Read Different Roads Online

Authors: Lori L. Clark

Different Roads (4 page)

            I
bit my bottom lip and thrust my hand toward him, "Hey. I'm Jaq."

            A
smile from a mouth full of perfect, glow-in-the-dark white teeth crept across
his face; he bumped knuckles with me and said, "I'm Damon Blackwell.
Remember that name. You'll be screaming it out one of these nights.
Repeatedly."

            It
takes a lot to shock me, but shock me, he did. I didn't even know what to say
to a comment like that and before I could close my mouth and think of
something, he turned and strode across the parking lot toward his sisters
purple -- no
eggplant
-- car.

My eyes were shamelessly glued to his
backside as he walked away. He had more swing in his hips than most women,
giving him a slow, sexy swagger. Dani leaned in, "He's showing off. Don't
let that walk fool ya. It's really because one of his legs is shorter than the
other and not because he's perfected some sort of swoon worthy stroll. I've seen
more girls lose their panties because of that walk than I care to
remember."

A smile crawled across my face,
"That right?"
Sounds like a challenge to me
.

She frowned, "Yeah. Believe me Jaq,
do yourself a huge favor and stay away from Damon Blackwell. He's the worst
kind of bad news. Trust me," she muttered and popped open her purple
umbrella. She tottered off after him, unsuccessfully dodging waterlogged
potholes in her high heels. "I better give the Neanderthal my keys."

"I thought you said he wouldn't
work on your car?" I called after her.

She turned and shook her head, "Oh
he'll get in, turn the key and when it doesn't start, he'll go all Bill Engvall
about it."

"What do you mean?" I asked
walking behind her.

"You know? Car won't start. Hmph.
Here's your sign." She laughed at her own joke.

Damon was half in and half out of the
tiny car as we approached. He complained about the tight fit and snapped at his
sister, "Give me the keys already."

She lobbed the keys at him and he swiped
them out of the air before they connected with his perfect face, which is where
I'm certain she had aimed. He turned the key in the ignition and the battery
was so drained it only moaned a short protest. "Damn thing won't
start."

She glanced over shoulder at me and I
stifled a laugh, "I've got jumper cables. We can try to jump it?" I
offered. I didn't wait for his response before I turned to jog toward my car.

When I pulled up nose to nose with her
car, I left mine running and went around to grab the jumper cables out of the
trunk. I handed them to Damon who at the moment seemed to have lost his gift of
cocky. He was staring with his mouth hanging open at my car. "A 1973 Dodge
Charger?
You
drive a 1973 Dodge Charger with a four-forty Magnum?"

"Yeah? Why? What's wrong with my
car?" I planted my fists on my hips.

His eyes smiled and a dimple carved into
one of his cheeks. "Nothing. Just didn't figure you for the muscle car
type that's all."

"It was my dad's," I shrugged.

"That explains it," he
mumbled.

"Excuse me? Explains what?" I
felt irritation start to prickle at the back of my neck.

"You have to forgive my brother. He
thinks a woman with a fast car is just a waste of gas and horsepower,"
Dani said.

"Pretty much," he agreed.

I sucked my lower lip in between my
teeth, biting off what I wanted to say, but decided he wasn't worth having a
heated debate with. I'd probably never see him again and if he chose to live
with such a sexist attitude, more power to the asshole.

Once Damon had the cables connected between
the two cars he motioned for Dani to get behind the wheel of the Mazda and try
to start it.  It groaned for a few seconds before finally sputtering to life.
Dani waved at me with a broad smile, "Thanks for your help, Jaq. Nice to
meet you."

I waved back, "You too."

Damon gathered the jumper cables and
handed them to me, "Dani can give you my number," he winked.
"See ya around."

"Don't hold your breath," I
replied and slammed the door. I knew I shouldn't let him get under my skin, but
he did. He was the kind of man all dads warned their little girls about. All of
the bad qualities rolled up into one neat little package. I held on to those
thoughts and tried to convince the horny she-devil inside of me that I wasn't
the least bit intrigued by him. That he didn't smolder like sex on a stick, all
while praying I never ran into him after a few shots of tequila.

Chapter 7

Saturday
morning bright and early Shelley and I carted the boxes I'd already packed down
the stairs and sat them outside the front door. I figured the more we had ready
to load into Brad's truck, the less he'd whine about missing his beauty sleep.
Plus, we had a party to go to that night and the sooner we got things moved into
the new apartment the better since I planned to sleep there after the party.

            Brad
finally showed up around nine. "Hey sleeping beauty, you're late," I
told him with the best fake angry voice I could manage. He grinned sheepishly
and the tops of his ears turned red the way they always did whenever he was
embarrassed. His eyes were glassy and he reeked of last night's Jack Daniels
and stale cigarette smoke.

            "Sorry
Jaq, it was a late night," he gave me an apologetic shrug.

            I
planted my hands on my hips and shook my head, "I hope she was worth
it."

            He
turned away from me and I grinned as his ears turned completely beet red,
"I'll start loading some of this stuff," he said and unhooked the
two-wheel cart from where he had it strapped into the bed of his truck.

            I
giggled at his smooth change of subject and Shelley swatted me, "Stop
teasing that poor boy. His ears are going to catch fire." We laughed and
went back upstairs to haul down several boxes of books.  "Tim's coming
over to help but he can't be here until ten. We'll put the furniture in his
truck." The meager amount of furniture I owned consisted of a bed,
dresser, an antique rocker that had belonged to my grandma Carter, a nightstand
and some other odds and ends. Most of my belongings were books, clothes and a
collection of butterfly figurines.

             "Sounds
good. Here, help me with this mattress," I said and tossed the sheets and
blankets to the side. We worked at sliding the queen sized mattress off the box
springs and leaned them against the wall. I got the cordless screwdriver and
started to take the bed frame apart while we waited for Shelley's boyfriend,
Tim, to arrive with his pickup.

            "You
riding with us to the party tonight?" Shelley asked.

            "I
was thinking about driving my own car," I said.

            Her
forehead creased, "You are so
not
taking the Charger out
there."

            "Why
not?"

            "Why?
Because this party is on thirty acres out in the middle of a field that used to
be full of cows and cow shit. Not to mention, it'll be muddy as hell with all
the rain we've had. And, the only road is a narrow dirt path with ruts deeper
than your Charger is tall. You're riding with Tim and me," she narrowed
her eyes to wait for the challenge as to all the reasons why I hated to tag
along with her and Tim. She especially hated the
Threes a Crowd
argument
I used most of the time.

            I
rolled my eyes, "Fine. I'll ride with you guys."

            "You
could always ride with me," Brad offered from the doorway. "Be my
DD."

            Shelley
crouched beside me on the floor with her hands on her thighs and snorted,
"Right. Last time I saw either of you at a party you were both so drunk
you couldn't hit your ass with both hands."

            I
bumped her off balance with my shoulder and she landed on her butt, "What?
I don't have to get completely obliterated
every
time I go to a party you
know." I smiled up at Brad, "I'd love to ride with you."

            He
smiled a sweet grin and stuck his tongue out at Shelley, "It's a
date," he said. He gathered an armload of clothes I had heaped on the
chair and headed back downstairs.

            "Now
you've done it," Shelley muttered.

            I
quirked an eyebrow at her, "What did I do?"

            She
sighed heavily and said, "Brad Hayes has had a crush on you since he first
laid eyes on you and now you've just agreed to go on a date with him. Way to go
Jaq. Just don't break the poor boy's heart."

            "You
are so off base," I blinked. "Brad is a big teddy bear. He's like a
brother to me. We are absolutely
just
friends. And it is
not
a
date."

            "It's
your story, make it a good one." She tugged her frizzy brown hair back
into a knot at the base of her neck. "I'm just sayin', he follows you
around like a lost puppy dog so be gentle with him, okay?"

            Brad's
truck was crammed full, so I shoved some more of my things into my car and told
him to follow me to the new apartment while Shell waited at the house for Tim.
I helped Brad unload the boxes and he helped me carry in the armloads of my clothes
from the backseat of the Charger. "Hey wait up!" I called after him.
I bent over to retrieve one of my lacy red bras that had fluttered to the
sidewalk and dangled it in the air, "You dropped this."

            The
tops of his ears turned redder than the bra in my hands and he glowered at me
through the wispy fringe of his bangs. When I flung the bra in his direction
like a sling shot, he muttered curse words and stomped towards the front door. 
Okay, so maybe I did enjoy teasing him. A little. But it was all just good
natured fun.

            When
Tim and Shelley came with my furniture, Brad and Tim put my bed frame together
while Shelley and I moved some of the boxes where they belonged to unpack
later. Shelley still had another week in the house she'd been renting with
three other girls and planned to move her things in next weekend. So, I had the
apartment to myself for a week.

            "Babe?"
Tim hollered for Shelley from the front door. "I better get going so I can
take a shower before we head to the party. You staying here or what?"

            "No,
take me back to my car. I have to get ready at my place." She slid the box
of books she'd been unpacking off to the side and put her hands on her hips to
survey our progress. "Not too bad for a day's work. Are you sure you don't
want to ride with Tim and me?"

            "I'm
positive. I'll see you there later," I waved her off. "Stop worrying
would you? My going to the party with Brad is no big deal."

            "Tell
him
that," she snorted.

Chapter 8

When
Brad came to pick me up, I switched on the little lamp I'd put on the floor of
the entryway as a temporary nightlight and locked the front door behind me. I
shoved the house key into the pocket of my jeans and pulled my hoodie down over
my hair that was still damp from my shower.

Brad beamed at me from the driver's seat
and I crawled up in to the passenger side. As soon as I closed the door behind
me, I was overcome by his cologne. I fanned my face, "Shit Brad. You bathe
in that stuff?"

            "I
didn't have time to take a shower," he shrugged and his ears blushed.

            My
mouth formed an "O," and I shook my head, "Tell me you're
kidding."

            "I
am," he chuckled. "Sort of."

            The
party was off the main road and accessible by way of a dirt road which was
little more than a one lane path carved in between the trees. Brad's 4x4 made
the rutted road seem ten times as bumpy as it probably was and twice I banged
my head into the top of the cab. I glared sideways at him, "Could you
maybe go a little faster?" I asked and thumbed back over my shoulder
behind me. "I'm pretty sure you missed a pot hole back there."

            "Woman,
don't you start bitching about my driving," he teased. "It's a whole
lot better than walking."

            "I'm
not so sure about that," I muttered.

            "Shit,"
Brad swore and slammed on the brakes. "I forget about this damn bridge
every time." In the fading daylight I was barely able to make out the reflectors
on either side of the narrow bridge. We eased across and I held my breath as I
looked down over the edge into the water below.

"Come here often?" I teased.
The glove box door flopped open and I couldn't help but notice the box of
Trojan's inside. "Big boy?"

            His
ears blushed and he reached over to slam the compartment door closed. He said, "The
Garrett brothers used to have two or three parties a year out here before the
oldest one went off to college."

            "So
who's putting on the party tonight?"

            "Damon
Blackwell."

            I
sucked in a big gulp of air and started to sputter, "Damon
Blackwell?"

Other books

Floored by Paton, Ainslie
Small Town Girl by Patricia Rice
Vengeance by Colin Harvey
The First Crusade by Thomas Asbridge
Sabotage Season by Alex Morgan
Loco, Razer 8 by P.T. Macias
The Breaking Point by Mary Roberts Rinehart