The Tin Man by Nina Mason Read Free Book Online Page A

and mouth. Still, the changes only enhanced his rugged good-looks—something she found at once appealing and totally unfair.
    Why did men became more distinguished with age, while women became invisible? Or was that an American thing? In France, she’d heard, older women were still considered attractive. Was the same true in Scotland? Somehow, she doubted it, given the country’s native dress. While she liked kilts well enough (what woman didn’t?), she also thought the men who wore them akin to male peacocks showing off their feathers.
    She continued making a study of him. There had to be something wrong with him —besides the smoking—some fatal flaw that explained why he still was single. Some weird perversion or phobia or a bad case of Peter Pan Syndrome.
    Or , God forbid, all of the above.
    “You’ll need to pull over somewhere when we get to Jersey City,” she told him.
    “What for?”
    “So I can drive.” His gaze snapped toward her, giving her heart a mild jolt. There was something so soulful about his eyes it seemed almost a shame to cover them up. Almost. “And you can wear the blindfold.”
    “You mean you were serious about that?”
    “Of course,” she replied, extracting the blindfold from her purse. After reading Fifty Shades of Grey, she’d ordered it online, along with a pair of fur-lined handcuffs and a vibrating penis-shaped dildo. Sadly, she’d had no occasion so far to use anything but the dildo.
    “How long will I have to wear it?” he asked.
    She shrugged. “Until we get there.”
    “And how long will that be?”
    “Two hours. Maybe three. Depending on road conditions and traffic.”
    He groaned and returned his attention to the road, after which they sat in uncomfortable silence until, unable to bear the détente any longer, she blurted, “Why aren’t you married?”
    He laughed, but tensely. “Why aren’t you?”
    “I haven’t met the right person,” she said primly. “What’s your excuse?”
    “ I’m the Tin Man.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “You mean from The Wizard of Oz ?”
    He shrugged, but didn’t expand.
    Thea puzzled over the comparison. Having read the Oz series as a girl, she knew the Tin Man started life as a human woodsman. The Wicked Witch of the East put a spell on his axe to prevent him from marrying the girl he loved. As the enchanted axe cut off his limbs one by one, he replaced them with tin prosthetics until he was made entirely of metal—but lacking a heart, as the tinsmith who’d helped him neglected to provide a replacement.
    “I’m curious .” Her gaze washed over him. “What makes you the Tin Man?”
    “Never mind,” he replied with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter.”
    Reluctantly, s he let it go. As they emerged from the tunnel, she saw one of those generic discount gas stations just ahead on the right. She pointed toward it. “Pull in over there.”
    He promptly obeyed and glided to a stop alongside the pumps. After he hopped out, she took his place behind the wheel. Several minutes later, when he climbed into the passenger seat, she handed him the blindfold.
    Every muscle stiffened as he took it from her and put it on.
    They rode in silence, her frustration growing with each passing minute. He appeared restless, agitated. She hoped she hadn’t said or done something to further offend him. She wanted him to like her. As much as she hated to own it, she’d had a stupid, pathetically adolescent secret crush on him since before he’d asked her out for a drink. Even blindfolded, his closeness evoked a deep sense of longing.
    Luckily, the feeling was tempered by the foul reek of cigarettes emanating off him and ever y nicotine-glazed surface of his vehicle.
    They were passing through Arlington, Pennsylvania, on Old York Road , which was dark and mostly deserted. The landscape was flat and peppered with strip malls, motels, chain restaurants, real estate offices, and the occasional hospital.
    Welcome to the American midlands.
    The cool