Best Erotic Romance by Kristina Wright (ed)

Author:Kristina Wright (ed) [Kristina Wright (ed)]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2011-11-30T13:00:00+00:00

THE DRAFT

Craig J. Sorensen

Sarah could have played it safe and bought a VW bug. Cheap, easy to fix, and they were aplenty.

But there was something about the cockpit of the long-nosed, bright red 1948 MG-TC. Still, the noise that ground up from the engine of the twenty-year-old car as she descended the Sierras told her it was not eager to make the round trip. It groaned as it hit the tarmac of a truck stop near Reno. She reluctantly turned the engine off. She tried to turn the engine over, and it made an evil noise. Yes, it was done.

Sarah gathered her midnight-blue polka-dot dress at the knees and slipped through the tiny right-hand door. She opened the engine compartment, and the black smoke slithered out like a cobra, dancing. She made a pistol shape with her left hand and turned it to the engine, covered her own eyes like a blindfold. “Good-bye, old girl.” She made a gun sound.

The sound of “Taps” being played. A broad-chested man with a bit of a belly saluted while rendering a convincing bugle sound. Sarah clasped her hand to her heart until he finished the soulful rendition with a smooth vibrato. “Tell me you know something about cars?”

“Cars you bet. These things, no.”

“You don’t like my baby?”

“Oh, she looks real nice.” The man looked inside the engine compartment, then sniffed. “You were right to put it out of its misery.”

“That’s me, a real humanitarian.”

“Not every little lady thinks so practical.” He had the face of an eagle with a hooked nose. Bright, mischievous eyes glowed in the mercury vapor parking lot lights. “Can I buy you breakfast?”

“I can buy my own.”

“Fair enough.” He walked away.

“Is the food good here?” She took quick steps to cover the distance his sturdy long stride placed between them.

“Ain’t heard the old saying ’bout where truckers eat?” He waved at the long line of trucks.

“Guess I have.” Sarah caught up. “I can pay, but it doesn’t mean I want to eat alone.” Funny thing was, she was never bothered by eating alone. He held the door open for her. She waved for him to go, and he shrugged then walked in first.

“I’m Sarah.” She extended her right hand as they sat on opposite bright red benches of the booth.

“Dave.” He took her hand delicately. The edges of his calluses felt like strips of sandpaper around a leather-smooth palm. His hand swallowed hers; she felt compelled to squeeze hard. “Nice grip, little lady.” He shook his thick paw. “So, you always drive so early?”

His reaction made her smile. “Felt like getting an early start.”

A broad, blond mustache covered his upper lip, slightly unkempt, and his cheeks were full. His hair was short, and he had a deep cleft in his broad chin.

A waitress in her mid-thirties approached. She was kind of pretty in thick black-cat glasses. She had an Olive Oyl body that she carried with strange grace. “Well, as I live and breathe. How ya been, Dave darlin’?”

His soft accent begat a warm drawl.

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