His touch sends firework coursing through my body. I step out of his hold to get away from the feeling. My panties have already been ruined for hours.
Walking to the side door, I grab the knob and place a hand against the cool wood. “The garage?” I ask.
“Yeah, saved it for last.”
I turn the knob and push my way in. My mouth falls open. He has at least five cars and three bikes in here.
I grin when I see my Ducati, the one I sold when I was pissed off at his ass. I spin and place my hands on my hips. He’s watching me with a smile.
“I have the money for that. I’ll write you a check tonight.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Keep it.”
“How did you find it anyway?” He lifts a brow. I roll my eyes. “Right. Note to self. Burn that bitch next time.”
He barks out a laugh. I turn with a smile and walk further into the garage, stopping when a black 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 454 with a white striped hood catches my attention. I know the car clearer than anything I’ve known since waking on that hard, cold floor. A memory begins to form.
For the first time since I can remember my father is smiling at me. He holds up a set of keys and drops them in my palm. I turn from him to the car and back.
“When I first came to this country, I fell in love with what they call American muscle. I promised one would be the first car I gave to my son. I have no son, but I think this is perfect for you, Princesa,” my father said.
I moved to the car tentatively. Climbing inside, I looked around it in awe. Snapping out of shock, I stuck the key in and started it, nearly jumping out of my skin as the engine roared to life.
“Go on. Step on the gas. Rev the engine,” my father said as he leaned in the window beaming.
I come back to focus as John revs the engine of the car sitting before me. He chuckles at me as he hangs halfway out of the car.
“You want to take her for a spin?”
“My father gave me one of these for my sixteenth birthday,” I say to no one in particular. I wrinkle my brows. “It was black too. Red rims and brake pads.”
He cuts the car off and gets out. I catch the keys he tosses at me out of reflex. Looking down at them, I let the memory settle, then look back at John.
“Take it. It’s yours.”
“Are you crazy?”
“No. Maybe driving it will bring back more memories,” he says and closes the distance.
He pinches my chin to lift my face and for the first time since New York, he kisses me with the passion and desire I know him for. My knees go weak and I have no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” I say when he breaks the kiss. “But I’m still not moving in with you.”
He gives a throaty laugh and kisses my nose. That spark of determination lights his eyes. “Whatever.”
Chapter 46
L.A. Life
Roni
Three months later…
“How’s the L.A. life treating you? If you hate it, you can always come back here with me. Uri has talked about spending some time in Italy,” Val says into the phone.
“It’s not that bad. I mean, the shopping is great and so is the pay,” I reply.
I’ll admit, I didn’t know how I felt about getting on that plane to move to Cali two months ago. Seeing how dangerous and crazy Val’s life can be made me think that maybe working for John was the right change of pace. Not that this job doesn’t have its dangers or that I’m not up to handling myself.
No, it’s more the odd feeling I got learning who I was surrounded by in New York. My head is still reeling to know that someone I consider to be a really good friend is actually tied up in the mob. I couldn’t understand my initial comfort with that.
Seriously, that’s movie shit. So, I might as well live out here in Hollywood. Honestly, it’s my guilt that pushed me onto that plane. I wasn’t there when Val needed me.
I know she keeps telling me it’s not my fault. She wanted to rush the baby to the hospital because of her fever. It never crossed her mind to send