Kiss Across Chaos (Kiss Across Time #10) - Tracy Cooper-Posey Page 0,10
Swiss Army backpack over her shoulder, her head down. Her breath plumed the air in front of her.
“Fuck,” Aran breathed, and dug in his pocket for the car keys.
Chapter Three
Jesse had only just caught her breath and calmed down when the Mercedes S Class sedan with smoked windows pulled up beside the bus stop. The passenger window rolled down.
“Get in, Jesse!” Aran called.
She bent reluctantly. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
He had one hand resting on the wheel, the other on the wide console between the seats, over the window controls. All she could think was that the car was made for someone of his long length. It looked like it was molded around him.
He glanced in the rear mirror. “Bus is coming. Hurry up,” he said urgently.
She glanced behind the car. The bus was coming, forcing her to make a snap decision. She couldn’t think of a reason not to get in the car that was any better than “I don’t wanna.” That churlishness decided for her. She opened the door and slid into the seat. There was more than enough room to dump her pack on the floor between her knees, too.
She shut the door even as Aran pulled the car away from the curb. The window rolled up and warmth bathed her. Silence, too.
Jesse looked around the car while Aran steered it back into the traffic. “It’s not Brody’s Maserati, is it?” This was a soft car. A luxury car. She couldn’t even hear the engine purr. The smell of real leather and whatever the detailers used on the carpets replaced the stink of slush mixed with motor oil that was all she had been able to detect, standing at the bus stop.
“Don’t be fooled by the padding,” Aran said. “It’ll jump to sixty miles an hour in less than five seconds.”
“Really?” She reexamined the car once more. There was a full-sized tablet screen built into the console between the front seats and it was currently displaying a map, with a blip to show where they were. “I guess the lack of armor plating is misleading.”
Aran grinned. “No, it’s not even close to a Hummer. Where in Arlington is your house?”
“You can drop me on the corner of 10th and Wilson,” she said. “It’s five minutes from there.”
More like fifteen, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I can take you right to the door.”
“I like to walk.”
“It’s twenty degrees out there.”
“It’s nice,” she said, with a tone of agreement.
“A bus, Jesse?” he said, with a tone that made it sound like the question had been pushing to get out all along.
She jumped. A bit.
“There’s cabs and übers all over the city,” he added.
She gripped the strap of her pack even tighter.
“Is money really that tight?” he asked, his voice softer. “You’ve got dozens of books out there. I thought you were doing okay.”
She heard the note of stress in his voice. “It’s not up to you to keep tabs on me,” she said stiffly.
“You’re one of us, remember? That’s what we do.”
“You can’t even visit your family for Thanksgiving, so don’t drop that one on me,” she shot back.
He glanced at her, startled.
Jesse drew in a breath. “Never mind. Forget I spoke. The corner is fine.”
“It’s not, but that’s all you’re going to give me, so…” His sounded as though he was grinding his teeth together.
Her heart thudded. In the luxurious silence inside the car, it was all she could hear. “I make enough, okay?” she said, surprising even herself. “Sales are up and down and I have to save where I can because I don’t know what next month will be like.”
There. She’d said it.
“I thought you had money from the Navy?”
“Not much,” she admitted. The final pay cheque, which had looked so enormous to her at the time, had melted away like a snow pile in spring.
Aran glanced at her again. This time, his eyes were narrowed. “You’re pulling on the capital?”
Her middle jumped. “What else would I do with it?”
“Invest it. Money markets. Day trading. Rolling high interest accounts. Tax free savings. You don’t spend it. Jesus…” He pushed his hand through his hair.
Jesse considered the butter soft leather lined interior of the Mercedes once more. “You didn’t lease this on your salary, then?”
Aran gave a soft sound. She thought it might have been a snort, but it was too quiet. “This model starts at two hundred thousand and I paid cash for it.”
She stared at him. “I had no idea you were doing that well.”