Chapter 4
The moment I saw Aimee today, I was a fucking goner.
Aimee showed up wearing jeans that hugged her luscious full hips, immediately filling my mind with fantasies of grabbing her hips and losing myself in the treasure between her legs. And fuck. The blouse. Nicer than I would have expected for going to the car show, but damn if it’s not the most tasteful and sexy thing I’ve ever seen on a woman. The soft fabric hugged her breasts, and I had to think of sick puppies to stop the raging hard-on that threatened to take over.
When all was said and done, I was ready to abandon the car show, take her to my favorite overlook on King Mountain, and make out with her in the back seat of my car. She makes my motor rev like a fucking horny teenager.
“You having a good time?” I ask Aimee, putting my hand on her lower back as we navigate the crowd. There aren’t many people here, but I can’t stop touching her. Every time I touch her, I want to carry her to bed and devour her.
“I am, Mack. I hadn’t heard about this show, and I’m so happy you invited me! These cars are wonderful,” Aimee smiles at me, and I’m not sure my chest can contain how wildly my heart is thumping. “Oh, look!”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” I grin as Aimee grabs my hand and leads me to where a perfect match to Aimee’s Mustang is on display. This one is in pristine condition and waxed to within an inch of its life. “Your Mustang will look like this one when I’m finished, though maybe with less wax.”
Aimee looks at me, her eyes filled with a happiness that stirs my grumpy old heart. I want to make her smile like this today and forever.
“When I was seven years old, I told my dad I wanted to use part of my allowance to make a down payment on his Mustang so I could buy it when I was sixteen.” A smile that is both fond and sad plays on her lips, and I understand at once that her relationship with her father was strained.
“What did he have to say about that?”
Aimee sighs and shakes her head. “He thought it was cute but told me to keep my money. He said I could have the car when I was thirty, which seemed like an eternity.”
“How were things between you two?” I ask, once again putting my hand on her lower back. She leans toward me, and every atom of my body fires like a piston.
“They were…” She pauses, and I see some of a wall return. “Things were fine until high school. He wanted me to study business, but I wouldn’t consider it. I’d been drawing and practicing art all my life and knew I wanted to be a graphic designer. He didn’t take it well and never got over my decision.”
“I’m so sorry, Aimee.” I put my hand on her arm. I want to take her in my arms and hug her so tightly that all the pain of her past disappears. I want her to be safe and happy with me, and I’ll do anything I can to make her feel that way.
She pauses, staring off into the distance. “When I was accepted to the art school at college and later landed my first internship, we had another huge blow-up. He laid into me again about finding a so-called sensible career. Apparently, he thought the ‘art thing,’ as he called it, would run its course, or I’d finally understand how difficult it was and abandon it. I only ever fell more in love with what I do.” Aimee gives a sad sigh. “We never saw eye to eye after that. Not even when I proved I wasn’t starving. He didn’t want to believe that making my own choices would result in something good.”
Aimee turns to me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I pull her into a hug, and she tucks her head against my chest. Her breath hitches, and I hold her tighter, gently rubbing her back with my hand. I wish I could take the burden of this painful memory from her.
After a moment, she pulls back, dabbing at her eyes. The sadness isn”t gone, but there”s a lightness to her now. Sometimes, you need to open up those old wounds and let them breathe so they can heal.
I push Aimee’s curly brown hair behind her ear, and a twist of frustration fills me as I see the sadness and hurt in her eyes. “I know what you’re talking about. Your dad sounds a lot like one of my mechanics, Roman. His daughter is studying creative writing in college now, but for a long time, things were tense between them.”
“What happened to change that?”
I smile. “Well, he met Marsha. She was one of Tessa’s teachers and intervened. The way I hear it, she gave him an earful about all kinds of writing and how much money can be made. She got Tessa to agree to also study technical writing, so she has a safety net.”
She sighs, looking down at the ground for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “I wish someone had done that for me when I was younger. I loved my dad and know he wanted the best for me, but graphic design was my true passion. He never understood why I wanted something he thought was so foolish for myself.”
She pauses and fixes her pretty gaze on me. There’s so much going on behind her eyes. “You know, you surprise me, Mack.”
I return her gaze. “How do you mean?”
“Well,” she gives me a dazzling smile, “you’re not what I expected. You seemed gruff and grumpy, but you’re tender and sweet with me. I don’t talk about my father with strangers, but there’s something…comforting about you. I feel completely at ease with you.” Her cheeks flush with color as she meets my gaze. “I mean, we just met, and I feel like I could tell you anything.”
Her candid words fill my heart with pride. Without hesitation, I reach out and stroke her jaw with the palm of my hand. Our eyes lock as she leans into my hand, her lips parted. At this moment, the din of the car show fades away. There”s only me and Aimee – nothing else exists.
The air between us is heavy with attraction as we stand together, neither of us moving and breaking the perfection of this moment.
I clear my throat, trying to gather my scattered thoughts and calm the hard-on that’s stirring again. “I know what you mean. It’s easy being with you.”
A group of people crowd around us, and we start walking again. I want to share everything with Aimee, but I don’t know where to start.
“Let me tell you a bit about my grandfather. I used to help him work on his 1957 Ford Thunderbird when I was a kid. That car meant the world to him.” I smile at the memory. “He”d let me hand him tools and taught me all about engines. I loved spending that time together, just the two of us in the garage. It”s what started my love for vintage cars.” My voice grows thick with emotion, but I force myself to meet Aimee”s gaze. I’m not going to hide from making myself vulnerable to her. “So, I get it. I know how a car can represent so much more than metal and wheels. The memories tied to it, the history...that”s where the real value lies.”
Aimee nods slowly, her eyes glistening. “Yeah, exactly,” she whispers. “It”s about so much more than the car itself. It”s...”
“It”s about family,” I finish quietly.
She reaches out to squeeze my hand. We understand each other in a way that strengthens our attraction from more than pure desire into something that connects deep in our souls.
Aimee”s hand lingers on mine, her touch soft and warm. She steps closer, and all my senses go on high alert as my body vibrates with need for her.
“Thank you for listening, for understanding,” she murmurs.
Her eyes search mine, vulnerable but filled with something more. Her eyes move to my mouth, and her lips part again. In that instant, I know I can’t deny myself – or her – any longer.
Blood roars through my veins as I cradle her face in my hands. I draw her in, my desire burning hotter as her eyelids flutter closed, and she tilts her head to mine. Our mouths meet in a searing kiss, quickly moving from tender to passionate.
I pull her tight against me, one hand tangling in her hair, the other pressing into the small of her back and pulling her against my body. She melts into me with a soft moan that makes my heart pound.
We come up for air, foreheads touching, breathing ragged.
Her eyes shine as she traces her thumb along my bottom lip and smiles. “Wow,” she whispers.
I grin and caress her cheek. “Wow is right.”
Our lips meet again and again, each kiss deeper than the last. Her hands grasp my shirt, pulling me impossibly closer until no space remains between us. I trail kisses along her jawline, relishing the sound of her throaty sigh. When I reach a sensitive spot behind her ear, she gasps and arches into me.
“Mack,” she breathes, desire heavy in her voice.
Hearing my name on her lips fans the flames inside me. I plant more kisses along the slope of her neck. She feels so right in my arms, like she was custom-made to fit with me.
Aimee has awakened something I wasn’t sure I’d find in myself or with another woman – a yearning for love, passion, and hope. Now that I’ve had a taste of it, I can’t get enough.
“I don”t want this to end,” she confesses.
I press my forehead to hers. “Me, neither.” I barely remember that we’re standing in the middle of a crowded event. All I see is her. And I know one thing for sure – I”m never letting her go.