Chapter 18 #2
I snorted. “You should know me better than that.” I bumped his shoulder and stood back with him so we could admire the car shoulder to shoulder. “I’d have picked this one anyway. She’s gorgeous.”
“Maybe you can get in good with the owner, and he’ll take you for a ride like you never got with your cousin’s.”
“Think so?” I glanced around us. People were far too close, so I lowered my voice. “Maybe even fuck on the back seat like a proper teenager?”
Luke flushed and raised his brows high above his sunglasses.
“Like that?”
He swallowed so hard his throat clicked.
No one was around us, so I kept going. He backed up as I stalked closer until he bumped into the rear quarter panel. I didn’t touch him. I wasn’t the asshole to push his physical boundaries in public, but no one was near enough to hear.
“Tease you just right ’til you’re beggin’ to be released. Get you primed and lubed so I slip right in. Hands braced on the roof, feet on the mats, and goin’ full throttle as you ride my dick like it’s the wild-ass mustang.”
“The fuck, Asher,” he hissed and twisted left and right.
“No one heard me,” I laughed.
“My dick certainly did.”
“Yeah? Bet he liked it.”
He stared at me long and hard, then took a deep breath. “I thought I had a better chance of keeping my hands off you in a crowded place like this.”
“Hmm. How much room is in the back seat of the Range Rover? I don’t need a classic car to turn you out.”
Luke snickered and ducked his chin. God, he was so hot when he blushed.
We left the Shelby and finished walking through the cars—uncomfortably so below the belt.
At noon, they started announcing winners for the categories, with the coveted Best in Show at the end.
Of course, Luke’s car won. It wasn’t until late afternoon, with the cars being carefully driven off into the sunset or loaded onto trailers, that I wondered how he got the car here.
“I have a company I use to transport it for me,” he said as we walked back in the direction of the car. “My family has a car collection as part of our assets. This one is the first of what hopefully becomes my own collection.”
Collection. Not just one. Luke and his family were a different level of rich.
That’d been apparent since moment one. Exactly how rich?
I didn’t care. Honestly, I didn’t want to know.
Not really. Beyond all the zeros in his account, Luke was a man.
A man who wanted me as much as I wanted him. What else mattered?
“Do you ever drive it?” I asked.
“Hell yeah. It’s fun, but for this, I don’t want it getting dirty on the way here.”
Luke stopped to talk to a man who had just gotten his car into a heavy-duty enclosed trailer.
I stood off to the side, not getting involved since I was here as a “friend” only.
A few others in matching polos I assumed belonged to the transport company approached them and joined the conversation, so I moseyed farther.
“Fuck him. I hate it when he shows up to these things.”
I turned at the angry voice. Two men were packing away folding chairs and coolers as they threw glares at Luke’s back.
“Yeah, I’d win, too, if I had a corporation backing my rebuilds.”
“Does it matter?” I piped up, unwilling to let them get away with shitting on his efforts.
The pair eyed me, then tsked. “Yeah. I did all the work on this myself.” One man with a worn Bama cap covering his gray hair waved at the Chevelle beside him. “Took me years. He probably had that thing restored in weeks with the amount of money he threw at it.”
I hadn’t asked if Luke did the work himself. He didn’t strike me as the type to get his hands dirty, but he had also changed my mind about other preconceived ideas I’d had about him.
I lifted my chin and fisted my hands at my sides. “Regardless of how long it took, someone did the work, and why not show off their efforts? You can’t deny it’s a beautiful car, and it’s bein’ taken care of as it should be. And neither could the judges.”
“The fuck do you know, you little shit? You even old enough to drive?”
“Dude, I ain’t attackin’ you personally or your car, which is nice, by the way, even given the asshole who owns it.”
The guy stepped closer, but the other man grabbed his shoulder, so instead, he pointed at my chest. “Get on outta here and shut up about things you ain’t got no business in.”
“You have no idea about my business or the Shelby’s. Maybe take your own advice and shut the fuck up.”
The man broke loose from his friend’s hold. He shoved me back with fingertips poking hard enough at my chest to bruise. “That smart mouth’s gonna get you in trouble one day, kid.”
Yeah, probably, but folks who spouted shit about others’ hard work, no matter if they liked it or not, just got to me. Why couldn’t they appreciate it like every other person who passed that car today? Because their own wasn’t getting the attention?
The other guy, a bit more levelheaded, grabbed his friend again and to me said, “Best if you get on. Thanks for comin’ out and appreciatin’ the cars.”
“Yeah,” I said, a bit calmer as I rubbed at my chest. “Thanks for showin’ off yours. I’m sure it made someone smile today. Maybe even reminded them of a good memory.”
The guy in the Bama cap stopped fighting the hold his friend had on him and dropped his chin. “This was my daddy’s. He never got it fully restored before he died.”
I took a step back. “Bet he’d be real proud of your work.”
Bama cap nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, kid.”
Luke was finished and waiting when I caught up to him.
“Where’d you run off to?” he asked.
I shrugged, not back in a good mood yet. “I wasn’t sure if I should stick around while you talked shop or whatever.” I huffed and put my hands on my cocked hip. “I’m not sure how to act when other people are involved.”
Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure either.” He watched me for a moment, then asked, “Are you okay? Is the secret bothering you?”