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"Yes, really." Erin chuckled and tossed him the keys.
Unbelievable. He caught them and grinned. "Yeah. I'd love to." He opened the passenger door for her, then hopped in. He drove sedately through town and put the hammer down when they reached the highway. "Woop!" All that power!
Erin grinned. "Awesome, isn't it?"
Ryan raised his voice over the roar of Smoky's motor. "We all wanted to drive this car so bad. But Sarge wouldn't let us put a finger on it. He gave us the same line he told us about you."
"Line?" Erin wrinkled her brow and her nose.
"A parody of the Marine Rifleman's Creed. 'There are many cars, but this one is mine. Get your own!'"
Erin laughed, a fond smile on her face. "Sounds like Michael." Her eyes narrowed. "But that's about the car. What about me?"
Ryan snort-laughed. "He'd say the same thing about you when we couldn't stop staring. 'There are many wives out there, but this one is mine. Get your own.' Sarge never told you that?" He shouldn't have told her that. He was such an idiot. At least he didn't say they were drooling, or lusting, or something worse.
Erin laughed. "No, he never told me that. He wasn't ridiculously jealous or possessive, but he was blunt. He'd try to be funny and take the edge off it a bit."
Sarge was more sarcastic than funny. "All of us knew better than to touch anything of his, whether it be his tools, the car, or you."
Erin shook her head, a tender smile lighting her face.
Ryan stopped at the last traffic light before the shop. He was first at the line, and he really wanted to see what the car could do. He shot a questioning look at Erin.
She winked. "Go for it!"
The light turned green, and he dropped the hammer. The tires squealed, so he lightened up on the gas a bit, and they rocketed down the road. He watched the tach, shifting right at 3600 rpm all the way through the gears.
Erin punched his arm. "Are you trying to get pulled over?"
Ryan looked at the speedometer. Ninety-five! In a seventy-mile-per-hour zone. Oops. He let off the accelerator to a sedate seventy-two. Hope there aren't any cops around. He glanced at Erin, but she was still smiling. "Sorry."
"It's your record and your job you're putting at risk!" She shrugged.
"Thanks for warning me. I was only looking at the tach and the road." A ticket wouldn't be good for his auto parts delivery job.
Erin laughed. "Figured as much. No problem. I've gotten a ticket or two in this baby too." She patted the dash.
"Not with the Sarge in the car, I bet."
"Are you kidding me?" Erin snorted. "If Michael was home, he drove. I only drove Smoky when he was deployed."
"Really? Man, was he missing out." Ryan shook his head slowly. "I thought he was smarter than that."
"Missing out?" Erin's head tilted, her brow crinkled.
"Are you kidding me?" He shot her an incredulous glance. "Sexy woman driving a cool car? That's so hot." Driving this baby was fun, but watching her? Smokin' hot. It would be even better if she'd drive them someplace quiet... Okay, stop right there, idiot.
Erin laughed again and shook her head. "Right. You're cute."
"I'm not trying to be cute. I am absolutely, one hundred percent truthful. You and this car? Super hot. I can't believe Sarge was such a dumbass." He should probably shut up. Erin didn't think of him that way, and he really shouldn't think of her that way because there was no way she was ever going to end up with him. Ryan turned into the driveway, rolling slowly to her house and into the garage.
Ryan turned Smoky off and handed Erin the keys while avoiding her eyes. He couldn't handle her pity, so he jumped out. She remained in the car, staring straight ahead, which was odd. He rounded the car and opened her door. The keys still dangled from Erin's hand; something had distracted her. He retrieved the keys, opened the trunk, and carried the boxes inside, putting them in her refrigerator. On his way back to grab the groceries, he almost ran into Erin, holding the bags. He stepped back against the wall. "Is there anything left?"
"No, I got it. Thanks for getting the boxes. You put them in the fridge?" Her words were polite but her face rather blank, somehow distant.
He shook away his puzzlement and answered her question. "Yeah. I can take the big box over with me tomorrow morning."
"Sure. That will be fine." She brushed by him. "I'm going to get the pizza dough out of the fridge so it can warm a bit before I try to shape it."
