Page 56 of Lying Lainey

“That is an Alpha Lonist 33,” Halstead shared. “It was a race car back in the day boasting speeds of sixty miles an hour in six seconds, the fastest in its day and age, I’ll have you know.”

“So its looks match the goods under the hood,” I teased.

“You know cars?” Halstead asked.

“If you mean how to drive one and where to put the gas and oil, then yes, I know cars,” I answered with a completely deadpan serious face.

Halstead gave me an exasperated look. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered. “Want to take her for a ride, see if she’s as fast as they say?”

“She?” I asked, bemused. “Are all your cars women? Do I need to be concerned?”

“No, there are only a few that I’ve determined earned the title of ‘she.’ Most of the others are male, for damn sure, but there are some cars like this one that you need to prove just how skilled you are to be able to drive. It’s not… can you drive a car or even a stick shift? No, no, it’s can you speak the right language to unlock the car’s true potential and see the hidden gem inside,” Halstead enlightened as he lifted the door latch, and I gasped as the doors opened backward instead of out toward you.

“That is just too fucking cool,” I blurted, rushing over to see how it did that.

He just chuckled, but the delight in his eyes shone brightly. “They call them suicide doors.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I muttered, unable to get over the whole thing.

“Neither have I,” Halstead said in a low voice full of double meaning.

Looking up at him, I found he wasn’t even looking at the car but staring at me. “Okay, Mr. Smooth Talker, I think I’ve had about all I can handle in that department for now. You said something about taking a drive?”

“Hop in,” he motioned.

Wasting no time, I ducked under the door and settled into the seat. It was low, making me feel like my ass was going to drag on the ground, but magically it didn’t. Halstead walked over to a lockbox hanging on the wall, grabbed a set of keys, and opened the massive garage door. Once he was settled, he flipped a switch, checked the gear shift, and grinned at me.

“Ready? Warning… this baby is vocal,” he cautioned.

I gave him a thumbs up as I clicked my seat belt securely into the buckle. He hadn’t been lying when he said the car was loud. Then again, we were still in the building, so the sound echoed off the walls, making it even louder. Once we were outside, it toned down quite a bit, but I didn’t think we would be having any heart-to-heart conversations unless we wanted to yell at each other.

We journeyed down the winding driveway I didn’t remember from when we arrived. The sprawling green grass on either side with a smattering of trees made me feel like I was in some period romance novel. As we approached the gate, Halstead lifted a clicker remote, and the gates started to open slowly. I really should have been prepared for what would happen once we passed the gate, but I’d been too relaxed taking in the scenery to be bothered. There was a slight pause as we reached the main road then pulled onto it but came to a stop.

I glanced at Halstead, but he was just smiling like a fool seconds before the rear tires started to squeal and then—bam. We were shooting off like a rocket down the road, engine roaring, wind tugging at my hair, and laughter bursting out of us. The speedometer was maxed out, but Halstead didn’t ease up. Instead, he kept that pedal to the floor as we twisted and twined through the once-upon-a-time farmlands. Then the fields dropped away in favor of the tall, wispy coastal grasses that danced in the breeze we created passing them.

Even though I’d spent eighteen years of my life in this city, I’d only been to the coast three times. It wasn’t something you normally did with foster kids, and Trent sure as shit didn’t think we deserved an experience as nice as all that. The first two times were with school trips, having won some contest or met some goal the teacher had set giving us a few hours in the sun and sand as a reward. The last time I went was after I found out Trent got put in jail, and I gathered anything that would trace me back to him and burned it like any melodramatic teen would.

Halstead turned on the radio, and it was set to an oldies rock station which he jammed out to, tapping out the rhythm on the steering wheel and enjoying the moment. I could see why he liked vintage cars—they were simple. There were none of the bells and whistles to detract from the simple joys of going for a drive. Taking a page out of his book to enjoy the moment, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, letting the sun warm my face and breath in the fresh ocean air.

I was startled as a hand grasped mine, but when my eyes snapped open, I found it was Halstead. He took my hand and placed it on the gear shift with our fingers intertwined. This way, he could hold my hand and change gears when needed, something I found highly adorable. I gave him a soft smile before I went back to my relaxed position and allowed my brain to go blank as we drove.

Time seemed to stop while we were in this car. There was no syndicate, fear of being pregnant, worry about the future, or what would happen once I destroyed the code. All there was, was being in the moment. That was until we stopped. Cracking open an eye, I found we were in a parking lot facing the water with a beach in front of us and a tiki hut off to the right with people milling around it.

“You stay here. I’ll be right back,” Halstead instructed.

My brows rose as I watched him run toward the hut. He joined the line of people, and it took him a bit to get whatever it was they were selling. When he came back, he held a coconut in one hand and a massive bowl of shaved ice covered in fruit with something white drizzled over it.

“Do you mind opening up the trunk? There should be a blanket inside. I always make sure my cars have one since I love to come here on the spur of the moment,” he shared.

Climbing out of the car, I followed his instructions on getting the trunk unlatched, which was far more complicated than I could have imagined. There were, in fact, two blankets, so I grabbed both and followed him out onto the beach, where we were close enough to the water but not too close. I took the items from him as he sat down then took them back so I could join him. When he saw that I was sitting next to him, he muttered something I couldn’t hear under his breath, set down the bowl of ice, and tugged my arm until I was sitting between his legs.

“Here, now you hold this,” he ordered, plopping the shaved ice in my lap. “It’s a healthy dessert, so eat all you want. There is fruit, sweetened condensed milk, and shaved ice. What could possibly be bad about that? Then for a beverage, I have fresh coconut milk with watermelon puree mixed in for flavor.”

“Did you plan this?” I questioned as I unearthed one of the spoons from the tropical fruit. “This seems far too perfect for it to be a coincidence.”

“No, I didn’t plan it, but as I said, this is a place I often go to on the spur of the moment. Once I saw how relaxed you were with the drive, I figured why not make the trek out here?” he reasoned.

My mouth exploded with the fruits’ flavor and the ice’s crispness, making me moan. “That is fucking incredible.”