Chapter 21
Patience – a trait Gibson lacks when it comes to Mercy
Gibson
It’s been five days since I’ve seen Mercy. I’m officially done waiting for her to come to me. And, damn it, I’ve missed her. I’ve missed her laugh. I’ve missed her sass. I’ve missed her. Period. Messaging on the phone is not the same.
I’m beginning to understand why Cash, Fender, and Dylan get antsy when we’re gone from Winter Falls too long. If I’m lucky, I’ll be annoyingly antsy on our next mini-tour.
I park in the driveway in front of Mercy’s garage and scan the area. Basil’s house is next door but otherwise the garage sits on land in the middle of a field far away from the rest of Winter Falls.
I climb out of the car and walk to the side entrance of the garage. I knock but when no one answers I try the door. It’s unlocked.
I enter the garage and realize why no one answered my knock. The radio is blaring music. I have no problem with blaring music but country? Really? I’m going to convert my sassy girl to a rock listener if it’s the last thing I do.
I find the radio and switch to a rock station. I smile when I realize the Cash the Sinners song Resurrect is playing.
“Basil, switch the music back!” Mercy hollers from underneath the car she’s working on.
“Wasn’t me!” He yells from where he’s working on some engine part on a table in the corner. He glances over at me and winks. I lift my chin in greeting.
Mercy glides out from underneath the car. I wait near the radio for her. She gets to her feet and scowls at me.
I ignore the scowl since I’m too busy being enchanted by her body. She’s wearing overalls but the top is pulled down and tied around her waist exposing her sports bra and the smooth skin of her stomach. As she stomps toward me, her breasts bounce and my mouth waters.
My cock twitches. He wants to fuck those breasts. I fist my hands before I reach for her and draw her into my arms. I still need to convince her to be mine. To give us a chance.
“Lead mechanic chooses the music,” she declares as she reaches for the radio.
I snatch her wrist to stop her. “Just listen to this song.”
Her eyes narrow. “Is it one of yours?”
I nod. “Cash wrote it for Indigo when he was trying to win her back.”
She grins. “Ah, how sweet.”
I used to think it was disgusting. Why write a song for one woman? There are plenty of them to choose from. You don’t need to get stuck on one of them.
But then I met Mercy and I’m starting to get it. I’m starting to get all of it. Why men give up careers for women. Why men choose to forgo other women for the one.
“This song isn’t bad,” she says after the chorus finishes.
I chuckle. “Isn’t bad? It’s been at the top of the charts for months now.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
I tweak her nose. “Really. Have you not googled the band yet?”
“Nope. And I don’t plan to either.”
I used to get annoyed about how she didn’t care about the band. Not anymore. I’m enjoying how she likes me – Gibson Lewis – for who I am. Because I am more than a rockstar. I am more than a man who can play the guitar. And fame eventually fades.
The song ends and I lower the volume.
“I’ll convert you to rock music eventually.”
She rolls her eyes. “In your dreams, guitar man. In your dreams.”
“At least you realize I play the guitar.”
Her eyes twinkle. “Well, you definitely don’t sing.”
I lower my voice. “What’s wrong with my voice?” Her eyes flare and I step closer. “You don’t enjoy the sound of my voice? You don’t enjoy it when I whisper naughty words into your ear while I’m buried deep inside you?” Her breath hitches and I reach for her.
“Ahem!” Basil clears his voice as he slides past us. “I’m taking a break for lunch.” He winks at me. “A long lunch.”
“Now, where were we?” I ask once the door shuts behind him.
Mercy shuffles away from me. “I was wondering what you’re doing here since you agreed to give me space until I make a decision about us.”
Damn. No sexy times on top of the hood of the car Mercy’s working on. My cock protests.
“I have a surprise for you.” And I missed you.
She motions to my crotch. “I hope that’s not my surprise.”
I smirk. “It’s a bonus.”
She blows out a breath. “I’m serious, Gibson. What are you doing here?”
“And I’m serious. I have a surprise.”
“A real surprise? Not the one-eyed snake in your pants?”
I chuckle. “A real surprise.”
“Where is it?”
I hold out my hand. “Let me show you.”
Relief fills my chest when she doesn’t hesitate to take my hand. The second we touch, sparks fly from her skin to mine. Yep. This woman is meant for me.
I lead her out of the garage to the driveway where her surprise is parked.
She gasps and tugs out of my hold to run to the car. “Is this a 1965 Ford Mustang Shelby GT350?”
She doesn’t wait for my answer before continuing. “Where did you get it? There were less than six-hundred of these built. How did you find it? Did you buy it? Does she drive?”
I dangle the keys in front of her face. “I drove it over here.”
She snatches the keys from me and rushes to the driver’s door. When I don’t move, she motions to the passenger seat. “Get in. This is the surprise, right? I get to drive an original Shelby?”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “Um, actually…”
Her eyes narrow. “You better not have bought this car for me.”
“I didn’t.” I wouldn’t dare buy her a car worth half a million dollars. She’d skin me alive before decapitating me and marching around town with my head on a stick.
“Is this car yours?”
“It is.”
“How long have you owned it?”
My sassy girl is too smart for her own good. “Two days.” Because it took the seller two days to get the car to Colorado.
She studies the car. “It needs restoration.”
“Lucky for me, I happen to know a mechanic who restores classic cars.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me. “You don’t have to buy me business.”
“I’m not. I need a car if I’m going to stay in Winter Falls.”
“You’re staying in Winter Falls?”
I shrug. “I don’t have anywhere else to go and I like it here.” I like one person in particular.
“Even if you can’t buy beer here?”
I nod. “Even if.”
“Even if you have to stay sober?”
“Not buying beer kind of implies staying sober.”
“I’m not joking, Gibson. I don’t know if I can be with a man who drinks.”
I rush to her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
She blows out a breath and stares off in the distance. “I have a bad record with men and relationships.”
I grasp her hands. “And I have no record with women and relationships. Together we’ll figure it out.”
“You’re sure?” The insecurity in her eyes nearly brings me to my knees. My sassy girl should never be insecure.
I pull her close and wrap my arms around her. “I wouldn’t ask you to take a chance on me if I wasn’t sure.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
My head lowers, my mouth intent on meeting hers, on tasting her again. But she places a hand in front of her mouth to stop me.
“But no sex.”
I’m confused. “No sex?”
She nods. “No sex. I’ve always jumped into the physical part of a relationship and then regretted it later when it turned out the guy I’m ‘seeing’ is a complete meathead who thinks women should cater to his every whim.”
“I don’t want you to cater to my every whim. And I’m not a meathead.”
She raises her eyebrows. “You aren’t? You didn’t offer to bankroll my business in front of the entire town?”
“I was desperate for your attention.”
“Desperate?”
“I hadn’t seen you for days.”
“And whose fault was that?”
“Mine. I’m the idiot here.”
“It’s good you recognize your faults.”
I chuckle. “And I suppose you don’t have any?”
“Well, it is kind of annoying how often I’m right.”
I kiss her nose. “I love your modesty.”
“Being awesome is a heavy burden.”
“Okay. No sex.”
Her shoulders relax. “Thank you.”
I frown. Did she think I’d push her for sex? Does she not know me better by now? Maybe it is better we refrain from the physical part until we know each other better.
Those are words I never thought I’d ever think. I’m enjoying a lot of firsts with Mercy.
“I won’t push you for sex,” I growl.
“It’s not you. It’s me. You might say I don’t have much impulse control when it comes to you.”
I grin. “When it comes to me? You can’t resist me.”
She rolls her eyes and pushes me away. “Do you want to go for a ride in the Shelby or is your ego too big to fit inside?”
I walk to the passenger door. “We might as well go for a ride since other rides are now off the table.” We settle in the car. “Speaking of which, how long are other rides off the table?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I know.”
Is it possible to get instantaneous blue balls? If so, I have them. Mercy is going to test my control, but she’s worth it. I know she is.
“What about first base? Second base?” I waggle my eyebrows. “Third base?”
“Oh my god. How old are you again?”
“I’m thirty. Do you want to card me?”
“Kissing is okay. But no touching,” she orders as she switches on the car. Her eyes light with excitement as she revs the engine.
“I no longer care why you bought this car,” she says as she switches to first gear and we shoot out of the driveway.
I quickly don my seatbelt and settle in for the ride. I’m not an adrenaline junkie the way Jett is but I do enjoy speed.
But what I enjoy most of all is watching how happy Mercy is as she drives the muscle car. Her smile stretches from ear to ear and her eyes sparkle with excitement.
“Hold on tight!” She shouts.
Oh, baby, I am holding on tight. I’m going to hold on tight to you until you fall for me the way I’ve fallen for you.