“I like speed.” Flyboy grinned as he flipped the car keys into the air. “And I test drive vehicles for anyone who is kind enough to lend me fast things.”
T. had told her about Flyboy’s love of anything that flew. He was the youngest of the original COS commandos, enthusiastic and eager.
“Is that how you do everything? In hot pursuit?” she teased.
Flyboy laid an arm over her shoulders and hugged her close to him. Lowering his voice, he said, “It can be hot, but it doesn’t have to be fast all the time, babe.”
Helen laughed, shaking her head. He was incorrigible.
“Look who’s going out,” Flyboy added.
Helen turned and watched as Alex Diamond approached, motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He looked just as lethal in a leather jacket.
“We’re bumping into each other a lot today,” Helen remarked. “You lunching, too?”
Alex studied them for a moment. “I didn’t think you were allowed to eat anything other than the crap they feed you in there,” he said, not even pausing as he walked by. Clearly, he didn’t expect a conversation.
Meaning alcohol, caffeine, ibuprofen…Helen went through a mental list of all the no-nos she had to observe. She shrugged. What was new about her boring life? She caught sight of the motorcycle parked nearby. Nice machine.
“At least I can still speed, right?” she called. That was probably the longest sentence the man had ever said to her.
Diamond turned. “Good luck, Helen,” he said quietly.
“Thanks.” Helen frowned as she looked at his back.
“What is it?” Flyboy rubbed her shoulder.
“Nothing.” Except Alex Diamond’s stance, the way he stood so still, reminded her of…She shook her head mentally. “Just one of those passing thoughts. Now, let’s see you test drive this baby, Flyboy.”
He unlocked the car and bowed extravagantly as she got in. “Zero to sixty in five point five secs, sweetheart. We’re going maximum horsepower.”
Helen batted her eyes. “Oh, my. The things you do to a girl’s heart rate.”
Helen liked to analyze a man by the car he drove. This expensive vehicle might not be Flyboy’s but he looked very comfortable in it. His hands ran around the steering wheel as if he were giving it a caress. He made some quick adjustments, then turned to make sure she had her seat belt on. He winked as he leaned over, pulling on the strap.
“Just double-checking out of habit,” he said.
She had a feeling that he did a lot of double-checking. In his job, the tiniest mistake could be fatal. The way he moved around, looking in control, he seemed to be about to take the car for a spin in the heavens. Like any sportster, the interior was more like the inside of an aircraft, with just enough legroom and head space, and the instrument panel lit up by all kinds of dials.
“What’s the fastest speed you’ve driven in a car?” she asked, curious.
“Two hundred, two hundred and twenty.” That was traveling the length of a football field a second. “Scared?”
She arched a brow at him. He grinned. The car started with a smooth growl, like a wild animal ready to take off. Flyboy gave her a grin and an A-OK signal. “You ready?” he yelled above the engine.
“Show me what you got,” she challenged back.
Minutes later, they were flying down the scenic route. Not that there was much of that to see, Helen mused, as everything zipped by at an alarming blur. She glanced at the man beside her, his attention totally focused on the road. He changed gears and accelerated smoothly, one hand on the wheel and the other still on the stick shift. She watched the speedometer going up into the red zone.
She liked fast cars, always had. And she was totally fascinated at the ease with which Flyboy was handling the vehicle. Minimum movement, as if the car was an extension of his body. Just a totally relaxed man, enjoying something that would have most people at the edge of their seats. He made her forget how noisy these cars were. There was joy radiating from him that would make a woman jealous.
She didn’t interrupt his pleasure, preferring to let him take her wherever he wanted. This was probably a side of him that he seldom shared, when he dropped that heartthrob image and became pure pilot. Here, that teasing streak had taken on a quiet intensity that she had never seen in him before.
When he finally slowed down, the car purring to a more manageable speed, he turned and flashed her a smile sexy enough to curl her toes. The man was definitely turned on by speed.
“Thanks,” he said, simply.
She understood. They had a love for living on the edge and not caring about the consequences. “Was it good for you, too?” she teased.
