Her Dad's Friend by Penny Wylder

Author:Penny Wylder [Wylder, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penny Wylder Books
Published: 2016-08-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

I don’t have a car. Well, I did, but ended up selling it for a few hundred dollars. I was lucky to get that much. It was an old Datsun that was literally held together with duct tape. At least the doors and windows were. Some things had to be sacrificed to get my apartment. Gas and insurance were expenses I just couldn’t afford.

Normally Emily gives me a ride home from school, but she had somewhere she needed to be so I’m taking the bus. It’s about an hour trek across town when it would only take ten minutes by car, if that. At least the weirdos riding with me are entertaining.

As I’m walking out to the parking lot, I see a tank-sized pickup truck with a lumber rack taking up two spaces in the lot made for eco-friendly subcompacts. Paul is standing next to it with a fist full of lilies. This contrast of soft and hard is almost jarring to the eye. My heart jumps around in my chest. I should not be this happy to see a man who’s going to bounce out of my life just as fast as he swept in.

“What are you doing here?” I say, trying to maintain some semblance of keeping my shit together.

He hands me the lilies, our fingers grazing as I take them. His hands are the only thing even remotely aged about him. They are calloused and scarred from a lifetime of hard work, building things, and putting them together, making sure everything fits just right. But it’s exactly those “flaws” that make them sexy as hell.

He kisses me lightly on the mouth, then follows up with a peck on the nose. When we separate, people are watching us. They probably thought he was my dad before that kiss, but since Paul doesn’t seem to mind what people think, I sure as shit don’t either.

“I want to spend some time with you out of the bedroom.” He nudges my shoulder playfully. “Until later, that is.”

A swarm of pterodactyls rises up in my stomach. I’m beyond butterflies at this point. At least I have the promise of another night with him. I’ll take what I can get.

He opens the passenger side door, and I get in. It’s an older pickup with the black paint chipped and peeling. The interior is ripped up and dirty and smells like gasoline and burned oil. The floorboards are covered in chunks of dried cement and drywall dust. The whole thing just oozes testosterone. He could afford any vehicle he wanted, according to my dad, yet he sticks with tried and true. I find it so endearing that I can’t help but look at him adoringly with a stupid smile on my face.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“It’s a surprise.”

He drives with one hand loose on the steering wheel and the other dangling out the open window. There’s something arousing about a confident driver. Or maybe I’m just really horny. Doesn’t seem to matter what Paul does; it’s all a turn on for me.

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