Cheeks blazing, Molly shot a nervous glance around the parking lot. It proved empty of all other life. Phew. “Aren’t you worried about photographers?”
“I fucking love this country.” He placed one hand on her lower back, nudging her toward the car. “Even your paparazzi are polite and don’t bother people until after ten.”
“Ha-ha,” she said, trying not to think too hard about how incredibly good it felt to be with him. “And wow, look, you picked such an inconspicuous car.”
“Smart-ass.” He lightly spanked that ass, to her renewed blush. “The rental company only delivered it yesterday, and as far as anyone knows, it was hired by a corporation.”
“Where’s your disguise?”
“Wait and see.” Leaning down to open the door, he said, “Into my chariot.”
Molly bit her lower lip and wondered if she should warn him about the parking situation at the market. Then the devil in her, long stifled, grinned and said why not give him the full local experience? “Is this a Lamborghini, too?” she asked, sliding into the buttery-soft leather bucket seat with a sigh of pleasure.
“Baby,” he said, after getting into the driver’s seat, “we need to have a serious discussion about your lack of knowledge of the most beautiful machines on this planet.” Closing a hand on her thigh, high enough up that her breath caught, he slipped on mirrored sunglasses with the other. “This is a Ferrari Spider.”
She widened her eyes, unable to tone down her awareness of that hand on her thigh… or of how possessive it felt. “Gosh, what a rookie mistake.” Faux embarrassment. “I mean, what ordinary person can’t tell a Ferrari and a Lamborghini apart on sight?”
“A certain librarian clearly wants to be in trouble today.” Shifting his hand from her thigh to grip the back of her neck, he held her in position for a patented Fox kiss. Deep, wet, lusciously sexual.
He didn’t stop until she was squirming restlessly in her seat. A final lick across her lips, a warning squeeze of her nape. “You’ll get the rest of your punishment later.”
“You—” Shaking her head, she pointed to the street—and if his grin kicked her in the heart, she’d already made her decision, already decided not to be a coward, to embrace this month no matter the consequences.
“Busy place,” Fox said fifteen minutes later, the area around the outdoor market a hive of activity, cars and pedestrians intermingling as the early birds made their way to the entrance.
The Ferrari received more than a few hoots and hollers, especially when the tiny paved parking lot proved full even so early, and Fox was waved into the overflow lot—a grassy field that also occasionally functioned as a racetrack.
“Molly, you have some explaining to do,” Fox muttered when the car’s undercarriage almost scraped a raised section of earth during their turn into the “parking space” pointed out by the orange-vested teenage boy acting as an attendant.
“Were you expecting valet service?” she asked innocently, enjoying playing with him in a way she could’ve never predicted that first night. “I heard they have that at the malls in L.A.”
“Oh, your punishment is going to last a long time.” He turned off the engine. “I think I’ll need to hear some begging before I show any mercy.”
His growled warning, voice holding that edgy roughness that had turned him into a megastar, had her clenching her thighs together as he reached into the miniscule backseat to grab a baseball cap and what looked like a sticker. Confused, she watched him peel off the backing and apply it to his cheek. Suddenly, he had an impossibly realistic-appearing tattoo of a knife-edged starburst on his face.
“Wow,” she murmured, running her fingers over the “tattoo.” “That’s incredible.”
“I have a friend who’s a makeup artist.” He tugged on the cap, the brim shadowing his sunglasses. “She fixes me up with these—people focus on it and don’t bother with the rest.” He pulled on a gray hoodie that covered his arm tats, and suddenly, he wasn’t Fox the rock star but Fox the gorgeous, intelligent, fun guy who was going to the market with her early on a Sunday morning.
Feeling her heart twist in a way that heralded trouble, she didn’t resist when he put an arm around her waist once they’d stepped out of the Ferrari—even though it wasn’t safe, wasn’t sensible.
She already knew that in a month, when he left, it would hurt.
“That is a smokin’ car,” the attendant said, having wandered over to admire it.
Fox halted. “You have a license?”
“Yeah.”
“Keep an eye on it and I’ll let you drive it around the block.”
“Man, thank you.” Shocked awe on the teenager’s face. “Man, shit. I’ll make sure no one touches it.”
Sliding his hand into the back pocket of her jeans as they left the lot, Fox allowed her to set the pace of their exploration. She’d worried the lip ring would make him noticeable, but no one seemed to pay him much mind even when he ditched the sunglasses, asking her to keep them in her purse. Of course, he attracted plenty of admiring female glances, with more than one envious one leveled at Molly, but none of that had to do with his rock star status. No, it was Fox’s raw sexual appeal.
“This is my favorite section,” she said, leading him to the dubious antiques while wondering how any woman stayed sane in a relationship with a man so desired by others. The idea of Fox with another woman—
Strangling the thought before it could ruin their day, she went to the best stall. “Some of it is actually real. Like this.” She picked up a teacup and saucer in beautiful condition. “See the mark on the bottom?” she whispered. “And they’re selling it for only five dollars.”
Fox pulled out a five and handed it to the stall owner before she could go for her wallet. Opening her mouth to protest, she saw the glint in his eye and knew he was expecting it. “Thank you,” she said instead, giving the cup and saucer to the stall owner’s son so he could wrap it up in cushioning newspaper.
“Good choice, baby.” His breath warm against her skin as he leaned in, one hand on her lower back, he said, “Don’t you feel guilty fleecing these nice people?”
She pointed to another similar set as her nipples grew tight and sensitive against the lace of her bra. “I saw that at our version of Walmart last week for seven bucks. He’s selling it for twenty. Trust me, they make their money.”
Fox carried her purchases for her as she rummaged for treasures. He was unexpectedly good-natured about the time she spent, even found an old metal lighter he thought David would get a kick out of. “He doesn’t smoke anymore, but he collects these.”
A fun two hours later, Molly picked up the fresh vegetables she wanted and they headed back to the horse-racing track turned parking lot where Fox’s car sat unmolested, the teenager on stern guard. Seeing Fox, he grinned and shoved his hands into the pockets of baggy camo cargos belted so low on his hips Molly half expected them to fall off. “So, we’re sweet, right?”
Fox fist-bumped the boy in answer. Glancing at Molly after he’d put the shopping in the trunk, he said, “You mind riding in the back?”
“That’s not happening.” A five-year-old would have trouble squeezing in there. “I’ll grab a coffee and wait while you two go for your ride.”
Kissing her to the kid’s wolf whistle, his hand cupping the side of her face with a tenderness she was coming to expect from her hard-rock lover, Fox said, “I’ll be back soon.”
Happiness floated in her blood, tiny bursts of starlight.
Fear attempted to take hold on its heels, but Molly locked it out. Not today, not this month.
She’d have endless time for regrets after Fox was gone. And though she knew it could never be any other way, for a piercing instant as she watched Fox laugh with the excited teenager, the sound entangling her heart, she wished it could. Wished her life had been different. Wished she was the kind of brave, strong woman who could give a man like Fox what he needed not just for a single month, but for a lifetime.