It was a hiss more than anything else and oh, so delicious. Now to go in for the kill…

“I’m wearing them now.” She said it aloud instead of texting it. And saw instant, white-hot desire flare up in his eyes.

An answering rush of heat charged through her.

“Abby, we don’t have to do this.” The corners of his mouth softened into a look of genuine affection as he studied her from across the table. “I was wrong. We can most definitely be friends. I’ve really enjoyed this past week with you. More than I’d ever imagined possible.”

“But—”

“No, just listen. You’re special to me, Abby. I hated hearing you say you were going to be just like my other one-month women.” He held her gaze. “You’ll never be ‘just’ anything. Let alone that.”

Emotions swelled up out of her chest. Every day in every way Connor just kept getting more irresistible. “You promised me the one month, Connor. I want it.”

The look in his eyes switched from desire to determination as he walked over to her and held out his hand. “Come outside with me for a bit.”

Abby looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “What? Now?”

“Please. I want to show you something.”

Curiosity overruling her stubbornness, Abby took his outstretched hand and followed him out to the garage. But when he led her over to the second garage door, not the one where he parked his Lexus, she hesitated. “You’re not going to show me some sex dungeon or something in there are you?”

He chuckled. “No. Nothing like that.”

Feeling a buzz of excitement unfurl in her stomach over the unfamiliar, almost childlike joy she saw in his eyes, she turned quickly to see what was behind the mystery door, the slow hum of the rising garage door motor resounding like a drumroll.

“You’re kidding me.”

Beaming proudly, he circled the gunpowder black car, trailing his hand along the hood. “It’s a 1971 Dodge Charger.”

Looking at its iconic design, she asked the first thing that popped in her mind. “Like the Dukes of Hazzard car?”

Another chuckle. “Similar. That was a ’69. This one was the first of the third generation Chargers. A class of its own.” He took another lap around the car before patting the top of it as if to say, ‘good boy.’

She realized she was still gaping a bit but seeing Connor petting and talking so affectionately about this gritty muscle car was making her brain do cartwheels.

“Do you like it?”

The question came out casually, but she could hear the current of emotion filtering around it. This was important to him. A test of sorts. Realizing this, she took a step back and gave his car an honest look.

Along with a classic, streamlined shape, the car had one of those rugged vented hoods—not quite Fast and the Furious but close. It had character. Quietly powerful. Nostalgically masculine. And sexy as hell with Connor leaning against it.

Taking a deep breath, she ventured, “Actually, I do like it. I mean I don’t know a lot about cars but I do have memories of my dad and uncle working on this sixties convertible on the weekends when I was a kid. Clearly, they were really bad at it because it was still barely running when they ‘finished’ a few years later. But I remember playing inside it a lot while they were tinkering with the engine.”

She smiled and peeked at the interior. “This car reminds me of that one. And though I can’t explain why, it sort of reminds me of you, too.”

She must’ve answered right, because he rewarded her with a slow smile so luminous, she froze and simply watched it play across his face. Afraid any sudden movements would scare it away.

“I wasn’t nearly as ambitious as your dad and uncle. I had this professionally restored.”

The way his voice changed, warmed when he talked about the car, made an emotional lump grow in her throat. She’d never heard him speak this way about anyone or anything until now. This was a glimpse at a side of Connor she knew very few—if any—got to see.

“Tell me about your car, Connor.” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.

“It’s a pretty recent purchase. I got it a few months ago when I made equity partner.”

“Interesting midlife car choice,” she teased gently.

He barked out a laugh. “See, this is why you could never be ‘just’ one my other women. Not one of them would ever call me old. At least not until after I’d ended things with them.”

“Just imagine what things I’ll say when things are over between us,” she joshed lightly. She’d meant it as a joke but immediately regretted it when some of the light left Connor’s eyes. “Hey, I was kidding.”

Instead of responding, he asked simply, “You want to go for a ride?”

Desperately wanting to repair things, she tried again for humor, “Can I drive?”

Thankfully, his smile returned. “On the way back, I promise.”

Before he could head over to the driver’s side, however, she caught his arm. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Don’t be.” He looked into her eyes and said softly, “It wasn’t what you said; it was the reminder that our days are numbered. I get sad thinking about it is all.”

That right there was the exact moment Abby knew…she wasn’t in danger of just getting her heart broken by Connor; she was in danger of losing it to him completely.

CHAPTER TWELVE

A COMFORTABLY SILENT half hour later, they were headed north with the windows down and the engine rumbling loud and low.

All the while, Abby couldn’t stop staring at Connor; he’d never looked so free, so happy.

So content.

By the time he pulled over on a deserted gravel road near Cactus Creek, he was a different man. Just a man. No longer a big time corporate attorney.

“No one even knows I have this car.”

“Really? Why not? This is kind of a chick magnet.”

Even his laughter sounded different. More alive. “Not to any of the women I usually date.”

“Maybe if you showed them the interior…” she suggested, running an appreciative hand along the wide, buttery soft seat that was specifically designed to look, but not be vintage, and also allow her to slide all the way over to Connor if she so desired.

“A woman after my own heart. The bench seats were a custom install.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “Unlike the original ones, however, these do this—”

He reached on his side of the seat and she let out a yelp as the entire front bench seat reclined down flat, lining up with the back seat and in effect, turning the car into a giant bed on wheels.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and rolled over to him, laughing. “This is so awesomely cheesy. You’ve really never brought a woman riding in this?”

“Nope. I usually just drive it out here and take a short nap in whatever shade I can find. Some weeks, it’s the most restful sleep I get.”

“Because you’re free.” It was a statement, not a question.

He looked up at her, startled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only because of the goofy look on your face,” she said as she put her head on his chest.

His arm came around her and she closed her eyes, listened to the silence of the desert forest surrounding them.

“It’s funny how you and I have lived such distinctly opposite lives. You see me as a bad boy now but growing up, I was the perfect kid. No bad habits, a 4.3 gpa, and a spot-free room you could feature in a magazine.”

“And you’re related to Brian how again?”

He chuckled. “I envied him when we were younger, you know. Not his messy room, of course, but his way of life. He always seemed to go through life with such ease, good at everything but never wanting for anything. All of our father’s expectations for him slid right off him like a magnet on its back.”

His voice warmed with brotherly admiration. “Brian was going to be what he was going to be, period.”

Abby smiled. “He’s still like that.”