I normally don’t dothings like this, get into a car with a complete stranger. It’s not like he told me anything personal that he couldn’t have found on the internet. I didn’t even ask who his cousin was at Thunder Ink. As I buckle my seatbelt, I will my worries away. Besides, he’s easy on the eyes and I have a good feeling about him.
I just hope we can find something to talk about for the next several hours.
“Are you from Thunder? I feel like I would’ve seen you around.” Bond brushes the wet snow from his hair, then slowly pulls out of the airport parking lot. While I wouldn’t call what we’re driving in a blizzard, it’s certainly less than ideal.
“I moved back when my sister decided to open her cafe.”
“Where’d you go?”
I shoot him the side-eye. A bit nosy, isn’t he? “I traveled a little. Wanted to see a little bit of the world before I settled back down somewhere.” I don’t tell him that it was with my half of the inheritance my mother left me in her will. Why bring things down any more than they need to be? “You?”
“Oh, I moved there a few years ago. I got a divorce and needed a fresh start.”
Now he’s got my attention. While Bond seemed a little baby-faced at first, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles gives him away. As does this recentdivorcedevelopment. “It’s a nice town.”
“It’s a great town.”
I don’t know if I’d go that far. “After being in big cities where life cycles twenty-four hours a day, sometimes I find it a little boring.”
“Not me.” He licks his full lips, concentrating hard on the road in front of him. “It’s the most perfect, peaceful little town.”
“I’m not arguing that. Sometimes, I just wish it had more to offer.”
“Fair enough, Lacey.” He risks stealing a glance at me, and instantly my body grows hot. Being this close to a man this gorgeous has my nerves on edge. I could lie and say it’s because of the weather. While driving in a blizzard is dangerous, it’s not nearly as dangerous as being in Bond’s presence when I haven’t had sex in two years. I can’t stop picturing him naked. Hell, I don’t want to stop picturing him naked.
I shift in my seat, hoping I’m not giving away how horny he’s making me by just sitting next to me. “How about some music?” I say and reach for the radio. I’m surprised to graze Bond’s warm hand as he reaches for the dial at the exact same time. “Oh,” I say, sounding too surprised for such a simple oops. “Sorry.”
“My bad,” he says, pulling his hand away. “Go for it. I should really keep my eyes on the road.”
“Cool,” I mutter before wiping the growing dampness from my brow. “I’m going to turn down the heat, too.”
“Whatever you want.” Bond nods then clenches his strong jaw shut. What I want is to pull this damn car over and fuck the living hell out of this handsome stranger who’s doing me a solid.
“This is for all of your trouble.”I’ll say, then grab him by the collar of his flannel shirt and press my lips against his until he throws me into the backseat and has his way with me every which way possible.
“What’s that?” Bond asks.
“What?” The word comes out sharp, guilty.
“You either said something, or you laughed.”
“Really?” I shake the fantasy away from my mind. I’m known for talking to myself, but geez, now’s not the time. “I’m just grateful for the ride.”
Oh yeah! Ride me, Bond. Ride me!
I rub my temple, attempting to rub the thought away with it.
We drive for a good two hours listening to satellite radio. I’m shocked to learn of Bond’s extensive knowledge of horrible nineties alternative music, and I estimate it puts us around the same age. The longer we drive, the more comfortable I feel with him.
He’s from a big family, all back in Detroit. He lives for his three nieces, visiting them and spoiling them with gifts, and he works as a lumberjack in Thunder Mountain. I find myself staring at him when he speaks, wondering how it would feel to sink into those pillowy lips of his. I’m not fully paying attention to what he’s saying when he utters…
“Shit.” My head snaps forward, and I see the flashing red and white lights. “I wonder what happened.” We pull up alongside the cops, and Bond rolls down his window. “What’s going on, sir?”
The red-nosed cop leans down into the window. “Road’s out up ahead. Where you folks headed?”
“Oh no.” For the first time, I notice the snake tattoo creeping up the back of Bond’s collar. “Thunder Mountain. Minnesota.”
“Well, I hate to be the bearer, but you won’t be getting there tonight. We’ve got plows coming out, but they’re behind. The roads are horrible.”