One Year Later
“Where are we going? I thought you were taking me to lunch.”
I lift Angela’s hand to my mouth, placing a kiss in her palm before dropping it back to the clutch to shift into fourth.
“I am. Kind of.” Her eyes grow wide, making me laugh. “You’ll be fed, don’t worry. I have something I want to show you first.”
My sweaty hand grips the steering wheel tighter. This could go either way. With Angela, I never really know. She surprises me at every turn, which normally I love the constant mystery our neighbor girl provides, but today I really need things to go my way. It was hard enough stealing her away from the shop. With the summer weather rolling in even earlier this year, her wash has been insane. After months of overseeing every detail of the build, and high praise from her professor, she finally accepted our offer to run the car wash portion of Pop The Hood Garage. Oh, and let’s not forget the thorough contract negotiations. We put up a good effort, but she had us all along, since day one to be exact. She still doesn’t know that.
We opened our automotive high-performance doors five months ago and have been booked solid ever since. Landing Joaquin as our major client set us off to a great start, but we had no idea just how crazy things would get. I’ve been tested in ways I never was at the old place. New problems pop up daily for me to solve, always keeping me on my toes. We now service ATVs, UTVs, dirt bikes, sports cars, farm trucks, and everything in between. Basically, we fix things that go, hell, even some things that don’t. I’m pretty sure Beck repaired some lady’s musical jewelry box last week on one of his rare breaks.
Not even a full year in and we’re already talking about expanding. Through it all, Angela’s kept her cool over on the wash side. She runs it efficiently and fairly, always happy to please customers. So much so, I swear some of the farmhands come in more often than needed just to see her. Having her so close though—and with three, if not more, sets of eyes on her—I don’t have to worry like I did before. Nobody can even sneeze in her direction now without someone running to check on her. Okay, it’s usually me, but Beck and Marc are always waiting in the wings, ready to step in, too. At first, she worried it would interfere with productivity—us constantly looking after her—but she soon realized it was pointless to argue. Family comes first, always. It’d be the same whether she worked with us or somewhere else, but having her so close does make things easier for everyone.
On the occasional rainy day, she’ll come over to the bays to help out where needed. Angela’s the hardest worker there, and in a shop full of star mechanics, that’s saying something. I love being able to see her every day, even if for a short break here and there. I’ve tried to lure her into my office with the promise of a quickie but she rebuffs me every time with some new task she’s taken on. She’s always thinking of ways to improve both sides of the business and has proven to be the best damn decision we’ve made in this crazy venture. She’s also hell bent on keeping up professional appearances which just means I’ll need to take her there when everybody’s gone sometime.
The thought of her on my desk has me adjusting in my seat. Angela shoots her gaze to me, seeing my discomfort. The triumphant smirk she’s wearing tells me she knows what’s causing it.
“Are you stealing me away just to have sex? Don’t you get enough at home?”
Home. Such a simple word, yet holds so much weight. We still spend time at both apartments but most nights are spent at hers for privacy. I also put an end to her open windows rule. The truth is I don’t mind sleeping in Angela’s sauna of an apartment, I never did. I’d sleep on an active volcano if it meant being close to her, but I give her shit about it because I like the way her eyebrows crease when she thinks she’s at a disadvantage. It’s the only warning she gives before she strikes back and I love the bite to her passion, especially when I’m the reason for it. But with her new salary, I know damn well she can afford to run the air conditioning at night, which is why I pay the bill anyway—she wouldn’t let me otherwise. A small price to pay, in my mind, to ensure the whole complex isn’t listening to my girl scream my name every night. Not that there’s anything wrong with them knowing who’s in her bed—I love that part—but I know my boys giving her a hard time about it embarrasses her. I like her wild and loud, so it was an easy decision to shut the damn windows. Getting her to agree to it, while not easy, definitely added to the fun. I smile remembering how inventive I had to get with my persuasion.
“It’s not to have sex,” I assure her. “Although, I like where your head’s at.” I wink, knowing it drives her crazy.
While clenching her thighs—I knew I had her—she groans, “I don’t even have time to eat lunch right now, let alone go out, so unless you plan on feeding me while fucking me, it’s not happening.”
Damn, she’s hangry. And I’m betting a little horny now, too. This is not off to a good start. I reach behind her seat, pulling out the bag full of tacos I ordered ahead of time. With extra limes. I know better than to offer my girl anything less than a five to one ratio of limes to tacos. Her face lights up when she sees the food and wastes no time grabbing one.
I’m almost to our destination when sucking noises have my eyebrows jumping. Glancing over, I see Angela lick the juice off her fingers, probably all that damn lime juice, giving me an idea of how to satisfy her other craving.
“Unbutton your pants.”
Angela’s eyes bounce to mine, confused, but I’m not joking. Even though it’s unbearably hot out, Angela insists on wearing pants to work every day. I usually don’t complain since she slays in anything she wears, but today they’re working against me. Shorts would’ve made this so much easier but fuck it, I’m down to try.
She cocks an eyebrow but continues licking her finger in slow, exaggerated movements. Goddamn, she’s trying to kill me.
“Now,” I rasp out, barely able to speak.
With a roll of her hazel eyes, she does as she’s told. Knowing her though, that’s not the last of it—not by a long shot. She’ll get me back somehow and I can’t wait to see when she does. The fire she holds within is intoxicating and I’m addicted to her flame, always daring to see how close I can get before it consumes me by burning from the inside out.
Hopped up on nerves, and feeling pretty fucking reckless, I reach over to push inside her panties, happy to find her wet and ready, despite her indifferent attitude. Taking my left hand off the wheel to shift, I quickly replace it before I begin swirling her wetness around her pussy lips with my right hand. Her whimper fills the car, turning me rock hard, and I pick up the pace, circling her entrance in preparation. I dip in one finger, testing her readiness and she shifts forward, greedily chasing the friction she loves so much.
I got you, babe.
My second finger follows as I push my palm flat against her clit, so she can grind on my hand.
“Coty,” she moans.
I peer over to see her bottom lip bitten between her teeth and her eyes closed.
She’s so fucking beautiful it takes everything in me to tear my eyes away but I am still driving. With an eye on the road, I keep up a steady rhythm as Angela rides my hand. I listen to her panting, committing it to memory since it’s the best sound in the world. When I can safely steal a glance at her, I see she’s close. So fucking close.
My turn approaches sooner than I’d anticipated and, unable to downshift in time, I end up taking it while going way too fast. I recover like a fucking champ before coming to a full stop. Yanking the emergency brake up, I face Angela just in time to see her coming and swallow her cries whole as I seal my lips to hers. My arm starts to cramp from the odd angle but I’d break the damn thing off before I’d deny my love a proper orgasm.
Her breathing mellows as I eat up her prolonged moans, enjoying the hell out of the satisfied noises. Eventually, she pulls back with a sparkle in her eye and I can’t help but smile.
“Where’s my taco?” she challenges, breathless.
I bring my fingers up to my mouth for a taste, hoping it’ll hold me over until later.
“I was thinking the same thing,” I deadpan.
She bursts into laughter.
Brat.
“Where are we?”
Her eyes bounce around the large expanse and I follow her gaze, seeing what she does. A sturdy breeze picks up, rustling the long wild grass that’ll die off soon from not having a reliable water source leaving behind shades of earthy browns. Oh, and sagebrush. Lots and lots of sagebrush that will converge with tumbleweeds rolling across the land once the winds prove too fierce for their roots.
I’ve had my eye on this canyon in particular and now I’m finally sharing it with Angela.
This is it. Hands interlaced, I lead her up the loose gravel driveway. My chest so tight I feel like I might pass out, I turn to her when we reach the front walk, taking both her hands in mine.
“Coty, what is this?”
Angela’s eyes dart between mine and the house we’re standing in front of.
“For the last year I’ve been keeping a secret from you.”
Eyes wide, Angela yanks her hands from mine, stumbling back. What’d I say?
“No, that came out wrong.” I reach for her but she shifts, avoiding me. Well, this got away from me. “Shit, babe, this is my house. This is the secret. I’ve been working on it for almost a year now and it’s in the final stages of being finished.”
Confusion still lines her face so I try again, holding my palms out in front of me. “I’m not married. No hidden family.” She actually said that shit to me once, like that’s something I’d ever hide. I’ll be the first one to show off our family, when the time comes. “I started building this house for…us. For you.” Her eyes widen as I rush to add, “After we got serious, I bought the property then hired a builder to make a home on it. I was hoping you’d want to move here with me but didn’t want to pressure you, so I waited ‘til you were ready.” I gesture to the solid oak door I salvaged from a dilapidated barn several towns over. Beyond it lies a foyer with options to swing right to the dining room that’ll hold our Friday family dinners or left to the library I’ve been quietly filling for Angela. Gary isn’t the only one that can online shop. If she thinks she’s surprised now, wait ‘til she sees what those built-in bookcases hold. No more trips to the local library, unless she wants to anyway. “What do you think? Want to look around?”
I hold my breath. Just give me a chance.
“You’re not proposing though, right?”
I smile, shaking my head. “Nah, one step at a time, babe.”
Even though I fully intend on making Angela my wife someday, I’m not rushing her. Thanks to her mom, she’s got a hang up about getting married too young. I knew she’d be worth the wait the moment I laid eyes on her and she’s proven me right, making me work for every inch in our year together. One day this house will even be filled with our kids, but that’s a conversation for a different day. Like I said, one step at a time.
“I’m not saying yes,” she lowers her gaze to the ground before peeking back up at me, “but I’d love to see it.”
That’s all I need.
* * *
“What will the guys do?”
“What do you mean?”
After giving Angela the grand tour, and some serious sweet talk, she finally agreed to make the move together next month. The word “yes” still tumbling from her mouth, I laid her out on the granite countertop to christen our new home.
Now, as we take the scenic way back, I can’t help but reflect on our journey so far. Angela likes to say I’m the wrench in her plans, that I came out of nowhere to throw her off course, but I don’t see it that way. I never have. She and I are a certainty, not a chance opportunity. She was on a really bumpy detour that ultimately led her right to Creekwood, right to me, which is exactly where she’s supposed to be, where she was always going to end up. Life just gave her a longer route to reach me.
“Will they stay in the apartment without you there or move out, too?”
Her hand drifts lazily over my relaxed forearm and I can’t remember a time I’ve ever felt so relaxed. I want to live right here, right now, forever.
“They’re getting a new roommate. I think they’re interviewing someone today.”
“Wow, they move fast.”
“Well, it’s not like I’ve been there much lately. And they know where I belong.”
“Going a hundred miles an hour on your black stallion?”
That is not what I call my bike. Smartass.
“With you. Anywhere.”
She returns my embellished smile as we pull up.
Parking in my designated spot, Angela narrows her eyes out the windshield, saying, “That bike looks familiar.”
A long, slender female body covered in leggings and a tight leather jacket mounts a white and gray Honda before taking off.
We get a lot of riders through here since we’re the only place that offers reasonable rates to work on bikes but that Honda’s one I can honestly say I don’t remember. Maybe she only went through the wash or something. Angela figured out how to clean everything we service as well so she makes more friends than ever.
We enter through the open rolling door holding hands, drawing a crowd wanting to know about the house. With the guys covering for me for the past several months, they’re probably relieved to not have to lie to Angela anymore. She fills everyone in before they eventually return to their work.
Beck’s been uncharacteristically quiet amongst the excitement, keeping himself busy with cleaning, and recleaning, his station. When he moves the same tool for the fourth time, I catch his eye and jerk my chin over my shoulder. “Who was that?”
Marc’s the one to answer though, saying, “The hot chick with the CBR? That’s our new roommate.”
My eyebrows lurch up to my hat’s flattened bill—professional attire isn’t really my thing—and I look to Angela, finding her with a similar expression.
Well, shit, this should be interesting.
