Page 17

CHAPTER EIGHT

By the time they reached Anchor Point, Laryn’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Tate didn’t seem discomfited in the least by her driving. She knew she had a lead foot and was a little reckless on the roads. It didn’t help that the streets were fairly empty, since it was nearing one in the morning.

Tate’s Taurus was in amazingly good shape for being as old as it was.

Of course, it wasn’t as ancient as her Civic, but she was still itching to get under the hood and take a look.

The brakes felt as if they could use new pads, and there was a slight hitch when she pressed on the gas, making her think the lines needed to be flushed out.

She expertly parallel parked along the road before looking over at Tate.

For a split second, she worried that she’d done what she usually did…

turned a man off because she was more knowledgeable and had more skills behind the wheel than he did.

But she should’ve known better. This was Tate.

He had enough confidence in his own skills not to worry about someone else being better behind the wheel.

If flying helicopters was an Olympic sport, he’d win gold every time.

And probably have a shit-ton of endorsements as well .

“So? What’s the verdict?” he asked.

“I’d give her a solid B,” Laryn told him.

“Only a B?” he asked with a slight frown.

“That’s better than average,” she reminded him.

“But not an A,” Tate returned. “Can you bring her up to snuff?”

In response, Laryn simply smirked and raised a brow at him.

“Of course you can,” he said with a chuckle, answering his own question. “Come on, let’s get inside and grab a drink before we’re too late and they shut the place down.”

Laryn nodded and got out of the car. That’s when she happened to look down…and only then realized she was still in the coveralls she wore at work. Not exactly “going out” attire.

Doubts hit her hard. Behind the wheel or under an engine, she was confident and sure of herself. But in the real world? Not so much.

“Laryn?” Tate asked.

She hadn’t realized he’d come around to her side of the vehicle, and he was now standing in front of her, looking at her with concern. She had no idea how long she’d been standing there, unmoving, but obviously it was long enough for him to wonder what the hell she was doing.

“I’m not dressed appropriately,” she blurted.

“What? Sure you are.”

Laryn let out an annoyed breath. “Tate, I’m wearing coveralls.”

“So? I’m wearing my flight suit. As are the rest of the guys. No one is going to look twice at you.”

That was the problem. Just once, she wanted to be the woman people stared at when she entered a room.

Well…stared at for a reason other than wondering what the hell she was doing there because she looked completely out of place.

That had happened to her more than once, and she wasn’t looking forward to it happening again here , in front of Tate .

“Maybe I should just grab a taxi and go home,” she hedged.

Once more, Tate stepped into her personal space. This time, the door behind her was shut. And he didn’t simply crowd her; he put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in close.

When he’d caressed her face earlier on the base, it was all Laryn could do not to lean into his touch.

For years, she’d dreamed of having Tate Davis look at her the way he had back there in the parking lot of the hangar.

And now, here he was again…leaning into her, touching her.

His thumbs caressed her collarbones gently, and even though she couldn’t feel it through the material of the coveralls she was wearing, it still sent waves of electricity down to her toes.

“Are you naked under this?” he asked.

Laryn blinked in shock at his question. “What? No!”

“So take it off.”

“Huh?”

“You aren’t naked. Take it off if you’re uncomfortable wearing it inside.”

“But I’m wearing shorts and a tank top,” she protested.

“And?” Tate asked with a small shrug. “Trust me, whatever you’re wearing probably covers a hell of a lot more than what a lot of women will be wearing inside.”

And that was a whole other problem. Laryn was curvy. She liked the coveralls because they hid a lot of the weight she’d managed to gain over the years. True, her shorts weren’t exactly Daisy Dukes, but she still wasn’t sure she was confident enough to wear them in public.

And the tank top was black, thank goodness, since it was more slimming than the white ones she sometimes wore at home, but again…it was a tank. And her boobs weren’t exactly tiny.

As she silently went over her options, which weren’t many, she stared at Tate.

He was watching her patiently. It seemed as if he’d stand there for as long as it took for her to decide what she wanted to do.

He wasn’t glancing over at the door, as if he was annoyed at having to wait to join his friends.

All his attention was on her…and all the while, his thumbs continued their gentle stroking.

Hoping she wasn’t going to regret her decision, she said, “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ll take off the coveralls. But you need to step back.”

He moved without hesitation, but his gaze didn’t leave hers.

Not until she reached for the zipper at her upper chest. As she lowered it, his eyes followed the movement.

The moment was charged, and for the first time in her life, Laryn felt…

sexy. The zipper went from her throat down to her crotch, and Tate watched as she inched it down as far as it could go.

Feeling nervous, as if she was undressing in front of a potential sexual partner for the first time, Laryn shrugged a shoulder and the material fell over her arm. She did the same on the other side, holding the material at her waist so it didn’t fall to the ground.

Tate’s gaze flew upward, and she saw him swallow as her tank top was exposed. Glancing down, she saw her girls were thankfully fully covered by the cotton material, but she could see quite a bit of cleavage from her vantage point.

Suddenly feeling more self-conscious than sexy, she wiggled her hips, wanting this over with.

But typical of her often-clumsy self, she misjudged where the material was as she tried to get out of it.

At home, she always just let the coveralls fall to the floor and she stepped out of them.

But since she didn’t want them to land on the dirty ground—they could definitely be worn a second time before she had to wash them—Laryn pulled her foot up before the material had cleared it.

She would’ve fallen onto her ass and completely embarrassed herself if Tate hadn’t reached out and wrapped his hands around her waist to steady her .

The coveralls fell to the ground anyway, but Laryn couldn’t seem to make herself care. Not when Tate’s hands were on her and she was practically in his arms.

He stared into her eyes for a split second before his gaze dropped. Remembering the view of her cleavage she’d had a split second earlier, she knew he was getting an eyeful from his vantage point.

To her surprise and amazement, she felt his hard cock against her for a moment before he eased his hips back.

She, Laryn Hardy, had given Tate Davis an erection? She couldn’t have been more shocked.

“Damn,” he said, sounding awed. Then he cleared his throat and asked, “You good?”

Laryn nodded.

He took a step back but kept a hand on her waist. Then his gaze went from her face to her chest to her hips, her legs, and back up. Then he took a deep breath and leaned down to grab her coveralls, which were lying in a heap around her ankles.

“Step out,” he ordered.

Putting her hand on the car behind her so she didn’t repeat her near fall, Laryn obeyed.

He stood with her coveralls in his hand and reached for the door handle to the backseat. He threw the garment inside without a second thought, then turned back to her. He didn’t say anything for long seconds as he took her in from head to toe again.

“Should I put it back on?” she asked after a moment, worried that he thought she didn’t pass muster. That he’d be embarrassed to be seen with her. The cotton shorts and tank top weren’t exactly going-out clothes either, but then again, she didn’t really go out much at all, so what did she know?

“No!” he practically barked. Then he took another deep breath and said in a calmer tone, “No. You look fine. Great. Perfect. You might want to…um…pull up your top a bit though. ”

Looking down, Laryn saw that her bra was peeking out a bit beyond the material of the tank top. Feeling her cheeks flush, she pulled on the tank, making sure it completely covered her. She fussed with it a bit, smoothing it down and brushing her hands over her thighs nervously.

“Now I feel frumpy,” Tate grumbled.

Laryn huffed out a breath. “As if,” she said under her breath.

But he’d heard. And he grinned. “I mean, I could take my flight suit off, but unlike you, I’m not wearing anything under it.”

“Nothing?” Laryn blurted, her imagination taking over as she envisioned him peeling off his garment, as she had hers.

“Well, I’m wearing some tighty-whities, but trust me when I say they aren’t nearly as sexy as what you’ve got on.”

Laryn rolled her eyes. “This isn’t sexy.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Tate said almost breathlessly.

They stared at each other for a long moment, the air feeling charged between them, before Tate nodded toward the bar.

“Come on. The guys’ll be worried if we don’t get inside. You look beautiful, Laryn. I never would’ve guessed my mechanic was hiding such an amazing body under those baggy coveralls.”

Then he took her hand in his, the grip tight, as if he thought she might run or someone might try to steal her away from him, and headed for the bar.