The Wild Ones (The Wild Ones #1)(12)
Author: M. Leighton

Men!

I excuse myself to go put on some jeans. A few minutes later, Brent and I are making our way to the stable. I’m really nervous for some reason. Excited, too.

I swallow a growl of frustration. It irks me that Trick gets under my skin like this. I’m supposed to be focusing on Brent.

Brent, Brent, Brent!

It’s my mantra all the way to big stable doors. I know I should be holding his hand, but for some reason, I just can’t make myself do it. That irks me, too.

Sooty is in the office area that sits just inside the entrance.

“Well, look who it is,” he says when he sees us. Sooty walks over to us and holds his hand out for Brent. “Haven’t seen you around in a while, son.”

Brent smiles. “Just been busy with work, Sooty. How you been?”

“I’m still kickin’.”

A throaty motor starts up at the back of the stable. We all turn in that direction just in time to see Trick pulling away in a badass classic Mustang. Probably something like a Boss or a Cobra, definitely something my dad would like.

As he passes the open side door of the stable, I see him look in. His eyes meet mine. Even across the distance, I feel the…turbulence. That’s the best way I can describe it. It takes my breath for a second.

When he drives on, I turn back to Sooty, hoping Brent didn’t recognize Trick. Sooty is watching me closely. Very closely. The edges of his thin lips turn up the tiniest bit.

“Well, well, well,” he says.

I look away from him, too, back at Brent. His eyes are darting between me and Sooty.

“Well what?”

Sooty clears his throat. “Well, I guess we’d better get you two saddled up and out the door before dinner time. You came to ride, right?”

Sooty winks at me.

What’s that old man up to?

Sooty acts perfectly normal after that, leaving me to wonder if I had just imagined his strange behavior.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – Trick

If a car could be a soul mate, my Mustang would be mine. Nothing in the world can soothe me like doing fifty-five on a curvy road, the wind pouring in and the music pouring out. She responds quickly to my slightest touch—I’ve tweaked the steering to near-perfection—and she hugs the turns as we snake our way through the country.

I don’t really have a destination in mind. I just want to drive for a while and clear my head. It’s not a matter of not being able to have Cami. Not really. I’m pretty sure if I pursued her, I could have her. At least I think so.

No girl is worth you losing this job, though. No girl! You’re the only thing standing between Mom and Grace and destitution. And they’ve lost enough already. We all have.

After almost two hours of reiterating my priorities, which keep getting high-jacked when Cami comes around, I find myself at Rusty’s garage. The lights are on and his car’s out front. Rusty’s always working. Well, to Rusty, it’s more like playing. Kind of like me working with horses. When you’re doing something you love, you can’t really call it “work.”

“What up, man?” He rolls out from under the front of a T-Bird and greets me with a cock-eyed grin.

“Just…out.” I sit in a chair that he’d obviously been resting in at some point, drinking a beer.

“Uh-oh. Don’t want to go home. Can’t stay at work. You’re homeless for the moment. That it?”

I shrug even though Rusty’s already wheeled back under the car. He rolls back out and frowns up at me.

“What are you doing here so late?” I ask.

“Got a guy coming in with his ‘Vette in about a half hour or so.”

“The guy from the field party?”

“Yep.”

I nod.

Rusty narrows his eyes on me. “All right. What is it?”

I lean back and exhale. Rusty knows me too well.

“I’m just still getting adjusted to the way things are now. That’s all.”

“Is it about the money?”

I close my eyes. It seems that everything boils down to the money. My entire life has been reduced to the singular pursuit of money above all else.

“That must be a ‘yes.’ And she still won’t let you sell the car?”

“Nope. And it would solve everything.”

“Well, you can’t really blame her in a way, though.”

“Yeah, but there’s a time when sentimentality has to take a back seat to practicality.”

“Nice! Spoken like a true college kid.”

I can’t help but wonder if I’d ever get to finish.

So close…

“Well, it is what it is. I just need to see us through the next year or so until I can get some things worked out. Maybe then…”

“I hope so, bro,” Rusty says. We sit in silence for a minute, something Rus is rarely ever comfortable with, before he casually slides back under the car without another word. He’s already overextended himself.

As usual, he has music on while he works. I close my eyes and listen for a few minutes before my thoughts start crowding in on me again. I’m just not the type to be idle with my musings unless they’re about some sort of trouble I can fix. Right now, there is no fix. This is the fix.

I get up and pull my shirt over my head. No sense risking getting grease stains all over yet another shirt.

“What can I help with, man? I’m tired of thinking.”

“Why don’t you get under the hood and loosen the bolts from those brackets.”

Grabbing a socket set from the workbench, I pop the hood and get to work.

After about five minutes, Rus and I start talking shop and my mind is adequately occupied. The garage bay doors are open and the slightly cooler night air is coming in, the music is still playing and my troubles are, for the time being, somewhere else.

Until the breeze carries in the faint scent of strawberry. I rise up from under the hood and there, standing in the garage entrance, is Cami.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN – Cami

I can’t decide whether I’m thrilled or frustrated when I walk into the garage with Brent and I see Trick come out from underneath the hood of the car he’s working on. I am a little frustrated; constantly running into him is making it harder to concentrate on Brent. And it’s certainly not helping me to not think about Trick, which is what I really need to do. But mostly, I’m thrilled. Excited. I hate to admit it, but I am.

He’s shirtless. Again. He’s not sweaty or dirty or anything. He’s just all bare skin and well-defined muscles. And there’s something so sexy about the way his jeans hang on his hips. I can even see those little dents at the bottom of his stomach. If I’m being honest, I really just want to walk right over to him and touch them. With my tongue.