And now here they were, driving down the highway toward Silver City Mall, the windows open, the radio blasting out, with Lydia singing along to Dua Lipa. Eddie was safe with Jackson’s dad – who’d raised an eyebrow when he’d been introduced to Lydia, but said nothing else, though Jackson was almost certain he’d be getting the third degree later.
“I love this song so much,” Lydia said, turning to smile at him. The breeze from the window lifted her hair, making tendrils dance around her shoulders. “How about you?”
“I don’t think I’ve heard it before.” Jackson shrugged. “But I like it.”
“What kind of music do you listen to?” she asked, tipping her head. The sun caught her blonde hair, reflecting into his eyes.
The music was interrupted by the shrill sound of his phone ringer through the Bluetooth speaker. Jackson looked at the dash – it was Alex, one of his programmers. He rejected the call, and looked over at Lydia.
“I guess I’m more of a rock guy. Soundgarden. Foo Fighters. That kind of thing.”
“I love the Foo Fighters.” Her eyes caught his, and damn if that didn’t do something to him. “We should listen to them. Best of You is my favorite.”
“It’s mine, too,” he murmured. Who knew?
She pulled out her phone, linking it with the speaker, and hit play. Tipping her head back, she sang the first line with a deep, throaty voice that made him grin.
She was dazzling. She’d only been here for two days, yet here he was, driving along the highway on a Sunday afternoon, listening to good music with a beautiful woman sitting next to him. Something other people did on a weekly basis, yet it felt almost alien to him.
And yet so damn good.
His phone started buzzing again, the ringtone interrupting Dave Grohl’s lament.
“Boy, you get a lot of phone calls,” Lydia said. “Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”
“I usually work on Sundays.” And every other day. “They’re used to me answering all their problems.”
“Who is it, a client?”
“Mostly my programmers. We bounce ideas off each other when we hit a block. They’ll probably call another member of the team if they can’t get ahold of me.”
“Do you ever take a break?”
He gave her a half-grin. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, but I can’t help but feel it’s my fault you are. I should have taken Ben up on his offer.”
“You wanted to go to the mall with a teenage kid in his mom’s minivan?” he asked archly.
She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know he drives a minivan?”
“I don’t. But I’m trying to put you off.”
“Oh.” She looked down, smiling to herself. “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in Ben.”
Jackson stared out of the windshield, his hands a little tighter on the wheel.
“I’m really glad you brought me,” Lydia said softly. “I like spending time with you.”
He swallowed hard, a sudden image of Griff flashing into his thoughts. At six foot two, Jackson was taller than most guys he knew, but his best friend still towered over him. He had a mean right hook, too. Not that Jackson had ever been at the receiving end of it, but he remembered Griff using it a couple of times when they were younger.
And he definitely didn’t want to rile his best friend up now.
The problem was, his body wasn’t getting the message.
He gave an internal sigh of relief when he saw the Silver Sands Mall looming ahead. Pulling into the turn lane, he made a right into the main parking lot, sliding his car in between a F150 truck and a BMW.
Switching off the engine, he turned to Lydia. “Okay. You ready to hit the shops?”