He smirked. “You didn’t seem to mind two minutes ago when you were sucking face with—” The sound of Travis gagging cut off his words.
“I’ll make sure he gets off the property and the gate is latched.” Lorhaven redirected.
“Would you mind checking in with security out there too?” Trent asked, voice much lower than before.
“Will do,” Lorhaven replied just as quietly before jogging over to the Corvette.
The large flatbed started up, the rumbling engine loud.
I glanced around for Andi. She was with London and Sophie, throwing water balloons at the boys. “Peanut, you wanna go for a ride?”
“She’s soaking wet!” Travis complained. “Think of the interior.”
Spoken like a true gearhead.
“Later,” Andi yelled, launching a balloon at Asher.
“We’ll be right back,” I called.
Rimmel waved and nodded because Andi was already back to her game.
The flatbed and the Corvette headed off down the paved road between the main house and our house so it could turn around, and we went toward the new Bronco.
It was pretty sweet, with a glossy black finish, matte black removable top, and custom lift kit to accommodate the thirty-five-inch all-terrain tires that were upgraded with a set of rims I was pretty sure weren’t supposed to hit the market until spring. The word BRONCO was blacked out across the grill between the round headlights, and the rock sliders on the sides were heavy-duty.
Gamble obviously had impeccable taste.
“The door isn’t latched,” Travis said, pointing to the driver’s door. He was right. It wasn’t fully latched.
“The guy who unloaded it probably didn’t shut it all the way,” I said, going over to peer in the windows. The interior was all black too. “I call shotgun!” I hollered, running around the back as Trav climbed into the driver’s seat.
Trent was already there, holding the passenger door open for me. “As if I’d ever dream of taking shotgun,” he teased.
I grinned and slid in past him, making sure to brush the front of his jeans on the way. His chuckle cut off when he shut the door and slid into the back.
“I can’t believe you let him get me a car,” Travis said, hands gripping the steering wheel as he gazed around in awe.
“No one lets Gamble do anything,” Trent said from the back seat.
“Yeah, so make sure you call him Grampy a few times just to drive him crazy,” I said.
Travis clicked the seatbelt into place and started it up. “If we upgrade the intake and exhaust, it will sound even better.”
Did I mention I really loved this kid?
“Better get rolling before Lorhaven and the flatbed come back up.” Trent reminded him.
Travis took off down the road, excitement pouring off him in waves. I gazed around the interior, snooped through the glove box, and noted the heavy-duty floor mats.
“Here they come,” Trav said, and I looked through the windshield to see the truck and Vette coming up the road.
“Good thing she’s got big tires,” I said, and Travis cut the wheel, going off-road and up through the grass.
“This is fire!” Travis said. “Seriously. No cap.”
For us oldies, that just meant he really liked it. Like seriously.
I looked it up on that click-clock app they all love so much.
