Slow Ride (Fast Track #5)(51)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“I mean, Lady is like the most annoying priss ever. She’s not innocent, she’s just dumb, and that’s not charming at all. Seriously, like what would Tramp even see in her? She has an old-lady voice on top of it all.”

Diesel laughed. “I agree with you on all points, sweetheart. I don’t know. Maybe it just seemed very Romeo and Juliet when you were a kid. Those stray dogs probably seemed exciting.”

“I remember being terrified by the rat at the end. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to live up to my expectations.”

“It’s meant for kids, not thirty-year-old women.”

“Does that make me jaded? Cynical?” She looked a little frightened of that possibility. But she still managed to interject, “And I’m not thirty yet.”

“You’re not jaded. Cynical. Or thirty. You’re a grown woman who knows that relationships don’t work that way.” People didn’t fall in love in a day. It took at least three weeks. He should know.

“What, that total opposites could actually work?” Tuesday tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I think sometimes opposites work out just fine.” They were verbal opposites. She talked nonstop and he didn’t. “I was thinking more about the fact that they decide to commit to each other and a litter of puppies when they don’t even know each other.”

“That’s true. Not to mention he’s patronizing.”

Since his candy was all gone, Diesel reached over and stuck his hand in her popcorn bucket. This was a perfect opportunity to tweak her. “I think he’s just being protective. She obviously needs a firm hand.”

“What?” She totally rose to the bait and shrieked at him, smacking his hand. “And get out of my popcorn! How could you even say that—”

He chewed and grinned at the same time.

“You’re an ass. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”

“Yep. Works every time.” Diesel hit the button to make his seat go back. “Now put your popcorn down and make out with me. That’s why people really come to the drive-in.”

“Good call.” Tuesday put the popcorn container in the backseat.

“Why are you putting it back there?”

“Because we get rowdy when we make out. You know I’ll end up kicking it if I leave it up here.”

“You’re always thinking, babe. That’s why I—”

Diesel cut himself off. Shit, he’d almost said love. That’s why he loved her.

“Why you what?” She looked at him expectantly, her eyebrows raised.

He coughed. “Sorry, I choked on the popcorn. What I was trying to say is that’s why I worship you.” He knew she would take that as humorous.

Which she did. “As well you should. I’m very worshipable.”

“Then get over here and let me at it.”

“Why do I always have to be the one to come to you?” she complained. “Isn’t that patronizing?”

He could argue or placate or he could just lean over into her space and kiss her, which is what he did. She was midrant still when his mouth covered hers. Her squawk of indignation dissolved into a sigh. Diesel loved the way she acquiesced to him, the way she just gave up her position and embraced the passion that always sparked between them. Her protests were just token gestures anyway, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Which was every minute of every damn day, it seemed like.

Sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, Diesel coaxed her to open up her mouth.

“Mm, have I told you I love your beard?” she murmured. “It’s soft. Sexy.”

“Everything about you is sexy.”

It was. God, he couldn’t get enough of her. Diesel took her mouth again in a searing kiss. What had started out as just the need for some casual drive-in making out turned into a deep, urgent need to taste her, touch her. Consume her.

Her reaction met his and her hands raked his hair, her body leaning forward, seeking contact with his. The buzz of the movie sound track was to his left, but it couldn’t distract him, not when his tongue was pushing into her mouth, and her hands were sliding down his chest, scraping along his pecs. He tugged at the bottom of her dress, wanting access to her smooth skin, and he was rewarded with a low moan in his ear.

Oh, yeah. He was going to score at the drive-in. A teenage ambition finally realized.

Until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus.” He moved back from Tuesday, quickly removing his hand from under the dress.

“What? Where are you going? Get back here.”

Tuesday reached for him, but Diesel shook his head. “Look behind you, sweetheart.”

“Huh? What?” Tuesday turned and let out a startled shriek. “Holy crap, we have a Peeping Tom.”

There was a boy, about eight years old, standing outside their car, watching them with round, curious eyes, tearing a piece off of his licorice with his teeth.

“I guess we’re the show.” Diesel was amused. He could imagine he’d have done the same thing when he was that age. Little boys were curious.

“Okay, that’s just disturbing.” Tuesday glanced out the window again. “And he’s not leaving.”

The kid had backed up two feet, but he was still checking out Tuesday like he had seen an alien. A very appealing alien.

Diesel started laughing. “I think you’ve made a new friend.”

Tuesday unrolled her window. “Hi there. I hear your mother calling you. You’d better get back to her.”

That made him laugh even harder. “Seriously? Just leave the poor kid be.”

The boy turned and sauntered off in no particular hurry.

“What? He needed to go. That was creepy. He was watching us make out.”

“Well, we’re not making out anymore. So let’s get back to that.” He dropped his hand to her knee. They had just been getting to the good stuff.

“Absolutely not.” She picked his hand up and moved it to his own thigh.

He had no desire to be feeling up his own leg. “Why not?”

“I feel violated.”

“It was a kid! Who cares?”

“More like a future Green River Killer. Where’s my popcorn?” She reached into the back and recovered her box and started tossing pieces in her mouth, eyes trained on the movie screen.

His amusement evaporated. Not only was he not getting any he was going to have to sit through the rest of the cartoon. The characters were singing something warbly and off key, and while probably entertaining for a six-year-old, Diesel was thinking he’d prefer a kick in the nuts to another hour of this.