Read Online Nothing More Beautiful by Lorelai LaBelle - Free Book Online Page B

“I name my cars,
too.”
    “Like?” He cocked his head at me,
interested.
    “I have Eddie right now,” I told him. “He’s
an Escort. I always use alliteration with the names. Before Eddie,
I had Carrie the Corolla, but she died a few months after I got
her. Before that, I had Gary the Golf, my first car. He was stolen
when I was in high school down in Oregon City.”
    “Oh, when was that?” he asked, nonchalantly,
as if he weren’t asking get-to-know-you questions.
    “2007,” I answered, my nerves still frantic.
“My senior year.” The urge to kiss him had increased over the
passing minutes as we headed for Irving Street. Conflicted, my
brain hadn’t stopped debating whether my decision was a good
one.
    “Really?” He sounded utterly surprised.
“Only a year after I graduated. . . I would’ve
pegged you for a few years younger.”
    “Thanks,” I said, accepting the compliment.
At least I thought it was a compliment. “So, what’s the book about
that had you so enthralled?” My words were coming easier now, my
mind turning around despite the hard throb of my heart.
    “This?” He raised the book. “It’s just a
writer I’ve been following for a while. I read the book when it was
self-published and now it’s been picked up by Orbit, so I’m reading
the new editions to catch the nuances. But to answer your question,
it’s about thieves and love and
power . . . with a lot of killing.” I flinched
a little. “Not your cup of tea, I take it.”
    “Not really, no,” I said. “I’m a sucker for
historical romances.”
    He waved his hand left at the street sign “I
like the honesty. I haven’t read any, myself—though I’ve read a few
contemporary romances.”
    I couldn’t believe we’d walked seven blocks
already. Conflicted, I didn’t want the conversation to end, and at
the same time, I couldn’t get away fast enough. “Did you enjoy
them?”
    “A few.”
    “This is me,” I said, nodding at the purple
escort. We stopped at Eddie’s back bumper. One lesson I’d learned
from my last two dates was that I no longer wanted to ask men out.
No, I was going to leave that up to them. If they really wanted it,
they’d make a move, right? Standing in front of Vince, My mind
disputed this course of logic, begging me to release the words,
“Want to get coffee?” But instead, I kept my lips tight.
    “Again, sorry about your leftovers,” he
said. “I have some work to finish tonight, so I won’t keep you. It
was good to finally meet after the last two times.” His brilliant
teeth shined as he looked at me.
    “It was good to meet you, too,” I said,
awkward, my nerves out of control. I was afraid my mouth was going
to say something unpredictable.
    “Hope to see you around the gym,” he said,
waving.
    “You too.” My smile had become twitchy, my
body shaking. He turned and headed down 13 th . The
keyhole gave me trouble as I tried unlocking the door. I drew in a
deep breath and exhaled, collecting myself. Why did the
driver— Vince Forte , I repeated in my head—have such a strong
effect on me? It simultaneously scared and thrilled me. Ugh! All my
feelings that surrounded the man contradicted each other. Slightly
trembling, I started up Eddie and drove in the opposite direction.
Even though it was a circuitous route home, I didn’t want to chance
passing Vince.
    I patted myself on the back for not asking
him out, though I knew Danielle would have been disappointed. One
bad date in a night was sufficient and it was obvious he wasn’t as
interested in me as I was in him, so it was probably for the best
we had gone our separate ways.
    The conversation played repeatedly in my
head the entire drive home, and I scrutinized all that I’d said and
tried desperately hard to remember all that he’d said. But why? Why
was I putting so much effort into understanding the encounter?
    The question kept me up most of the
night.
     
    THE NEXT MORNING I related
the night’s events to