Read Online Falling for the Wingman (The Kelly Brothers, Book 3) by Crista McHugh - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Crista McHugh
Tags: Contemporary Romance
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hoisted her end of the ice chest into the back of a classic Chevy pickup.
While she tied the chest down, he took a moment to admire the bright green truck. “What year is this?”
“A ’57.”
“What kind of engine do you have in it?”
Alex flashed him a mischievous grin. “One that’s barely street legal.”
“Nice.” He climbed into the passenger side. “Let’s see what this old girl can do.”
“You got it.” She started it up with a low, deep throttle that rumbled through the streets of downtown Jackson Grove. But when they reached the highway, she opened it and accelerated with enough power to knock him back against his seat.
Caleb rolled down his window and let the warm spring air whip past his face. The truck was a perfect combination of speed and power. “Let me guess—you built it?”
“Of course.” The corner of her eyes crinkled from her proud smile. “Wait till you see what I have planned for that Roadrunner.”
“Should my old Camaro be worried?”
“Most definitely.” She chuckled and brushed the hair that had blown loose from her ponytail away from her face, her mood light.
Another thud of his heart bruised the inside of his chest. If he’d been riding with Kourtney, she would’ve yelled at him the moment he rolled down the window for messing up her hair. Alex, however, took it as a cue to roll down hers and enjoy the breeze too, not caring if her hair wasn’t perfect.
She turned to him, and her grin faded. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “I was just thinking about something. Do you want me to close my window?”
“Nope. I like driving down these old country roads like this.” She turned off the highway to a small two-lane road that should have been repaved about three years ago. “Hang on—it’s going to get a little bumpy from here out.”
“Oh, I forgot—here in Alabama, most of the directions include ‘Turn off the paved road,’” he teased. “I suppose mud-riding and cow tipping may be on the agenda tonight.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “We can put them there if you want. Just be thankful I didn’t crank up my radio. I know how much you love country music.”
“If I remember correctly, the last time we hung out, you were playing more classic rock.” He grabbed the dash as a pothole jostled the vehicle. “That I can handle.”
“You’ll get plenty of that at Bubba’s.” She glanced at him, worry etching lines in her otherwise smooth forehead, and slowed the truck. “Here, I’ll be more careful so you don’t explode like a shaken Coke can.”
“I appreciate it.”
“And as for the beer, if you want, I won’t drink tonight so we don’t have to stay at Bubba’s.”
A stab of disappointment hit him. He’d actually been looking forward to sharing a tent with her.
Whoa! Watch it, Caleb. You’re in danger of crossing the line, and she’d only end up getting hurt .
If she didn’t slap him for trying to take things too far, that is.
“I’m okay with whatever.”
Something flared in her dark brown eyes that made him wonder if she’d be more open to sharing a tent than he first thought. “Then we’ll see how the evening plays out. In the meantime, I want you to relax, enjoy some good food and some great company.”
“You’re great company.”
A hint of color rose into her cheeks. “Ah, thanks. You’re good company, too, and I think you’ll like my friends. We’ve all been like this since grade school.” She held up her crossed fingers. “J.T. was in the Army, so you can rib him about that, if you want. And Bubba makes some of the best BBQ in the state.”
“Just answer me one thing—is his name really Bubba?”
“Would you be shocked if I told you it was?” The twinkle in her eyes gave her away, but he shook his head, earning one of her unrestrained laughs. “Okay, you saw through that. His real name is Douglas Allen Grant III, but since his granddaddy goes by Big D and his daddy is Little D,
While she tied the chest down, he took a moment to admire the bright green truck. “What year is this?”
“A ’57.”
“What kind of engine do you have in it?”
Alex flashed him a mischievous grin. “One that’s barely street legal.”
“Nice.” He climbed into the passenger side. “Let’s see what this old girl can do.”
“You got it.” She started it up with a low, deep throttle that rumbled through the streets of downtown Jackson Grove. But when they reached the highway, she opened it and accelerated with enough power to knock him back against his seat.
Caleb rolled down his window and let the warm spring air whip past his face. The truck was a perfect combination of speed and power. “Let me guess—you built it?”
“Of course.” The corner of her eyes crinkled from her proud smile. “Wait till you see what I have planned for that Roadrunner.”
“Should my old Camaro be worried?”
“Most definitely.” She chuckled and brushed the hair that had blown loose from her ponytail away from her face, her mood light.
Another thud of his heart bruised the inside of his chest. If he’d been riding with Kourtney, she would’ve yelled at him the moment he rolled down the window for messing up her hair. Alex, however, took it as a cue to roll down hers and enjoy the breeze too, not caring if her hair wasn’t perfect.
She turned to him, and her grin faded. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “I was just thinking about something. Do you want me to close my window?”
“Nope. I like driving down these old country roads like this.” She turned off the highway to a small two-lane road that should have been repaved about three years ago. “Hang on—it’s going to get a little bumpy from here out.”
“Oh, I forgot—here in Alabama, most of the directions include ‘Turn off the paved road,’” he teased. “I suppose mud-riding and cow tipping may be on the agenda tonight.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “We can put them there if you want. Just be thankful I didn’t crank up my radio. I know how much you love country music.”
“If I remember correctly, the last time we hung out, you were playing more classic rock.” He grabbed the dash as a pothole jostled the vehicle. “That I can handle.”
“You’ll get plenty of that at Bubba’s.” She glanced at him, worry etching lines in her otherwise smooth forehead, and slowed the truck. “Here, I’ll be more careful so you don’t explode like a shaken Coke can.”
“I appreciate it.”
“And as for the beer, if you want, I won’t drink tonight so we don’t have to stay at Bubba’s.”
A stab of disappointment hit him. He’d actually been looking forward to sharing a tent with her.
Whoa! Watch it, Caleb. You’re in danger of crossing the line, and she’d only end up getting hurt .
If she didn’t slap him for trying to take things too far, that is.
“I’m okay with whatever.”
Something flared in her dark brown eyes that made him wonder if she’d be more open to sharing a tent than he first thought. “Then we’ll see how the evening plays out. In the meantime, I want you to relax, enjoy some good food and some great company.”
“You’re great company.”
A hint of color rose into her cheeks. “Ah, thanks. You’re good company, too, and I think you’ll like my friends. We’ve all been like this since grade school.” She held up her crossed fingers. “J.T. was in the Army, so you can rib him about that, if you want. And Bubba makes some of the best BBQ in the state.”
“Just answer me one thing—is his name really Bubba?”
“Would you be shocked if I told you it was?” The twinkle in her eyes gave her away, but he shook his head, earning one of her unrestrained laughs. “Okay, you saw through that. His real name is Douglas Allen Grant III, but since his granddaddy goes by Big D and his daddy is Little D,
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