Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“You like cars?”
“No.” I snorted. “But this one is the coolest freaking car I’ve ever seen.”
That’s when Rafe Whitman smiled at me for the very first time.
I swear my heart and clit swelled in unison.
“Yeah?” He looked boyishly pleased about my interest in his car. It was such a sexy look and I hated that I thought he was sexy. “Well, she was a shell. Part of the reason it took so long to restore her was because sourcing original parts is not easy. For a start, someone had taken out the engine. It took time, but I finally tracked down a 421-cubic-inch two-plus-two V8 engine. The 1965 was the only model that featured that type of engine. She’s got a four-speed synchromesh manual transmission with the Hurst shifter,” he relayed as he stroked said shifter. Who knew talking about cars could be so sexual? Or maybe it was just Rafe talking about cars.
“The chrome work, the paint work?”
His expression was wry. “We learned what we could about restoring her and got a lot of help from my dad’s old mechanic friend at a garage in Harrison, but the bodywork . . . I left that to the professionals.”
“She really is a beauty. Not at all what I expected you to drive.”
Just like that, his frown returned. “What did you expect me to drive?”
I shrugged. “Something practical.”
I knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say because the atmosphere inside the coolest car ever suddenly did not match the car’s vibe.
“So, do you remember everything from yesterday?” Rafe’s tone was formal, detached again.
Apparently, the “practical” comment offended him. After the things he’d said to me?
You’d think someone who could dish out the honesty could take it in return.
We spent the rest of the journey upstate going over information about his family. He added things he hadn’t told me yesterday, but he was right. It was all fresh in my mind for meeting them.
Something occurred to me, however, once we were in Harrison. We’d driven down leafy, tree-lined streets and had just turned onto a street separated into entrance and exit by an island of beautiful, perfectly trimmed trees. “Uh, we haven’t discussed how we supposedly got together after meeting at Pippa’s?”
“I told my family I got your number from the company you work for. That I lied and told them I wanted to hire you. My mother found it pretty romantic,” he said dryly.
I chuckled, the tension releasing a little now that he was being more affable. “Okay. And where did we go on our first date?”
“I took you to Konbanwa, my favorite sushi restaurant in Manhattan.”
I grimaced. “I hate sushi.”
“Seriously?”
“Don’t act so surprised . . .” I faded off as I noted the enormous homes we passed. Rafe took a left down another tree-lined road, passing a few more large houses on either side of a traffic circle with a large tree in the middle. He drove off the circle and toward a low stone wall with white gates. He picked up a key fob from the center dash and clicked it. The gate swung open and we drove onto the circular brick-paved driveway of a stunning house nestled among the aspens.
“Holy . . .”
It was a two-story red brick with white trim and . . . it was sprawling.
I swallowed hard.
Rafe parked his Pontiac behind a Porsche. There was a fancy white SUV in front of the Porsche. “Don’t act so surprised . . . ?” He reminded me I’d been in the middle of responding to him about sushi.
“Oh, yeah.” I looked away from the mammoth house to him. “That I don’t like sushi.”
He shrugged. “Then we’ll say that. Though it’s a travesty.”
“That I don’t like raw fish in my mouth?”
Rafe wrinkled his nose adorably. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”
I grinned, ignoring the nervous butterflies in my belly. “And our subsequent dates?”
“Movies, dinner, walks in Central Park. The usual.”
“I really feel like we should have practiced this more.”
“We’ll be fine. Just be yourself.” Something wicked glimmered in his eyes. “That will be interesting for all involved.”
Chapter Eight
At first, I didn’t notice any specific details about his family home because Rafe had taken hold of my hand to lead me. He didn’t just clasp my hand either. He linked our fingers together and gave me a squeeze of reassurance that shocked me.
My skin tingled, little sparks of feeling shooting up my arm. And that was all I could concentrate on until I was forced otherwise by the introduction to his family.
That was when I realized the Whitman house was exactly how I’d imagined inside. Vaulted ceilings, a modern farmhouse vibe, and lots of gigantic windows overlooking the sprawling backyard that had total privacy from the woodlands beyond. From what I could see outside the windows, the backyard had terraced levels that led down onto a lawn, a tennis court, and a massive pool.