“It’s older than we are, let’s see if it still runs.”
I fished the keys out of my dress pocket and tossed them to him. He caught them in one hand and unlocked the door. Thank god it was automatic or remote, the batter was probably dead. Andy opened the door and slid inside. He inserted the key and turned the ignition. It whined and sputtered but never turned on.
He leaned his head out the driver’s side window, “Maybe we can sell it and get you something newer.”
I cocked my head and walked around the dead car. “No. I kind of like it.”
“Babe, are you kidding me?” Andy deadpanned and I held back my laugh. I’d never seen him look so insulted, confused, and desperate to change my mind.
“It was my grandfather’s car. I want to keep it.”
“Sierra it doesn’t even turn on. It could have a family of mice living in it.”
“Well then, don’t you think it’s a good thing you couldn’t get it running. You might killed them.”
He groaned and dropped his head to the steering wheel.
“I think the shop in town can look it over. Evan’s brother Brody came back and bought it. He likes to restore classic muscle cars, but he might do me a solid favor for a keg.”
“Bartering beer for car repairs?”
“No promises. This isn’t your average classic car.” He got out of the vehicle shutting the door not bothering to lock it. He reached in his pocket for his cell phone.
“Calling for a tow?”
“I’m going to see if he’ll come out and look it over. I don’t want him to tow it for us to have to junk it later.”
“Oh my god, don’t say that in front of Cecilia.”
“Don’t name the car until we get it running. You are not keeping this thing if it’s a danger.”
I scoffed. I don’t know who Andy thought he was telling me what I could or couldn’t do. This car issues wasn’t an us problem. It was a me problem and I didn’t like the idea of him getting ahead of himself here with such possessive pronouns. It was entirely too relationship-y for my comfort.
“Be reasonable, Sierra. We can scrap this heap of junk for more than it’s blue book value.”
“But it’s all I have of grandpa.” I fluttered my eyelashes again pretending to pout. I made my lip quiver and Andy growled rolling his eyes and stalking toward me until I was forced to back up.
“Don’t do that to me.” He stepped forward and I stepped back.
“Do what?” I feigned innocence twirling a lock of loose hair seeing how far he’d take this.
“You know what, firefly. I want to put you over the hood of this shitty car and christen the shit out of it when you look at me like that.” Our bodies were flush, chest to chest and he eyes had that smolder that short-circuited my brain.
“How am I looking at you?” I asked honestly unsure of what he read in my gaze.
“You’re looking at me like you want me to eat you up. You make me feel like a lion hungry for a taste of the gazelle. You’re quick to get away but so help me god if I catch you I’m not letting you go again.” Andy backs off the second his monologue is finished. He stalked outside and I hear him on the phone trying to make arrangements for the car. He needed distance. I got that loud and clear. I was supposed to be taunting him like this. It wasn’t fair. I gulped back the dryness of empty promises and wobbled after him. No good could come of this.
“Evan gave me Brody’s number and Brody said he can come by tonight or tomorrow. Which is better?”
I kept on swallowing the dust from the barn. “Whatever is easiest for him.” What I really needed was to get the heck out of here. I was currently living in the cottage on the other side of the property since the house was being rented by a family so the winery could make the payments on a loan my grandfather had taken the year I left. He’d hired all kinds of private detectives to find me and bring me back even though I was eighteen and an adult. He ran the winery into debt and forever put a wedge between him and my Nona.
The guilt ate at me, but not as much as seeing rows of lilac bushes that hadn’t been there before.
Evan’s phone buzzed with an incoming message but my legs took me further into the lilac grove. “Babe, Brody can come tomorrow.”
I nodded and then answered him as I rubbed the last blooms of the year between my fingers haunted by a memory I wasn’t sure was even mine. “That’s great.” I walked farther and farther until I found a small bench in the middle and I twirled around taking it all in. A marble square laid in the middle with a fat cherub angel on top.
I didn’t like this place and I didn’t like the rush of feelings overcoming me threatening to tear open my secret.