Page 8 of Excitable Boy
Chapter Three
By Tuesday afternoon, Shayla had to admit she enjoyed driving Tony’s SUV. She stopped at two car dealerships on her way home, Ford and Honda, just to look around.
Which reminded her the other reason she hated shopping for cars—the salesmen.
Wednesday she looked at Toyotas and Nissans. By Thursday, she knew one thing for certain—Car shopping sucks balls.
She hadn’t bugged Tony about whether or not he was returning on Friday, but she suspected he wouldn’t be or he would’ve told her already. She was perusing local car listings on her laptop when he called her Thursday evening.
“Hello, Sir.”
“Hello, pet.” She hated how exhausted he sounded. “Well, do you want the good news, or the bad news?”
Her heart sank. “Bad news, Sir.”
“I won’t be home tomorrow night.”
She’d already suspected that, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. “And the good news?”
“I’ll be home Saturday morning.” She heard the smile in his voice and realized the sadist had played her again.
The squeal escaped, making him laugh. “Saturday? For good?”
“For good, pet. I’ll send you the flight info tomorrow. Have you decided on a new car yet?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“What?”
“A good, gently used Honda CRV, blue. One owner.”
He hesitated. “Another CRV? The same color blue as mine, or a different blue?”
“Um, not exactly.”
“Peeeet?”
She finally admitted it. “Can I just have the CRV and we buy you a new car?Pleeeease, Sir?”
* * * *
Eyes closed, Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and fought the urge to groan. Mike was driving them back to the hotel and Tony had used the time to call her. “You don’t want a new car?”
“I like your car, Sir. It’s yours.”
He blew out an aggravated breath. “You’ve made up your mind already, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He opened his eyes. He was soooo sick of Denver he could scream. “All right, pet. When you pick us up from the airport on Saturday, make sure you bring the license plate and registration from the Civic with you, the checkbook, and make sure we have the most recent insurance card.”
“Sir?”
“We’re buying a damn car. We’ll get a Honda Pilot. I like those, and a friend of mine works at the dealership in Sarasota.”
“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”
He swallowed back his irritation. “It’s all right, pet. I love you.”
