“My best friend Daryl and I got obsessed with stunt driving when we were kids,” I explained. “His uncle even let us take his old car to the demolition derby tracks outside of our town and speed around. It turned out I had a real talent for it. Even the old dude who owned the track said so.”
“Stunt driving!” Franklin said, looking excited. “Is that what you were doing in Los Angeles?”
“Kind of,” I answered. “Lots of the same skills, for sure. But mainly, I was just speeding deliveries through the city and getting important people from one appointment to another.” I dropped the box on the pavement, then shrugged. “It’s not as exciting as flipping a car over a cruise boat for an action movie, but flying through the city is still a valuable skill.”
I didn’t mention the other parts of the story. The fact that Daryl found his way quickly to a life of organized crime and the reality that, even though I didn’t know the specifics of what I was carrying in my car for him, I knew that if I got caught with it, I would be in major trouble.
That was my other skill. I could keep my damn mouth shut. Need me to pick up some strange man, drenched in sweat and clearly panicking, then speed him across town to an undisclosed location? I’ll avoid the cops and get him there in double the time, and never say a word about it. Got a sensitive delivery that you need to slip by the authorities and maybe a few competitors, too? I’ll have the boxes unloaded before you even say my name.
I shook my head. “Anyway, I left that all behind. I’ll figure out some new job now that I’m in Seattle.”
Franklin nodded, then caught my eye. “I’m glad you were safe, anyway. I have to say, if Rory were speeding his car through the city every night, I’d be up at home, worrying myself to death.” His face tightened. “Or Ava. God! I’ll need to make sure she doesn’t take an interest in racing sports.”
I laughed. “You’re probably good. I just had an addiction to getting my heartrate pumping when I was a teenager.”
“But no more?” Franklin asked. “You manage to break the adrenaline cycle?”
“I can still use a fix every now and then.” I grinned.
Franklin chuckled, then joined me in the alley, plopping a couple boxes down. He pulled a hankie from his pocket to wipe his face, then nodded my way. “I almost forgot! Considering you and I are going to keep working together for a bit, Rory and I thought we might have you over for dinner.”
I tilted my head to the side, surprised by the invitation. “For dinner? With you and your family?”
“Ava won’t be there,” he said quickly. “I believe I mentioned she spends a few nights a week with my cousin Colleen. But considering how helpful you’ve been, Rory and I thought it would be a nice gesture.”
Desire lit up inside of me. Dinner with the geek daddies? I didn’t think I had been that helpful, but damn. There was nothing quite like the thrill of speeding down the expressway, weaving in and out of traffic, fully aware that another car was on my tail. But the slow game of flirting with these guys and seeing whether they returned the interest was a close second.
I was surprised, though, that my brain didn’t immediately go to the filthiest of fantasies. I didn’t stop to obsess over the way their bellies would feel if I rubbed them together or to imagine their fingers working inside my hole. Instead, I just felt weirdly touched.
“You guys want to have me over for dinner? That’s nice, Franklin. I’ll be there.”
“Friday night? Maybe six?”
“Friday night at six,” I said with a smile. “I’ll drive my TardiFragg.”
Franklin opened his mouth to say something, one finger poised in the air, then stopped himself. “Great! We’ll be looking forward to it.”
