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He was referring to 1989 Land Rover Defender. I'd traded my last vehicle in for it, falling in love with the beefy luxury SUV, which had been restored to mint condition, and converted from hard top to convertible. And, as awkward as this situation now was, I’d purchased it as a gift for Brant. It had been my attempt to, in some small way, repay him for the gifts he had a tendency to lavish on me.
Unfortunately for me, Brant hadn't been a fan of the vehicle. In the brutally honest fashion I loved, he’d told me as soon as he’d opened the black velvet box and paired the set of keys inside with the gleaming two-door in front of him.
"SUVs aren't really my thing." He’d passed the key box back to me, a sheepish look stealing over his face. "I don't like the insecurity of them. And the IIHS safety rating placed them in the worst classification for risk of rollover. The—"
"It's okay." I smiled at him. "I should have asked."
"I just don't need a vehicle I won't drive." He leaned over, looped a hand around my waist and kissed the top of my head. “Do you mind?"
Did I mind? I had stared blankly at the truck. "No babe. I'm glad you told me.”
And I was, sort of.
A BSX employee had driven the vehicle to my house, where it’d spent most of its life in the garage. Now, Lee was in my driveway and about to swoon over the damn thing. “You like it?” I asked, already convinced of the answer, giving the way he was circling the truck, his eyes aglow.
“It’s fucking sick. Is this the V8? What year is this?” He was now on his knees, looking at the undercarriage, and when he hissed at what he saw, it was the same sound he made when he pressed his cock inside of me. I didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.
“It’s an 89.”
“Shit, this thing must be worth a fortune. You got the keys?”
I guess there was no reason not to take it. What difference did it make? Still, it felt odd. I nodded to the lockbox on the wall. “The keys are in there. Code is 029.”
He stood and strode over the box, punching in the combination and then turning to grin at me when it popped open. “Damn, Lucky. Shouldn’t give strangers the keys to your castle so easily. What if I come back and steal all of these?”
It was such a ridiculous statement that I laughed, then reached for the passenger door handle. "I'd know where to find you. You gonna drive?”
He jumped into the front seat, his hands running over the leather-wrapped steering wheel in appreciation before cranking the engine. The rumble of the diesel engine was loud in the garage and I buckled the canvas seat belt, then tied back my hair with an elastic band.
I had always been intimidated by the three-thousand-pound hunk of steel, but Lee seemed made for it, his frame relaxed as he shifted into reverse and gunned the engine with a comfortable ease.
This was exactly what I’d imagined when I bought the truck, and maybe that's why I bought it. Maybe I was trying to take my clean-cut genius and dump him into a tub of masculinity, to roughen up his smooth edges. I hung my arm out the window and swallowed my side of guilt. With the squeal of tires, Lee pulled out through my gates.
Ten minutes later, the blare of the radio competing with the whip of wind, I hit Lee's arm and pointed. "There." In the adjacent shopping center, there was a wings bar tucked between a discount hair salon and a pharmacy. An OPEN sign in red neon was lit, and Lee turned into the center. There were a cluster of cars in front, and he pulled into a spot three rows back, with empty spaces on both sides. He climbed out and waited for me at the rear bumper, his hand resting on the side of the Defender a little longer than necessary, longing in his eyes.
I fell into step beside him, our hips bumping as we walked toward the restaurant, his arm looping around my shoulder, the gesture casual yet familiar. All it had taken was a few weeks of sex and we were at ease in each other's presence. Impulsively, I leaned over and pressed a kiss against his cheek. He squeezed me tighter, extending the contact as if in approval of the action.
Maybe I was telling myself lies, but this didn't feel like a rebound. It felt like it fit, and for a moment, I let myself believe that it would all work. He would fall in love with me and only me. He would be loyal. He would—my thoughts stalled when my gaze collided with Jillian’s.
Her eyes were steely and sharp, and dissected both of us, noticing everything about Lee in one long glance. A billboard of emotions shuttered across her face as she processed his arm over my shoulder, the lazy stroll of his gait, his stretched-out shirt. I couldn’t look away and stumbled to a stop as her critical gaze found its way back to my eyes. There, we held each other, two women on opposite sides of a battlefield, my weapons sex and passion, hers the ties of family and history. We held an entire conversation through that stare. A heated battle of emotions, arguments discussed with tightened lips and silent looks. Then, the battle ended, the older woman closing her eyes in one, long, pained moment. I felt her disappointment. Her anger. Her frustration. I knew it because I felt it in my own heart.
I pulled away from Lee and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, my hands dipping into my pockets.
He registered the action. "What’s up? You don’t want wings?” He glanced over at Jillian and dismissed her as an issue.
“This is a friend of mine. Go on in. I'll be there in a minute."
He shrugged. “Sure. Whatever." He strolled on and nodded at Jillian as he passed. “Hey there.”
From the cringe on her face, I bet that he winked at her in passing.
I stayed in place, a statue of dread, and waited until he swung open the door and stepped into the bar, the music and noise sounding, then muting as the door closed behind him. Still, we stood in silence, two opposing forces separated by a half dozen feet of parking lot.
"What are you doing, Layana?" her voice was beaten, as if we’d had this argument a million times and she couldn't bear to go through it again.
"I can't..." I stopped. Tried to find my words. "You know what Brant's like." I dipped my head in the direction of Lee. "He's different. I tried ... but I can't stay away."
"You love Brant." She let out a heavy sigh. "I know you do."
