Drive Me Crazy
Page 11

 Marquita Valentine

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Don’t ever let me go, she thought.
***
“Can I show you something?” Melanie asked as she drove. She had put the top down, so now all her blonde curls streamed in the wind.
“You’re in the driver’s seat.”
Down shifting, she hit the gas. “Hold on to your hat, baby doll.”
Carter grinned. For the past thirty minutes, she’d driven as fast a he’d let her up and down Highway Thirteen, her confidence growing with each mile.
She took a right onto Persimmon and drove another quarter mile before turning into the driveway of a tiny house with a for sale sign stuck in the front yard.
“What do you think of this place?” she asked, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out. She walked to the porch and peeked in the windows.
He joined her on the porch, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Why?”
“Because I want to buy it.” Turning to him, her brown eyes brimmed with happiness. “I almost have enough money for a down payment.”
“What about a loan?”
She moved to the front door, fiddling with the lock. “Pre-approved.” Giving the door a push, it swung open. “Come see the inside.”
Holding out her hand, she waited for him to take it. He knew if he took her hand that there was no going back to what they used to have or what they used to be. Not even after last night and this morning. But he liked to take chances, even when they didn’t pay off. So, he took a deep breath and pulled his hand out of his pocket to grab hers.
He let her lead him inside, her fingers laced through his. “We won’t get arrested for breaking and entering will we?”
Giggling, she shook her head. “Janie gave me the code, since I’d been bugging her almost every day to come out here.”
As they walked through the two bedroom cottage, she pointed out every little thing she loved about it. He couldn’t help but be caught up in her excitement.
“Out here, I was thinking that I could have a grill and one of those chimineas, so I can roast marshmallows.” She practically skipped to the right side of the deck. “Maybe put a patio set over here.”
Wiggling the deck railing, he frowned. “This needs be fixed.”
“I could hire you as my handyman.”
“If I were planning on staying, I’d love to be your handyman.” The words slipped out, before he had a chance to consider the impact.
“You really are set on living in Charlotte?” she asked in a small voice.
He had to tell the truth; she deserved complete honesty, and he hated liars. “Looks like it, but I’m not a hundred percent.” A look of sadness appeared on her face, but in his next heartbeat it was gone so fast that he was sure he’d imagined it. “It’s not that far away and I plan on coming home for holidays and all.”
“Guess it’s a good thing that you and I are just friends, because most women around here wouldn’t be too happy to know that they man they’ve been sleeping with plans on leaving.”
Just friends? He sure as hell didn’t do what they had done last night and this morning with his friends. But maybe she did. An uneasy feeling settle in his gut, heavy as a tire iron. “Do you usually have sex with your friends?”
“No…at least, not until you.”
That uneasy feeling left him, and he suppressed a grin. He always did like being first.
“What about you?” she asked, running her fingers along the top of the railing.
“Not since my first year of college.”
“Oh, so you’re okay with that kind of relationship with me, then.”
“I’m okay with whatever you need to call it.” But he wasn’t. Kneeling down, he examined the boards. They seemed to be in good shape and the deck hadn’t shook when they’d walked on it. He looked up at her. “How long has it been since anyone’s lived here?’
“’Bout two years. The bank owns it now,” she said as he stood, wiping off his hands. “Hopefully, real soon, I will instead.”
Jesus, he was amazed by her, by her confidence and dedication to a goal that her dad made nearly unreachable with his gambling habits. Whoever she ended up with was a lucky man, because he knew that she’d be that guy’s biggest cheerleader and best friend.
Didn’t he sound all Hallmark-like.
Frowning, he dug his hands into his jean pockets.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
He couldn’t be that easy to read. “I’m all ears.”
“That maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. That a single woman shouldn’t buy a house, because what if she meets a man—”
Pressing a finger to her lips, he gave her a look. “If I thought all of that, what kind of man would I be?” He grabbed her hips, pulling her close. “I find female home-ownership very sexy.”
A little smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. “Oh you do, do you?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low.
“Sure you’re not saying that to get in my panties?”
“Please.” He rolled his eyes. “Lines aren’t my MO.” Melanie laughed, her joy contagious and he found himself laughing with her. “You are the sweetest thing, Melanie Ann Smith. And I’m mighty proud of you.”
Brown eyes widened. “I am? You are?”
Instead of answering, he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her in the afternoon sun. Her arms wound around him as she pressed her body to his. In that moment, something inside of him shifted and all he could think was it was a damn shame he wouldn’t be that man for Melanie.
Chapter Ten
Carter drove home, pushing the car to speeds she would never dare to go, but she didn’t feel afraid. This was Carter and he would never put her in harm’s way.
Carter said something, but she couldn’t make it out over the music blaring.
“What?” she yelled.
Glancing at her, he began again, “I said—” The bass hit, drowning out the rest of his words.
Squinting at him, she mouthed, “Can’t hear you.”
“Turn down the radio.”
Good grief. Why couldn’t he turn it down himself, if it was so darn important? “Men,” she sighed, turning down the music.
“Spend the next couple of nights with me?” he asked.
“Like dates or a sleepover?”
He pulled the car into his garage and cut the engine. Silence permeated the air, until he finally said, “A little of both.”
She faced him, smiling so big that her face felt like it was going to split. “I’d love that.”
***
The rest of the week passed by in a blur. Melanie had never been so happy in her life. So happy that she barely had any time to dwell of the fact that her dad still hadn’t come home.
Or the phone call she’d overheard Carter having with his Uncle John this morning about his Aunt Raylene leaving John a note about going out to one of those spas on Hilton Head.
“Don’t know why people tell me their problems,” he had grumbled, then moved into his garage.
She heard a series of crashes, and tools falling. “What in the world?”
“Son of a bitch,” Carter shouted and she went running into the garage.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, skidding to a stop.
Beau’s eyes widened but wisely he said nothing. Instead he grabbed some cleaning supplies and went to work cleaning up the mess. Melanie hadn’t been too sure about him when he started. All tough edges on the outside, but inside, where it counted, that boy was softer than the cotton in a field.
“Oh my God is right.” Carter was covered from head to toe in oil and grease. “I’m going to kill Heath when I see him.”
“Why do you think he did,”—she pointed to the overturned containers.—“this?”
Wiping his face with a paper towel, he said, “Because he was the last one to use my tools to change his oil. Who else would think it was good idea to set an opened oil container on top of old boxes?”
Carter did have a point about his brother. Heath wasn't the most responsible college kid on the planet. “How about you go get in the shower and I’ll help Beau clean up this mess.” Kneeling in the floor, she grabbed a wad of paper towel and began blotting up the oil.
Beau watched them with round eyes as he rushed back and forth, bringing more cleaning supplies.
“Leave it, Melanie. That’s what I pay Beau to do.” Carter stalked to the door at the rear of the garage and motioned for her to follow. Once they were out of earshot, he said, “Besides, I’ll need your help in the shower.”
She soo wanted to help in the shower, but her brain won the battle over her raging lust. “No way. First, I’m still on the clock and second, there is an impressionable young man working for you.”
Carter snorted. “That kid probably gets more tail with his I’m-bad-on-the-outside-but-a-softie-on-the-inside routine than I ever did at his age.”
Gasping, she glared at him. “It’s not a routine.”
“Women,” he muttered. “Will we ruin Beau for life if you help get me out of these clothes?”
“I suppose not, but that’s all I’m doing.” She trailed behind him as he made his way upstairs to his home away from home. They entered the laundry room first and she helped him get off his boots without getting too much on her or the floor. He peeled out of his shirt, jeans and socks next, revealing his lean, muscular body.
Taking his clothes, she piled them in the deep sink and ran hot water over them.
“Sure you won’t reconsider?” he asked, his voice deep.
After adding a capful of detergent, she turned to him and almost dropped the container. “Would you put that away,” she hissed, waving at his erection.
“After you come wash all the parts I can’t reach.”
“I said no.” However, her entire body was screaming: Go for it! She replaced the cap and placed the detergent on top of the washer.
“Then how will you get the oil off of you?” He lunged for her and she just barely danced out his reach.
“Go shower, you dirty old man,” she said with a giggle.
“I’m going,” he said, walking away. She couldn’t help but ogle him. “Stop staring woman, before I decide that I don’t give a rat’s ass about Beau seeing me chasing you around.”
“Don’t forget we’re going driving again this afternoon,” he added, disappearing into his apartment.
“Can’t wait!” She raced down the stairs. Composing herself before she reentered the garage, she schooled her face and walked inside.
Beau stopped mopping up the spill. “You sure look pretty today, Miss Melanie.”
“Thank you.” Carter was completely wrong about him. That boy was nothing but sunshine--
Grey eyes dropped to her chest and she narrowed hers at him. Cotton had hard seeds at the center, nearly impossible to get out without the right equipment.
His gaze met hers again, all angel-faced. “You’re welcome.”
“I hate it when he’s right,” she muttered, stomping to the office.
“Can I get you anything, Miss Melanie?”
Turning, she stuck her head in the garage and shot him a stern look. “I’m on to you, Beau Montgomery.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Beau winked at her, then went back to cleaning.
***
Parked in the Johnson’s tobacco field, Melanie sat beside Carter, her head on his shoulder as they watched the sun begin to set. North Carolina in January had notoriously fickle weather. One minute is was freezing and the next, like today, it was seventy and sunny.
“Have you found a job to replace the one I helped you lose, yet?”
“Actually, Jack texted me while you were filling up the car. He said he forgot about Valentine’s Day next month. So, he needed to hire his best waitress back.” She’d almost told Jack no, but she needed the money. Plus, she was pretty darn sure Jack would never forget about one of his biggest money-making days. Sneaky man.
“Forgot all about Valentine’s Day. Isn’t it in three weeks or something?” Melanie’s heart came to a screeching halt. She didn’t expect him to think about spending Valentine’s Day with her. That was something people in love did. And their love was incredibly one-sided. But it hurt. God, it hurt.
“Three and a half weeks.” Once again she questioned her sanity for getting involved with him. “Just another day for me, only with better tips.”
“Glad you got your job back.” He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “How about you come to Charlotte with me this weekend and meet some of my buddies?” he asked, sending her heart into overdrive. Men did not introduce casual relationship women to their buddies. Or vice versa.
“We get to drive this the entire way,” he added, as if she needed a car for an excuse to spend time with him.
“I’d love…that sounds like fun.” While she sounded like a complete idiot.
He turned to her, dark green eyes flashing with humor.“Knew you couldn’t resist the lure of driving the car.”
Dipping her head, she peered up at him though her lashes. “Might have something to do with the owner.”
Humor gave way to obvious annoyance. “Lots of women like Chase Montgomery.”
“Huh?” She had no idea why lots of women liking Chase Montgomery had anything to do their conversation.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know.” His fully lips compressed into a thin line. “Almost every woman I’ve dated, since I’ve been in racing, wants to meet Montgomery. He’s a racing god.”