of being a programmer, he often told her, was that he could make really good money doing something he’d do anyway for free. What time he spent not plugged into a computer, he usually spent playing games or with the latest electronic wonder before getting bored a few months later and dumping it off on her ridiculously grateful brothers. She was more of a tactile person, loving fabrics and textures and making things she could touch. But she envied him so much in that moment. He was happily distracted.
She was not.
No gadgets. No paper, even, not that she had any idea what she might have scribbled if she did. All she could do was think. Even that didn’t go well because, aside from the inanity of her own thoughts, sales people of all kinds plied her with lemonades and sodas, cookies and vending machine-sized bags of chips, none of which she actually wanted. Add in the fact that this lot’s showroom was over air-conditioned, which turned her nipples into frightening little knots no one could miss, and misery had been hers.
Once he’d heard her chattering teeth, Cole actually took off his leather jacket—which smelled oh-my-God-so-good—and draped it over her shoulders, but it took him at least another twenty minutes to look her in the eye again. So much for wearing a tank top to keep him thinking about how much he liked her skin.
Note to self: Car hunting does not make for a hot date.
It made for anxiety-induced eye twitches, though.
At least every time she was about to jump out of her skin, Cole would nudge her with his elbow and point out something to distract her. The sideways-slipping toupee on an oblivious salesman. A kid surreptitiously stuffing a plastic promotional ball into the gleaming tailpipe of a showcase car. This time, he pointed out a teenager getting her first car—used, like the blue Mini that Amanda was currently waiting to sign over the bulk of her savings to make her own. The girl had just been presented an aged sedan, gleaming until it almost looked new, but you’d think it was a Ferrari given how the girl was jumping and screaming after her blushing father handed her the keys.
Amanda smiled before turning from the spectacle, but her bittersweet emotions must have shown through.
“Ah, crap, I’m sorry.” Cole straightened in his chair. “I should have thought first.”
“About what?” She willed the strained edge to her lips to fade.
Cole just raised a dark brow at her, his brown eyes knowing too much, as usual. Too much and somehow, not the most obvious things. She sighed. So what if it was the hopeless one? The man made her crazy in all the ways a man could. If only he could figure that out…without her brother’s help.
“I didn’t mean to make you think about your father.”
She shook her head. “First, you never have to apologize for making me think about my father.” Missing him never went away, and in a strange way, she hoped it never did. He’d been a huge man, just like Locke, but her father had been a completely different person. Where Locke was stern and quiet, their father had been boisterous, gregarious and had never met anyone who wasn’t his best friend. He told stories and gave piggyback rides and for her, he’d done his best to sit at tea parties and braid doll hair. He’d been the only one who could make Locke laugh, no matter what…
“Second,” she continued, pushing those memories away with a harsh mental swipe. She didn’t want to be sympathetic to her brother right now. “I wasn’t thinking about Dad. I was remembering when Locke was teaching me to drive.”
His obvious relief gave way to a sly chuckle.
It was her turn to raise her brow. “Oh, you know how that went?”
“Only because I remember when he taught the elder twins.” He laughed outright at that. “That was the only time I’ve ever seen Locke sick.”
She had to join him. Daniel and Dean could work a gym like a finely tuned Stradivarius. Machinery, on the other hand…not so
She was not.
No gadgets. No paper, even, not that she had any idea what she might have scribbled if she did. All she could do was think. Even that didn’t go well because, aside from the inanity of her own thoughts, sales people of all kinds plied her with lemonades and sodas, cookies and vending machine-sized bags of chips, none of which she actually wanted. Add in the fact that this lot’s showroom was over air-conditioned, which turned her nipples into frightening little knots no one could miss, and misery had been hers.
Once he’d heard her chattering teeth, Cole actually took off his leather jacket—which smelled oh-my-God-so-good—and draped it over her shoulders, but it took him at least another twenty minutes to look her in the eye again. So much for wearing a tank top to keep him thinking about how much he liked her skin.
Note to self: Car hunting does not make for a hot date.
It made for anxiety-induced eye twitches, though.
At least every time she was about to jump out of her skin, Cole would nudge her with his elbow and point out something to distract her. The sideways-slipping toupee on an oblivious salesman. A kid surreptitiously stuffing a plastic promotional ball into the gleaming tailpipe of a showcase car. This time, he pointed out a teenager getting her first car—used, like the blue Mini that Amanda was currently waiting to sign over the bulk of her savings to make her own. The girl had just been presented an aged sedan, gleaming until it almost looked new, but you’d think it was a Ferrari given how the girl was jumping and screaming after her blushing father handed her the keys.
Amanda smiled before turning from the spectacle, but her bittersweet emotions must have shown through.
“Ah, crap, I’m sorry.” Cole straightened in his chair. “I should have thought first.”
“About what?” She willed the strained edge to her lips to fade.
Cole just raised a dark brow at her, his brown eyes knowing too much, as usual. Too much and somehow, not the most obvious things. She sighed. So what if it was the hopeless one? The man made her crazy in all the ways a man could. If only he could figure that out…without her brother’s help.
“I didn’t mean to make you think about your father.”
She shook her head. “First, you never have to apologize for making me think about my father.” Missing him never went away, and in a strange way, she hoped it never did. He’d been a huge man, just like Locke, but her father had been a completely different person. Where Locke was stern and quiet, their father had been boisterous, gregarious and had never met anyone who wasn’t his best friend. He told stories and gave piggyback rides and for her, he’d done his best to sit at tea parties and braid doll hair. He’d been the only one who could make Locke laugh, no matter what…
“Second,” she continued, pushing those memories away with a harsh mental swipe. She didn’t want to be sympathetic to her brother right now. “I wasn’t thinking about Dad. I was remembering when Locke was teaching me to drive.”
His obvious relief gave way to a sly chuckle.
It was her turn to raise her brow. “Oh, you know how that went?”
“Only because I remember when he taught the elder twins.” He laughed outright at that. “That was the only time I’ve ever seen Locke sick.”
She had to join him. Daniel and Dean could work a gym like a finely tuned Stradivarius. Machinery, on the other hand…not so
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