Momma had already left for work tonight, so I went to her room to spray a little of her Chanel on my cle**age. She used it sparingly, and I wasn’t supposed to touch it.
When I was sure I was ready, I grabbed my truck keys and opened the front door. In my driveway sat a completely loaded black Hummer with dark-tinted windows. Who the hell was that? That wasn’t your average Hummer. It was the kind that was special-ordered. I closed the door behind me and walked down the two cinder block steps.
The driver’s door opened, and out stepped Mr. Porsche. In his hand was a baseball bat. Rock’s baseball bat. Oh damn, I’d forgotten it. Smiling in relief because Rock would’ve killed me had I lost it, I walked over to meet him halfway.
“You forgot something,” he said by way of greeting.
“Thank you,” I replied, taking it from him and sticking it behind my back in case someone drove by and caught me with a baseball bat. That was the last thing I needed after this week.
“Can I trust you with it? Or should I be available for any escape plans?”
Mr. Porsche had a dimple in his right cheek. I hadn’t noticed it before. “I think I’m hanging up my bat. Too much trouble,” I told him.
“Good to hear. Stories of your truck bashing made it all around town this week,” he said with an amused look. “Since the talk is that your escape vehicle was a Porsche, and no one believes Hank because they’re saying no one has a Porsche around here, I decided I’d better drive something else if I was coming over here.”
How did he know that? Sea Breeze was a small town, but it wasn’t that small. Locals didn’t share that kind of stuff with the summer people. He had to know someone with an in. “Who are you?” I asked.
“My name’s Jason,” he replied.
Jason. I didn’t know any Jasons. Other than Jason Condoy, who overdosed last year. I tilted my head and studied him a minute. “So, Jason, who do you know in Sea Breeze? I could have sworn you were right off the island. The Porsche and all gave that away.”
His grin grew and his dimple got deeper. I liked that dimple a lot. “My secret,” he said simply.
I glanced down at his designer clothing and reminded myself that guys like him were so out of my league. I was looking for a local with some potential. That was as good as I was going to get. This guy looked like he would fit in perfectly in Beverly Hills. “Yeah, well, thanks for this and for the other night. I appreciate it,” I said, deciding that prolonging this conversation was pointless.
“You headed somewhere?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m going out. A friend of mine is in a band,” I explained.
Jason didn’t make a move to leave. What was he doing?
“They’re playing at a bar,” I continued.
“You meeting someone there?”
Um . . . what? Was he actually about to ask to go too? No. I had to be reading this wrong. “Uh, friends will be there, I’m sure.”
“But no guy? Or is the friend in the band the guy?”
He was asking me if I had a date. Wow. For the first time in my life I felt at a loss for words. I just stood there, awkwardly staring at him.
“It’s okay. Really. Don’t look so panicked. I’ll see you around,” he said, then turned and started back toward his Hummer.
He was leaving. I had to say something. “No, wait. I’m not . . . There isn’t a guy. I’m just going to listen to the band and see some friends. If you want to come . . .” I trailed off, still having a hard time believing he wanted to be seen with me.
He stopped and glanced back at me. “You sure?”
Yes! I managed to nod and not act like an idiot.
His grin was back. “I’ll drive.”
Taking a steadying breath, I walked toward him and realized I still had the baseball bat in my hand. “Oh.” I stopped and held it up. “I need to put this away.”
“You can put it in the Hummer until we get back,” he said, walking over to open my door for me.
This was a first. No one had ever opened a car door for me. Ever.
“Thank you,” I said, looking up at him and deciding that I could get used to this.