Page 5 of Dust to Dust

“Don’t look at it as stealing—it’s just borrowing.”

“You know Da won’t look at it like that. Especially since he hasn’t even had the chance to drive it himself yet.”

Rian’s eyes lit up. “You mean, we could break her in?”

Holding up my hands, I countered, “There’s no we. I want no part in this.”

“Stop being a dryshite for one second and do something spontaneous.”

His words sent a jolt through me. They were so much like Maura’s when we were together. Maybe I did need to get my head out of my arse and start living more.

With a roll of my eyes, I said, “Fine. I’ll get the key.”

Rian clapped his hands together. “Now you’re talking.”

I walked around the car and over to the garage. “Evening, Vance,” I said to the guard on duty.

“Evening.”

“Where’s the key to the car they delivered today?”

His salt and pepper brows popped wide. “The Aston Martin?”

“That one.”

“You sure you’re wanting to take that one, boyo?”

I flashed him a shark-like smile. “Aye. I’m in the mood to piss my Da off.”

He snorted before eyeing the box that held the keys to all the estate cars. After taking out a shiny one, he replied, “It goes without saying not to feck up the car, but watch yourself with the key. It’s two thousand pounds to replace it.”

“Jaysus,” I muttered as I took the key from him. I then shot him a sheepish look. “If anyone asks, you didn’t see me take these.”

He chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

As I started back to the car, Rian leaned back against the hood. “Why don’t you drive to the pub, and then I’ll drive your pissed self home?”

“That sounds like a plan.”

The next thing I knew Rian had snatched the key from my hand. Laughing, he replied, “You’re too gullible, mate.”

“If any Kavanaugh is breaking her in, it’ll be me,” I protested.

“Fat fecking chance!”

Before I could snatch the key back, Rian sprinted over to the driver’s side with me close on his heels. Cackling, he flung the door open and slid across the seat.

As he fumbled to put the key in the ignition, I jerked one of his hands off the steering wheel. “I’ve got fifty pounds on you, you langer! Don’t make me drag you out of there and beat your arse.”

Rian threw his head back and laughed at my comment. “You’d really kick my arse before letting me drive this car?” At my nod, he sighed. “All right. I concede.”

“Glad to talk some sense into you.”

He started to get out, but then gave me a cheeky wink. “Sucker.”

“You asshole!” I protested with a laugh.

Grinning, Rian brought his other leg into the car. “Bitch seat is waiting,” he mused as he slid the key in the ignition.

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