that nice?”
Speechless, he watched Journey greet an elderly man with a weathered face and a shock of white hair. When he opened the door of the…car, as she called it, there was no doubt in Reno’s mind that the man was an Indian. He recognized the distinctive features. After all, he shared those features.
“I appreciate you not calling the tow truck,” she said, meeting the man with a smile.
“No, I looked in your purse.” He slapped the air with his hand as if dismissing the idea. “I didn’t recognize the name on the driver’s license, but I saw a picture of your aunt in your wallet. I remembered Myra telling me you were coming to housesit for her.”
They went on to discuss the apprehension of the two criminals. Once Mr. Kota put the keys in her hand, she motioned for Reno to join them. “Mr. Blue, I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Reno Black. Reno this is Kota Blue.”
“Kota Blue,” Reno said the name slowly.
“Mr. Black.” Kota nodded and shook his head slowly.
Journey couldn’t help but notice how the two stared, looking one another up and down. She was about to question their intense mutual interest when the grandson called for his grandfather.
“Hey, Pop. We’ve got a busted water line!”
“Oh, no.” Journey voiced her concern. “Do I need to call a plumber?”
“No.” Mr. Blue shook his head. “I’m sure we can handle it. I can fix most anything. Cars. Tractors. Broken water lines. If not, I’ll call a plumber myself. Myra lets me worry about these things for her.”
With a wave of the hand and one last meaningful glance at Reno, Mr. Blue ambled off.
“What was that about?” she asked Reno, not missing the look of recognition shared between the two men. “Did you know him?”
“No.” Reno decided to say no more, not yet. “I guess just one Indian recognizing another one.”
She placed a hand on his back, giving him a little push toward her car. “We don’t use that word for Native Americans anymore. It’s considered crass. The only Indians are from India.”
Reno look at Journey like she was crazy. “Are you funning me?”
“Nope. Everything has to be politically correct these days.” She showed him how to lift the handle to open the door. “Now, sit down and I’ll fasten you in.” When he tried to wedge his six-foot three frame into the opening, she placed a gentle palm on his leg to stop his efforts. “Let me push the seat back.” After fiddling with some gadget, something moved and suddenly he had more room. “Now, get yourself all situated, and I’ll buckle the seat belt.”
Reno’s leg was still burning where she’d touched him. He didn’t argue with anything she set out to do, he just tried to focus on keeping his cock from showing too much enthusiasm.
From somewhere over his right shoulder, she pulled down a strip of fabric, then leaned over him to fit the metal end into another metal holder. Reno held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to moan when she laid her ample, soft breasts on his chest – and wiggled.
Lord Almighty. He felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Uh…Journey?”
“Almost got it.” When he heard a click, she announced success. “There! You’re safely buckled in.”
As she backed out and shut the door, he laid his head back against some type of cushion and blew out a long, tortured breath. “Sassafras!” he whispered. Holy hell in a handbasket. While Journey was walking around the car and getting in, he removed his hat to place it over the burgeoning bulge of his manhood.
When she repeated the steps that she’d performed on him to buckle herself in, Reno enjoyed breathing in her scent. She smelled like honeysuckles on a warm day.
“All right. Here we go.”
He watched with great interest as she adjusted a mirror that hung about head level between them, then pushed a pedal with her foot, and pressed a button that clearly read START. He chuckled when he heard a familiar rumble. “This doesn’t run on steam, does it?”
She looked at him, surprised. “No. Gasoline.” At his confused look, she searched her brain for a way to explain it to him. “Gasoline is a derivative of petroleum, which is distilled from crude oil.” When he still looked confused, she let out a long breath. “I wish I’d studied harder. You know how you drill wells to find water?”
“A cable-tool drilling rig. Yes, I’m familiar.”
She smiled. “Okay. Well, there