“I certainly understand.”
“When I returned a moment later with the food, she was hunched against the seat, pouting. Thinking it would make her feel better, I pointed out that no one but me drives the Porsche. Not even you.”
That news didn’t settle well. “Does this mean you wouldn’t let me drive your car if I asked?”
“No, of course not.”
But there was enough doubt in his tone to make me wonder.
“So when exactly did Summer start calling you names?”
“Right after she found out you’d never driven my Porsche.”
“It sounds as though you think more of that damn car than me.”
“I never knew you wanted to drive my Porsche.”
“I didn’t…but now I do. Very much.”
“Then let’s go for a spin.”
This was silly. I really didn’t care about driving his car.
It was the principle.
Plus it had a stick, and I was no good at shifting.
I had to be sure he trusted me with his precious car.
He took his keys and slapped them into my palm.
I had my answer. I grabbed the keys, but after a few seconds, I handed them back to him.
He shook his head. “I thought we were going for a ride.”
“I just needed to know you’d let me drive your Porsche. I feel better now.”
When he nabbed the keys, his fingers captured mine. “Nothing is more important to me than you.”
“Not even your Porsche?”
“Let me think about that for a minute,” he said with a teasing grin.
I reciprocated with an elbow to his ribs. But it was all in jest. Because he’d proven to me that I mattered most.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder—would he still have been smiling if I’d really taken his pride and joy for a ride?
We sat and ate pizza, discussed my job and his. He wouldn’t know for another week whether his firm got the bid for the mall. It was almost midnight when he stood to leave. I walked him to the door and leaned against him.
We held each other and kissed.
“Last chance for that quickie in the back of my car,” he whispered into my ear.
I sighed. “There’s not enough room.”
A deep sexy laugh rumbled from his chest. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
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