the battered cars like a lingering fog.
Mina looked back to me and said, "It looks like a zombie apocalypse, doesn't it?"
"Sure," I said, "if zombies can drive."
"I don't mean the zombies would be driving," she said. "I'm just saying, it looks like the end of the world, you know?"
I knew what she meant. But I also knew what she was doing. "Back to the person bothering you," I said. "If that happens again, I don't care what you think you're interrupting, you tell me right away, alright?"
"Sure, but why?"
I gave her a serious look. "Because nothing's more important than you."
At this, her eyes softened in the way they did sometimes. "But that's not true," she said. "I mean, the campaign is the reason we're here, right?"
Wrong.
Sure, that was the official reason, but it wasn't the most important. Not anymore
I told her, "I don't care why we're here. I'm not gonna let anyone hassle you."
She smiled. "Oh, yeah? What about you?"
I loved her smile. In fact, I loved it so much that I didn't turn toward the field, even when a loud crash was followed by the sounds of cheering.
I kept my gaze on Mina. "What about me?"
She was still smiling. "You hassle me all the time."
She was right. I loved teasing her, but that wasn't the same, and she knew it. With a shameless grin, I replied, "Hey, it's a dirty job but someone's gotta do it."
She laughed. "Oh, so now I'm a dirty job, huh?"
For a nice girl, she could be surprisingly dirty, but in all the right ways. I didn't mean just sex. Even what we were doing now – watching a demolition derby – it was one of the many reasons I loved spending time with her.
Here we were, sitting in the front row, where billows of dust flew from the dirt-covered field. But Mina wasn't going all squeamish. In fact, she'd been the one to suggest sitting up close.
A few weeks ago, during our first demolition derby, she'd told me with obvious pride that her dad had won a tractor pull – whatever the hell that was – when he'd been only eighteen.
And then, she'd gone on to tell me that she loved seeing local guys – or in some cases, gals – have their moment of glory.
Moment of glory – that's what she'd called it. And it fit, just like Mina fit perfectly into the crook of my arm as we slept.
This, too, was new.
Normally, when the deed was done, I wasn't big on sleepovers – except now I was. And that wasn't the only thing that was different. With Mina, the time outside the bedroom was just as much fun as our time alone.
I gave her hand another squeeze. "You're something, alright."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
I winked. "The girl of my dreams."
She laughed. "Yeah, right."
She thought I was joking. I wasn't.
Mina filled an empty spot that I hadn't even known existed. On impulse, I pulled her into my arms and brushed my lips against her cheek.
I wanted to press my lips to hers and kiss her like I meant it, but I knew Mina well enough to think better of it. She'd care not only about the cameras, but also about the family of five sitting directly behind us.
Still, I smiled. Later, I'd have her all to myself. And then, I could take my sweet time doing everything I was thinking about now.
We were still gazing into each other's eyes when the engines grew quiet, and the crowd roared at the announcement of a winner. I turned toward the field just in time to see a young guy, maybe nineteen years old, climb out of the Ford. He lifted both hands in triumph as the crowd cheered him on.
Mina said, "I guess that's our winner."
"Nah," I said. "I'm the winner."
She laughed. "Oh yeah. How so?"
"I'm here with you, aren't I?"
She rolled her eyes, thinking I was teasing her. I wasn't. But it was probably just as well.
I had no plans to fall in love, much less settle down. Whatever we had, it was working here and now.
No need to think beyond that, right?
Chapter 60
Mina
From the stands, I watched in silent wonder as Chase strode onto the dirt field and presented the driver with a trophy along with an oversized check to represent the prize money he'd get for winning the derby.
Tonight, Chase was wearing jeans and work boots, along with a gray T-shirt sporting the familiar orange logo of Blast Tools. His clothes were very