Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
He rests his forehead against mine. “There’s one more thing.” He picks something up off the counter and I recognize the tickets. They’re to the biggest car show of the year that I’d always go to with my dad. I’ve forgotten all about it because the last one was right before he died. I can’t believe it’s been almost a year.
“You going to come?” he asks me.
I used to love car shows and now I avoid them. My dad is gone, along with the old Mustang we used to work on together that we’d enter in shows. He’d give me hell if he knew I missed this show.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” I say, and Bronx drops the tickets back down onto the counter. His smile is only getting bigger, and though my man is so damn sexy, when he’s smiling he’s something else altogether.
“Not yet you’re not.” He slides his hands under the shirt I’m wearing as he drops to his knees in front of me. He throws my legs over his shoulders and winks. “But you will be.”
My laugh turns into a moan as he lowers his mouth onto me and we break in the salon. He’s right, though, because I do come. Over and over again.
Chapter Twelve
Bronx
We’re running late by the time we get to the car show because Gemma wanted to get dolled up. And definitely not because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.
I take her hand as we walk to the expo center and the guy at the door waves us in. When we step inside I glance over to see her eyes light up and I’m happy that she’s excited and not sad about today. It’s important for her to be here, but I was worried that she might not be ready. I give her hand a little squeeze and she winks at me.
Goddamn is my woman beautiful. She looks like a pinup from the 1950s with the red bandana in her hair. She’s got on a white top that’s off the shoulder, red short-shorts, and red heels with cherries on them. I want to kiss her lips and mess up the lipstick she so carefully applied, but I know if I do I won’t be able to stop.
“Where’s the map?” She’s looking around the entrance for the map of the featured cars. She always loves looking for her favorites and seeing those first.
“Don’t worry about it, I know what you want to see,” I say as I pull her into the building and she smiles up at me.
“I bet you do.”
I’m nervous because this is a big moment for us. We’re out in the open as a couple, and people who have known us for a long time stop and stare as we walk by. I don’t like even a little bit of distance between us, so I pull her into my side and drape my arm over her shoulder.
When we get to the other side of the building I spot Roxy and Mitch. They wave to us and Roxy has a sly smile like she was expecting this.
“You mind waiting here for a second?” I ask Gemma.
“Where are you sneaking off too?” She playfully tugs on my shirt and I lean down to place a kiss on her lips.
“I’ll be right back.” I admit nothing as I walk over to Mitch and he nods to me. I nod back in thanks and then make my way to the showcase.
When I get to the stage I wave to one of the boys up there who gives the signal. Suddenly the music that was playing over the speakers changes and the new song starts to play. I walk over to the car that’s featured under the spotlight and I wait.
I see the red bandana through the crowd slowly making its way to where I’m at. Right behind her are Roxy and Mitch as she walks through the sea of people and then to the front.
“Bronx,” she whispers and her hands go to her mouth.
I reach out and pull her to me on the small stage next to the Mustang that belonged to her and her dad. I got the car from the junkyard and I’ve been working on it ever since. I couldn’t bring her dad back, but I could bring back a piece of the love they shared. It took a lot of hours, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my girl.
“Is this—” She can hardly speak past the tears.
“Yeah, babe. This is it.” I take her hands in mine and slowly lower my knee to the carpet in front of her. The crowd starts cheering as I pull out a box and the spotlight shines on us. “I love you, Gemma,” I say simply, sliding the ring on her finger.
The cheers and whistles lessen as they wait for her response, but all she can do is bite her bottom lip and nod. I leap up and swing her around in my arms.