“Two reasons. First, for those times when Im not in an urban environment, such as now. And second, I lusted after her.”
“Yeah.” She couldnt blame him. “Fifty-seven was the primo year for T-Birds.”
“No question. Ive got a 63 Stingray.”
Her eyes went glassy. “You do not.”
“Four-speed, 327. Fuel injection.”
She felt the long, liquid pull in her belly. “Shut up.”
“I had her up to 120.Shedve given me more, but we were just getting to know each other.” He waited a beat. “Ive got my eye on this very sweet Caddy convertible. Fifty-nine. Singlequadajetcarb .”
“I hate you.”
“Hey, a guys got to have a hobby.”
“The 63 Stingrays my fantasy car. The one Im going to have one day, when all my dreams come true.”
He smiled a little. “What color?”
“Black. Serious business black. Four-speed manualtranny . Doesnt have to be the 327, though thatd be the cream.Gotta be the convertible, though. The coupe just wont do.”
She fell silent for a few minutes, just enjoying the ride.
“Zoementioned youd fixed her car.”
“I stopped over. Timing was off, and thecarb needed a little work. Nothing major.”
She made herself say it. “It was a nice thing to do.”
“I had the time.” He shrugged a shoulder, stretched his legs out a little more. “Just figured she could use a hand with it.”
Suddenly she understood, and felt ashamed for her initial reaction when shed heard hed gone toZoes . The hardworking single mother, raising a young boy.
Just like his mother.
Of course hed gone by to help. “She really appreciated it,” Dana told him, but kept it light. “Especially since you dont make her nervous the way Brad does.”
“I dont? I think Im insulted and will now be honor-bound to work harder to make her nervous.”
“What kind of watch you got there?”
“Watch?” Baffled, he turned his wrist. “I dont know. It tells time.”
She shook her hair back and laughed. “Thats what I thought youd say. Sorry, youre never going to make her nervous.”
She slowed, reluctantly, as they approached the gates. Then she stopped, looking at the house through them as she dug her brush out of her purse. “Some place,” she commented, brushing out the knots and tangles the wind had tied into her hair. “You live in a place like this, you could have that classic Vette. Keep it in a big, heated garage like it deserves. I wonder ifPitte and Rowena drive.”
“Thats some segue.”
“No, really. Think about it. They are what they are, and theyve been around since way before anybody even thought about the combustible engine. They can do what they do, but has either of them ever taken driving lessons, stood in line at the DMV, haggled over insurance?”
She dropped the brush back in her purse, looked over at Jordan. His hair was as windblown as hers had been, yet, she noted, it didnt look unkempt. Just sexy.
“How do they live?” she continued. “We dont really know what they do, when it comes to ordinary things. Human things. Do they watch TV? Play canasta? Do they cruise the mall? What about friends? Do they have any?”
“If they do, thered be a regular turnover. Friends, being human, would have that annoying habit of dying.”