Page 9 of Take Hold of Me

“You know, driving is actually quite fun.”

“I am having a lot of fun.” Her bottom lip is back between her teeth.Damn.

I turn on the radio, even though it could be a distraction for the new driver. Classic rock fills the cab. “Let’s loosen you up.”

Emilie looks at me, wide-eyed, and bursts into laughter. Her giggle is contagious, and it takes everything I have not to join in with her. I can’t encourage her. She can’t want to be with me—she needs to be with someone who deserves her. Someone who doesn’t kill everything he touches. I choke out, “I meant that I want you to be more relaxed behind the wheel.”

Her eyes roam over me as if touching every part of my body.

Music from the radio crackles between us.

“Why don’t you try to park in your driveway?” I croak, pointing to the right.

She pulls forward—smoothly—and stops in front of her driveway.

“Put on your blinker.”

The windshield washers start up. She giggles and activates the proper turn-signal switch.

“You’re doing good. Now pull in and put the car in park.”

While she’s following my instructions, I make a mental note to take her to a proper parking lot next time.Whoa. What am I thinking?Her next time will be with a real instructor, one that I’ve vetted. For both our sakes. But she needs encouragement from me right now. “Way to go, Emilie. Great first try!”

“Thanks!”

“Now, back out and let’s do it again.”

She slouches against the seat. “Again?”

I nod at her and point. “You asked me to teach you and I’m not going to go easy.”

She gets a determined look on her face and puts the car into reverse.

Music provides the backdrop as we drive around the block a few more times. “You’re doing great, Emilie. Do you feel comfortable in moving on, or do you want to keep driving in your neighborhood?”

“I would like to pull into my driveway again.”

“Be my guest.”

When the Jeep’s in park, she tilts her head against the driver’s side headrest and exhales loudly. Her body language reminds me of when I finish a grueling workout—exhausted but exhilarated.

I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder, which is as tight as a boulder. Without thought, I knead it awkwardly for a moment. “You did really well for your first try.”

She turns her head and looks at me. “I have a great teacher.”

For a moment, we lock eyes and something in the air changes.

Energizes.

Stills.

The song on the radio stops and is replaced with a one-minute global news update. Emilie’s ponytail swings when the reporter mentions an uptick of gang-related kidnappings for sex trafficking in Rio.

“I am going to Rio. On Sunday.”

I swallow hard. “For a shoot?”

“Oui. ForSwimsuit Annual.”

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