ChapterTwo
SKYE
I'm still dealing with the effect of Seth's proximity to my body when he speaks again. "Come on Skye. Let's get you home. I'm not towing this hunk of junk right now. While I wouldn't mind sending it over the edge, I don't want to follow it down."
It takes me a second to realize what he's said. "But I can't leave Pinkie out here on her own. What if someone steals her?"
His raucous laughter at my suggestion immediately has my hackles up. "Hey, she’s not that bad. She’s always there for me." On seeing the incredulity on his face, I add a disclaimer. "Well, almost always."
He doesn’t appear convinced. "Is she even insured?" The look on his face tells me he's already decided no insurer with a modicum of business sense would go near my darling car. I also can't help but notice he's acknowledged Pinkie Pie is a girl.
"Of course she's insured!"
He shrugs, as though the reality of him taking me home is now a done deal. "Well then, what's the problem? Even if someone is crazy enough to try to steal her, they won't get far." He starts laughing again, before adding, "Unless they disengage the park brake, and then it’d serve ‘em right."
Of course, he’s right. I also know that thoughts of sitting in the cab next to him will have me wanting to help myself to his gorgeousness. And that is so not happening, at least not without major embarrassment when he turns me down flat, as I know he will.
He’ll be polite, but his having manners won't lessen my chagrin at being rejected.
I take my time collecting my things, all while experiencing a curious mix of dread and anticipation. I hate it when someone invites me along out of pity, with this happening all too often in my life. I'm not socially inept. Rather, I'm an introvert, which, I’ll admit, almost amounts to the same thing.
Even at Skye High Pies, my bakery, I tend to stay out back, leaving my team to serve customers. Unfortunately, there's something about Seth that has me doubting he’ll let me get away with it. That once we're safely in that monster truck of his, he'll want to make conversation.
Just thinking about it has me coming out in a cold sweat. On standing next to the passenger door of his truck, my cold sweat turns to terror as something else becomes apparent. The first step of his truck is high enough that there isn't a chance I can climb up there on my own.
And short of Seth using the winch, he'll have to lift me. That's if he can. I don't bake all those yummy pies without occasionally trying them to see if they're up to standard.
Okay, more than occasionally. Suddenly, his knowing I have a thing for him is the least of my worries.
SETH
As I lean across to undo her seat belt, the need to turn and claim those plump lips of hers is overwhelming, but I resist. It’ll be hell on earth having her next to me in the truck as it is.
On hearing her sharp intake of breath, I back out and stand as fast as I can. That my being close to her is as unpleasant as I’ve always imagined has been borne home. Why hadn't I simply asked her to undo the seat belt herself?
Because you wanted a chance to get close to her, that's why, you sad bastard.
It isn't until she's grabbed her things and inched her way out of her car to stand next to me that I’m reminded what a cutie she is. She only just reaches my shoulder. To be fair though, at six-four, most people are short where I’m concerned.
I stand back, giving her the space to lock the car, before walking over to the passenger side of my cab. It's only while standing there that I realize I've got a problem.
There isn't a chance Skye can get into the cab without help from me. And thoughts of having my hands all over her body have my cock readying itself for action. It never wastes time when Skye is around.
Damn it, what the hell had I been thinking when I said we couldn't tow her car tonight. Even though I said we'd have to leave it there, I knew otherwise. It would be easy enough for me to turn my truck around and hook up to the back of her car. No risk of going over the cliff that way.
Instead, I take her bags and stow them in the footwell before looking down at her. Part of me is all too eager for what's about to happen. "Ah, I'll need to help you up."
Only after a brief nod from her do I place my hands on either side of her waist in readiness. It's as if my own personal touch paper has been lit. She's every bit as soft and yielding as I've always imagined, a real woman; one who fills my hands beautifully. It’s as if that’s where she's meant to be, where she belongs.
My thoughts out of control, I move on to dreaming about how other parts of her would feel under my hands, under my mouth. When she stiffens next to me, it's as if a bucket of cold water has been chucked over me. I'm lying to myself if I think I've got a chance with someone as beautiful as Skye.
She won't be interested in a damaged nobody like me. The only woman who'd be interested in me these days would be a psychologist writing a paper on P.T.S.D. I'm a text book case of how active duty can screw someone over for life.
