Page 9 of Wild Child
I put my foot up on the dashboard and rest my elbow against it for stability.
“No boots on the dash.”
I turn to look at Quentin with my eyeliner poised in my hand and keep my foot on the dash.
“Then you’ll have to pull over while I do this, because there’s no way to keep my hand steady, and I don’t want to poke my eye out.”
He frowns at me. “I’m not stopping so you can do your makeup.”
Of course he’s not. It wasn’t on the itinerary.
“Fine then.”
I keep my foot on the dash and lean forward. As I get close to my eye, the van swerves.
“Hey!” I glance over, and Quentin’s staring straight ahead at the road. “Did you do that on purpose?”
He keeps looking straight ahead. “I don’t know what you mean, Charlotte. But you need to get your boots off my dash.”
Dawn is breaking over the mountain ranges and his profile is backlit, showing off his strong jawline and pronounced forehead. His hair is cropped short, and if there’s any grey it’s hidden in the blonde. The outline of his muscles can be seen through his tight t-shirt. It’s obvious Quentin still works out. He might have left the military, but it’s never left him.
His tone is calm and sure, and when he says my name a shiver dances down my spine. He’s used to commanding men, and he’s good at it.
Slowly, I remove my boot from the dash. A ghost of a smile appears across Quentin’s face and that tugs at all the rebelliousness inside me. I can’t let him win a total victory.
I undo the laces of my black steel capped boots and slide them off. My foot comes up on the dash, and Quentin glares at my bright pink fluffy socks.
“You said no boots.”
He looks away, muttering under his breath. I lean forward with my eyeliner, smiling to myself as I finish my make up.
“You don’t need all that makeup anyway,” he says.
I bat my eyes at him “Are you calling me beautiful?”
He looks away, embarrassed, and I laugh. “I’m just fucking with ya.”
“And don’t cuss. It doesn’t sound nice to hear you cuss.”
“So men are allowed to swear and woman aren’t? Hello, we’re living in the twenty-first century. I will not be beholden to some male ideal of what a woman is meant to be.”
He rolls his eyes. “Jeez, Charlie. It doesn’t sound nice for anyone to cuss. I heard enough of it in the military, and I don’t like hearing it now. There are better words to use to describe something. You’ve got a brain in your head. Use it.”
I stare at him. I never knew he had so many ideas about what’s proper and what’s not. There’s more to my father’s best friend than an uptight ex-army sergeant.
“I’m just messing with ya.”
He nods curtly. “See, there’s no need to swear.”
“No fucking need,” I say under my breath.
Quentin gives me a sharp look. I hide my smile behind my hand, and he shakes his head and looks back to the road.
I’m travelling with the world’s biggest grump. This is going to be one long road trip.
5
QUENTIN
