Screwdrivered
Page 47
The librarian.
Yes, that’s what I said. The librarian.
We headed toward home as the sun began to sink over the ocean, painting the blue with strands of gold.
When we reached town, Clark directed me to turn left into a driveway.
“Why are we stopping here?” I asked, pulling up next to a perfect saltbox Cape Cod.
“I need to pick something up,” he answered, jumping from the car and hurrying around to my side. He held the door open and closed it behind me.
“This is your house?” I asked, looking all around.
“Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?”
“This isn’t surprise, this is excitement. I’m dying to see where you live,” I announced, running up the front walk. I peered in through the windows on either side of the door and saw books everywhere, stacked neatly on bookcases and on tabletops. An easy chair. The perfect shade of green on the walls, soft and comforting. A fireplace with a stacked stone hearth.
“I have a key, you know,” he said, right behind me. I could feel his breath on the top of my head, he was so much taller than I was. “You don’t have to look through the windows.”
I laughed. “Only if you want to show me.”
“Of course I want to show you. But don’t you want to see the Legless Knight? He’s waiting for you in the garage.”
Looking back at the windows, I asked, “Rain check on the house?”
He nodded. “Rain check.” Then he led me around the house. In the tidy backyard I saw a fire pit, gas grill, and Adirondack chairs arranged on the patio into conversation circles. He paused next to the garage.
“So the knight’s standing guard over the Taurus, is he?” I joked.
“The Taurus is one of the most stolen cars in America, Vivian. Statistically speaking, if you were going to have your own personal knight in shining armor, wouldn’t you want him guarding something you knew was likely to be stolen?” He smiled down at me.
“I suppose. Think that’s why he was in Aunt Maude’s bedroom? Maybe she was afraid someone was going to steal her fourteenth stack of tube socks.”
“Maybe she just got lonely. It happens.” He unlocked the door, but still we stood.
“It happens to everyone at some point,” I said, aware once more of how much taller he was than me. I was staring at his Windsor knot, loosened as it often was by the end of the day. I could see the tiniest smidge of skin peeking through. It was a tan smidge, and I remembered how sun kissed his chest was that day on the trail.
As my nose caught the scent of warm Irish Spring, I looked up to see his face. He was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite identify.
“Agreed,” he murmured.
“Huh?”
“I agree with you. Everyone gets lonely sometimes.”
“Not if they have a knight in shining armor, though,” I said, and felt a blush creep into my cheeks. Before he could answer and plunge us deeper into the Land of Trite, I saved us both. “Let’s get him and bring him back home, okay?”
“Good idea.”
Soon we were driving through Mendocino with the knight in the backseat, his legs sticking straight up into the air next to his top.
I caught Jessica’s face full of curious as we cruised down the main drag, me, Clark, and a suit of armor in a powder-blue fifties’ convertible, blaring doo-wop like it was going out of style. The good news about doo-wop is it never goes out of style.
Still laughing as we pulled into the driveway and around the back of my house, I started when I saw Hank’s truck. With one glance, my heart began to pound. I couldn’t help it. I could see him in the barn, his naked, sweat-slicked torso instantly arousing my female parts. It wasn’t something I could control; it was just hardwired into me when it came to this guy.
I sat in the driver’s seat, drumming my thumbs on the wheel. I didn’t even notice Clark getting out of the car until he was standing next to me, thumping on the door. I dragged my eyes away from the barnyard p**n to see Clark’s head down, his eyes averted. I looked back toward the barn and saw Hank taking notice. And now walking toward us. I quickly climbed out of the car, Clark closing the door with a soft thwack.
“Vivian, if I could just—”
“Viv,” Hank called out.
Hank in motion is something I can’t accurately describe, except to say that the pecs, the abs, the slick, the meat, the blond, the casual, the intent, the command of everything in his reach is utterly, literally, awesome. After two weeks of no Hank, I was now in the full flush of a direct dose, and it was too much for my system. What was it about this guy that turned me to mush like nobody’s business?
The truth is, I’d always had a weakness for a bad boy, the hard-to-get boy. On the page, the heroine was always attracted to the pirate, the rogue prince, the dark rider. And while a prince charming occasionally turned my head, the dirty-talking prince from the enemy camp stole my heart without fail. And my petticoat. The conscious, smart part of me knew this man was no good for me. But the unconscious part of me hijacked my hormones whenever he was within orbit. The primitive need to be invaded by the strongest member of the pack sent me tits up and out, ready to be mounted.
Luckily, the conscious Viv won out today. So when Hank finally made it across the yard, I was breathing steadily.
Someone next to me was not.
“Back from Pittsburgh already, huh?” Hank asked, coming to a stop in front of me, an inch or two closer than societal standards. And deliberately so. He looked me up and down, and my stupid breath wanted to come faster.
“She’s from Philadelphia. Not Pittsburgh.”
Clark was closer than he’d been a moment ago; I could feel his tension through his jacket and into my arm. His Irish Spring was especially sharp and spicy.
“Oh hey, Clark, I didn’t even see you there. What’s going on, you two out for a joyride?” Hank deliberately stepped between us to have a look at the car.
Clark, ever the gentleman, allowed it, but I could see that his lips had disappeared. Which for Clark, I had a feeling, meant he was just below furious.
“You guys been at the junkyard? What the hell is that?” Hank laughed, pointing at the knight in the backseat.
“Hey, don’t go poking fun at Legless. He’s the best,” I said, patting the knight on the shoulder.
“Legless—wasn’t that the blond guy with the arrows in that movie? Ring Lords or something?”
Clark closed his eyes. His lips reappeared and were now counting to ten.
Yes, that’s what I said. The librarian.
We headed toward home as the sun began to sink over the ocean, painting the blue with strands of gold.
When we reached town, Clark directed me to turn left into a driveway.
“Why are we stopping here?” I asked, pulling up next to a perfect saltbox Cape Cod.
“I need to pick something up,” he answered, jumping from the car and hurrying around to my side. He held the door open and closed it behind me.
“This is your house?” I asked, looking all around.
“Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?”
“This isn’t surprise, this is excitement. I’m dying to see where you live,” I announced, running up the front walk. I peered in through the windows on either side of the door and saw books everywhere, stacked neatly on bookcases and on tabletops. An easy chair. The perfect shade of green on the walls, soft and comforting. A fireplace with a stacked stone hearth.
“I have a key, you know,” he said, right behind me. I could feel his breath on the top of my head, he was so much taller than I was. “You don’t have to look through the windows.”
I laughed. “Only if you want to show me.”
“Of course I want to show you. But don’t you want to see the Legless Knight? He’s waiting for you in the garage.”
Looking back at the windows, I asked, “Rain check on the house?”
He nodded. “Rain check.” Then he led me around the house. In the tidy backyard I saw a fire pit, gas grill, and Adirondack chairs arranged on the patio into conversation circles. He paused next to the garage.
“So the knight’s standing guard over the Taurus, is he?” I joked.
“The Taurus is one of the most stolen cars in America, Vivian. Statistically speaking, if you were going to have your own personal knight in shining armor, wouldn’t you want him guarding something you knew was likely to be stolen?” He smiled down at me.
“I suppose. Think that’s why he was in Aunt Maude’s bedroom? Maybe she was afraid someone was going to steal her fourteenth stack of tube socks.”
“Maybe she just got lonely. It happens.” He unlocked the door, but still we stood.
“It happens to everyone at some point,” I said, aware once more of how much taller he was than me. I was staring at his Windsor knot, loosened as it often was by the end of the day. I could see the tiniest smidge of skin peeking through. It was a tan smidge, and I remembered how sun kissed his chest was that day on the trail.
As my nose caught the scent of warm Irish Spring, I looked up to see his face. He was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite identify.
“Agreed,” he murmured.
“Huh?”
“I agree with you. Everyone gets lonely sometimes.”
“Not if they have a knight in shining armor, though,” I said, and felt a blush creep into my cheeks. Before he could answer and plunge us deeper into the Land of Trite, I saved us both. “Let’s get him and bring him back home, okay?”
“Good idea.”
Soon we were driving through Mendocino with the knight in the backseat, his legs sticking straight up into the air next to his top.
I caught Jessica’s face full of curious as we cruised down the main drag, me, Clark, and a suit of armor in a powder-blue fifties’ convertible, blaring doo-wop like it was going out of style. The good news about doo-wop is it never goes out of style.
Still laughing as we pulled into the driveway and around the back of my house, I started when I saw Hank’s truck. With one glance, my heart began to pound. I couldn’t help it. I could see him in the barn, his naked, sweat-slicked torso instantly arousing my female parts. It wasn’t something I could control; it was just hardwired into me when it came to this guy.
I sat in the driver’s seat, drumming my thumbs on the wheel. I didn’t even notice Clark getting out of the car until he was standing next to me, thumping on the door. I dragged my eyes away from the barnyard p**n to see Clark’s head down, his eyes averted. I looked back toward the barn and saw Hank taking notice. And now walking toward us. I quickly climbed out of the car, Clark closing the door with a soft thwack.
“Vivian, if I could just—”
“Viv,” Hank called out.
Hank in motion is something I can’t accurately describe, except to say that the pecs, the abs, the slick, the meat, the blond, the casual, the intent, the command of everything in his reach is utterly, literally, awesome. After two weeks of no Hank, I was now in the full flush of a direct dose, and it was too much for my system. What was it about this guy that turned me to mush like nobody’s business?
The truth is, I’d always had a weakness for a bad boy, the hard-to-get boy. On the page, the heroine was always attracted to the pirate, the rogue prince, the dark rider. And while a prince charming occasionally turned my head, the dirty-talking prince from the enemy camp stole my heart without fail. And my petticoat. The conscious, smart part of me knew this man was no good for me. But the unconscious part of me hijacked my hormones whenever he was within orbit. The primitive need to be invaded by the strongest member of the pack sent me tits up and out, ready to be mounted.
Luckily, the conscious Viv won out today. So when Hank finally made it across the yard, I was breathing steadily.
Someone next to me was not.
“Back from Pittsburgh already, huh?” Hank asked, coming to a stop in front of me, an inch or two closer than societal standards. And deliberately so. He looked me up and down, and my stupid breath wanted to come faster.
“She’s from Philadelphia. Not Pittsburgh.”
Clark was closer than he’d been a moment ago; I could feel his tension through his jacket and into my arm. His Irish Spring was especially sharp and spicy.
“Oh hey, Clark, I didn’t even see you there. What’s going on, you two out for a joyride?” Hank deliberately stepped between us to have a look at the car.
Clark, ever the gentleman, allowed it, but I could see that his lips had disappeared. Which for Clark, I had a feeling, meant he was just below furious.
“You guys been at the junkyard? What the hell is that?” Hank laughed, pointing at the knight in the backseat.
“Hey, don’t go poking fun at Legless. He’s the best,” I said, patting the knight on the shoulder.
“Legless—wasn’t that the blond guy with the arrows in that movie? Ring Lords or something?”
Clark closed his eyes. His lips reappeared and were now counting to ten.
