food place down the road. We were about thirty minutes from the old guy, in a town that made mine look like a thriving metropolis. But it had a couple of restaurants and a not-too-disgusting motel, so as far as stops went, it wasn’t terrible.
Fiona had called the old guy last night and he’d said we could come see the car this morning. I was anxious to get over there. The last thing I needed was to find out he’d already sold it to Luke because princess mascara had taken her fucking time getting ready this morning.
She came out of her room—finally—carrying her houseplants with that damn smile plastered on her face. I didn’t know what she was so happy about all the time. Her life was in shambles but she acted like everything was sunshine and rainbows.
No huge winter coat today, but she was dressed in yet another oversize sweatshirt. To be fair, it was unnaturally chilly for northern Arizona. This one had a hood and a pocket in front. And I was not the least bit intrigued by the shape I could just make out underneath her clothes. It was hard to tell, but she might have been hiding some banging curves under all that fabric.
Not that I cared.
“Good morning, Mr. Scowlypants.”
Sasquatch jumped down and trotted over to her, his tail wagging.
“There’s a good boy. I’ll pet you when my hands are free, buddy.”
“What have you been doing in there? Dying your hair a darker shade of black?”
She laughed. “It’s not black, it’s chestnut brown with purple lowlights, and it’s a semi-permanent, so it’ll fade back to my natural color without giving me roots.”
“I don’t care. We need to get going.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I overslept a little.”
“You overslept? Luke is probably down at the old guy’s farm right now badmouthing me.”
“His name is Mr. Browning. Walt Browning.”
“What?”
“He’s not the old guy, he’s Mr. Browning. It would probably help your cause if you remember his name.”
I groaned. “For fuck’s sake, can we just go?”
She smirked at me—fucking smirked. “You’re very lucky you have me, Prince Not-Charming.”
“Yeah, it’s worked out great for me so far.”
She just laughed again and carried her stupid houseplants to the passenger side.
I hesitated for a second, hearing Gram in the back of my head again. It wasn’t my fault Fiona’s hands were full and she’d have a hard time opening the truck door. Who brought plants on a road trip?
Rolling my eyes, I went around and opened the door for her.
“Thank you,” she said in that same cheerful tone.
I didn’t know what she was so happy about. We hadn’t even had breakfast yet.
We ate on the way over and the food in my stomach helped take the edge off. But I was still pretty amped. I’d driven a lot of miles for a shot at one of my top five dream cars. The fact that Luke Haven stood in my way made me even more determined to buy it. A bidding war could be dangerous—I wasn’t exactly swimming in cash—but the upside on a build like this was almost limitless. Especially if it got me into the museum.
I had to get this car.
The GPS took us down a long two-lane road flanked by scrubby fields. Walt Browning’s land came up on our left and as we got closer, I was hit with a pang of envy. Fiona had called him a car hoarder, and she hadn’t been wrong.
At a glance, I could see a ton of cars and trucks I’d have loved to get my hands on. An early seventies Challenger. A fifties Bel Air. Mustangs, Camaros, Chargers. He had hundreds of cars in varying states of decay lined in neat rows. So much potential. For a guy like me, this was basically paradise.
We turned onto a dirt road that served as his driveway. His house was set back from the road and there were more outbuildings behind it. Several vehicles were parked out front, most of them probably his. Unfortunately, the one I didn’t want to see was there. Luke had beat us here.
“See,” I grumbled, gesturing toward his truck.
“It’ll be fine,” she said brightly. “You have me.”
Although I didn’t share her optimism, there wasn’t much I could do about it now.
We got out and I clipped on Sasquatch’s leash. My shoes crunched on the gravel. Fiona walked ahead, shoving her hands in her front pocket. The back of her sweatshirt pulled up, revealing two very round ass cheeks in those