entire ride back?”
“I feel like there’s an inappropriate joke there somewhere.”
“Probably.” He grins, shrugging one shoulder. “Your chariot awaits, milady.” He holds his arm out for me and walks me to the passenger door, opening it and helping me sit down.
I’m pretty sure I moan when my ass hits the buttery leather seats. And there’s no way in hell I can keep my hands to myself. I touch everything. The door handle, the gear stick, the dash.
Demitri gets behind the wheel and turns to grin at me. “Care to tell me why you love this car so much?”
“My uncle had one. We’d spend entire weekends tuning it up and cleaning her.”
“That’s nice. But why do I feel like there’s something not so nice coming?”
“He was killed in a car accident. Some kid high on meth ran him off the road and into a tree. He was killed instantly, and the car was totaled.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too. More than the car, he was the only relative I had that tried to protect me.”
“How old were you when he died?”
“Fifteen. The summer I grew boobs. Bad timing on the tweaker’s part, that’s for sure.” I turn my head against the seat and look at Demitri. “This car reminds me of him and the good memories. Thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.” He smirks. And then he starts the engine. I think I might orgasm right here. Maybe the trick was a Shelby all along. Hell, the rumble coming from under the hood vibrating the seat is doing a damn fine job of getting me close.
“Demitri, take me home.”
“Yes, ma’am.”