Page 49 of Her Wild Ride

All in good time.

“Hey there, stud.” She pokes my chest and her fingerprint burns through my shirt. I want to catch her hand and spin her against me into a kiss.

“Who are you?” I can’t resist touching a curled tendril.

She frowns and it’s adorable. “Sandy from Grease. Bad Sandy.” She licks her lips and I laugh. “That was supposed to be sexy,” she pouts.

She has no idea how sexy the all-black ensemble is. Her thickly-lined red lips is giving me all the right feels, but shoppers sweep into her tent. It’s not the right time to sweep her off her feet and show her exactly how sexy I think she is.

“Did you raid my sister’s closet?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.” She gasps and her hands land on my chest. “If you slick your hair back and put on your leather jacket, you could be Danny Zuko.”

I gasp and clutch her hands. “No.”I slip out of her grasp and out some distance between us before I kiss her in front of half the town.

The day is even busier than yesterday. Especially the last hour when the kids trick or treat at all the vendor tents. By five, the vendors all pack up and the event is over.

“See you at the house, son.” My dad climbs into the driver side of the truck.

I open the passenger side door for Bexley and offer my hand as she climbs inside.

“Are you going to home?” I ask her.

My dad replies before she can answer. “And waste that pretty costume, I think not. We’re having a barbecue at the house.”

“That’s code for party,” Bexley tells me.

“I guess I’ll see you there.”

“I guess you will.”

I shut the door and reluctantly step back. I’d rather Bexley drive with me, but she doesn’t make any hints. Which also makes me think we’re still not on the same page. But I have tonight to change her mind.

Tonight.

Tomorrow.

And ever day after.

Bexley wasn’t kidding about the party. The backyard and driveway are packed full of people standing or lounging in lawn chairs. Coolers of alcohol are every few feet away and my brothers have a few barbecues grilling meat.

I have a quick shower and change before heading back down.

“Beer.” Rock tosses me a cold can dripping water from the cooler.

“Thanks.” The canhisses when I pop the lid.

“How was your weekend of being dad’s slave?” Rock flips a steak.

“I ain’t no one’s slave.” I guzzle the beer,

Searching the crowds for Bexley.

“Maybe not when you’re on the road, but here, you’ll always be dad’s little bitch.”

“That might be why I was on the road so long.”

I spot Bexley chatting with a group of women I don’t recognize. She’s still wearing that sexy Sandy costume. I want to waltz right over and claim her as mine in front of every last person here. I don’t dare. She wouldn’t like it.

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