Gas or Ass by Eden Connor Read Free Book Online

Shelby.”
    Standing beside a living, breathing Ken doll, her comment made me feel like a six-year-old.
    “I got five bucks, Macy.” Colt’s hand at the base of my spine propelled me forward. 
    “Bye, Mom.” I kissed her cheek and bolted through the door.
    Before it closed, I heard her ask, “Caine, I hate to bother you, but Dale said you wouldn’t mind giving me a ride to the mall this morning?”
    What happened to ‘have a great day at school, honey’? Much less, ‘why the hell are you wearing such a short skirt?’ but she hadn’t noticed the rebellious way I’d rolled the waistband over twice—her punishment for my having to wake to her bedroom gymnastics. Did she not realize Caine could see right through her robe, or was she walking around in a hormone-fueled daze?
    I knew the truck in the drive belonged to Caine, so I stalked toward the bright red Corvette.
    All these newer vehicles parked outside, because the three-bay carport held a pair of old cars, a red one and a blue one. Neither had a hood, but the middle one was covered by a tarp. The last bay held a metal frame on tires, some kind of dune buggy.
    Colt headed to the passenger side of the low-slung sports car. He jerked the handle and swung the door open. I guess I looked surprised, because he shrugged. “Door’s heavy. Don’t want you slammin’ it into Caine’s truck.”
    I felt silly for thinking his gesture was chivalrous. With my record for humiliating incidents in a single day already shattered before noon, I turned to look inside the car. The seat belt wasn’t normal. The buckle sprouted from a spot near the front edge of the seat. Two belts rested against the back, but they met in the middle and became one belt. I wasn’t about to hook myself into something that locked between my thighs, so I decided to risk going without a seat belt. Between my study of the safety gear and my embarrassment, I misjudged how low the car sat to the ground. The the seat was easily two inches past where I expected to land, but the padded leather sides were so high, I tumbled backward onto the console. My feet flew off the cement drive. My skirt slid to my navel, exposing my panties. I’d chosen the skirt partly because I was still so sensitive I couldn’t bear the thought of wearing jeans.
    Colt didn’t even try to smother his laugh. I shoved upright and jerked my legs into the car, blinking back tears.
    He squatted. Indoors, his hair was the color of dull pewter, but sunlight turned it almost white. His eyes reminded me of ripe blueberries. I had to look away. Shock rippled through me when he slid a calloused finger under my chin and turned my face toward his.
    “Hey, Shelby, you should’ve seen me the first time I got in this thing. I looked like a newborn giraffe trying to poke my legs under the wheel.” Dropping his hand to my thigh, he let it linger. “Don’t be embarrassed.” He winked. “Even if I do think that blush is adorable, I don’t like knowing you’re upset. This is my bad. I should’ve held your hand, but you always act like you don’t want to be touched.”
    I didn’t care that my mother was probably watching out the window. Colt’s casual touch sent a dangerous thrill through me, but the sensation glued my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
    “I’m not moving till I see that pretty smile.”
    His intent gaze burned away the last trace of my humiliation. I forced the corners of my lips to rise. He frowned, motivating me to try harder. When I gave him the genuine version, he squeezed my thigh. “That’s my good girl.” The tiny words of praise suffused a spot behind my breastbone with warmth.
    He stood and closed the door with a snap. His giraffe analogy was hard to believe, given how easily he folded his tall frame under the steering wheel, but the fiction added another shot of warmth to the heady mix of male musk, cologne, and tobacco inside the car.
    The car cranked with a roar worthy of a passenger jet before the engine