RecruitZ (Afterworld Series) (37 page)

“Traffic doesn’t look too bad,” she said, sipping from one glass and holding the other.

“Things are looking up,” I said, watching the downtown corridor flash by on our way to the floating bridge. The silvery, pink, and blue skyscrapers gave way to brick homes and condominiums lining the highway.

The traffic on the highway was nonexistent, which made the commute a breeze. I grabbed my empty flute back from Brandy and filled it halfway up as the nausea subsided. Our car glided onto the ramp of the 520-floating bridge, and I took a triumphant gulp of the fizzy stuff as we made our way across the water. I prevailed.

“This place is always so beautiful in the summer,” Brandy replied, looking out the window.

She was right. The calmness on the one side of the bridge allowed for the sun to dance off the glistening water, whereas the other side of the bridge presented the choppy whitecaps, which bounced off the worn cement of the bridge. I always wondered why there was such a difference between the two sides. There was always the calm side and always the choppy side, kind of like my life.

The car began to slow again and my stomach tightened. Just as I was about to take another sip of champagne, my entire body lunged sideways onto Brandy’s lap as our limo hit whatever was in front of us. I braced myself for a vehicle to crash into us from behind, but thankfully it was only the one hit as the sound of brakes and tires squealing behind us stopped. Bernie immediately rolled down the partition and looked panic stricken, checking us for injuries.

“You girls, okay?” he asked, breathless. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” His face was ashen and his brown eyes wide.

I hoisted myself out of Brandy’s lap and straightened up to see out the windshield.

“We’re okay, Bernie. Are you?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, clearly shaken.

“Not a drop spilt,” Brandy offered, trying to make him feel better with her usual dose of humor.

I shook my head and looked through the windshield. It looked like we’d hit some sort of white utility trailer. I couldn’t see what kind of vehicle was towing it, but judging by the size of the trailer, it would have to be something beefy. All I knew was getting in an accident on the bridge was every commuter’s worst nightmare. Bernie quickly opened his door and jumped out. I hoped they could quickly trade information and we could move on.

“Whoa. Sometimes things are meant to be,” she sang, squeezing my elbow.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. There was nothing worth getting in an accident over, especially as the horns blared behind us.

“
That’s
what I’m talking about,” she purred, yanking on me to look outside. “Did you know such perfection was possible?”

Clearly the bubbles had already gotten to her.

I craned my neck and saw Bernie hustling over to someone, and that’s when I saw him. I didn’t believe my eyes. Men like this didn’t exist in Seattle. We were a city full of hipsters and techies, but here he was… standing right next to our car. I felt as if my world had done a pause. Just the mere sight of him made my heart flutter like I was back in grade school waiting to open my very first Valentine.

This was crazy!

As he exchanged information with Bernie, I watched his every move. From his dark hair that the breeze mussed up slightly to the lopsided grin that he wore, I simply couldn’t look away. There was something so intriguing about him. I mean there was no denying it. The guy was completely built, but there was something more.

It didn’t hurt that his smile was out of this world, but any guy who just got rear-ended and had the decency to smile about it was unusual. The dark shadow along his jawline signaled a morning without a shave, which complimented his rugged appearance and I just…

“You stopped breathing,” Brandy mumbled and all I could do was smile.

He was dressed in a pair of ripped jeans, and his shoulders were broad, filling out his charcoal t-shirt. As my eyes fell back down to his jeans, my insides clashed madly as I glimpsed bronzed skin where his shirt had tugged up slightly. I looked over at Brandy who was in the same zone as me.

The way the sun was setting, I didn’t think he could see inside, but it somehow felt like his eyes were on me, watching me fidget. Okay. That was probably wishful thinking, but it really did feel that way. So much so that I refused to look in his direction, even though it was killing me not to check him out.

“Can he see through the windshield, do you think?” Brandy mused.

“Why?” I asked. “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure since the privacy glass is down.”

“Well, it looks like he’s captivated by someone back here and it’s not me,” she stated.

“Yeah. Then he definitely can’t see back here,” I said, feeling the heat run up my body.

“I’m pretty sure he can, and all I can say is lucky you.”

I turned my attention back to him and saw him speaking with Bernie, but I will admit his gaze did manage to gravitate in this direction.

“I think I’d trade my soul for one night with him,” I whispered.

“That’s my Gabby,” Brandy chuckled. “You just needed a Mr. Perfect to show up.”

“He’s completely unattainable,” I replied, daring myself to look at him once more. “That’s why I can say it. He’ll drive off, so will we, and I won’t have to worry.”

His hand gripped a leather wallet, and my gaze followed up his long, muscular arm as I watched him stuff it back in his pocket. How could a slight movement do this to me? His laughter echoed all the way to the car as he patted Bernie’s shoulder and dipped his head to peek through the windshield. This time there was no doubt who he was looking at as our eyes locked, sending a shiver up my spine. His long lashes outlined his amber eyes, and they were like liquescent gold as the sunlight caught the bronze flecks just right. I didn’t even think that was a possible eye color, except maybe in a little movie I happened to love back in high school and college, but still those were contacts. These weren’t. His lip quirked up, and he gave a slight nod. So slight, I wasn’t even sure it happened.

Brandy squealed and tightened her grip. “He’s coming this way,” she said.

“Quick. Sit over there.” I pointed to the backseat, and she dove toward it. I started laughing but followed right behind her. I felt the giddiness of high school fill me to the brim, and I had no idea why.

“How come we just did that?” she muttered, ready for the next commandment as she adjusted her dress.

“I have no idea,” I confessed.

I pointed at the Grecian God as he peered into the darkened glass next to us. He did a double tap on the window with his knuckles as his lips twisted into a cocky smile. When he stood back up, I noticed his shirt hugging his flat stomach and began dreaming about my fingers skating across it and started chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” Brandy quipped and I shook my head.

“I have no effing idea, but this mirage of a man is turning me into a mess.”

“He’s no mirage,” she replied.

I watched as the man threw us another lopsided smile, but I also knew this time he couldn’t see us. He just seemed to like the idea of messing with us.

“So, you got the President inside here or a bunch of giggling high school girls on their way to prom?” His voice low, scalding my insides.

Brandy looked at me horrified. “This is why you hate riding in this thing,” she stated.

I nodded quickly, keeping my eyes on the guy who was slowly moving toward the door.

“Completely pretentious modes of transportation will never lead to good things.” I took a deep breath in.

“Yep. My bet is that it’s a bunch of sixteen year olds,” he said coyly, arrogance filling his every word and gesture. “Waiting to get—”

Brandy’s breathing stopped at about the same time mine did.

My heart fell to my toes as he opened the door and ducked his head inside the limo. He was gorgeous. No. That’s not true. He was beyond gorgeous. His amber eyes filled with mischief as he looked at Brandy and then at me.

He looked to be in his late twenties. I heard Bernie talking, but I couldn’t decipher what he was saying. All I could do was look at this piece of perfection as he toyed with us and obviously enjoyed it. My hand slid up by my necklace as I attempted to block my scar from his view, but all that did was make me more self-conscious.

“Are you two okay?” he asked.

I nodded, speechless, and looked away.

“That was quite a hit,” he continued. “I’m an EMT if…”

I whipped my head around, intending to give him a mocking glance, but instead I wound up blushing as his smile turned to a wonderfully wicked grin with his eyes capturing my discomfort.

“If he can do that with his eyes, I can’t even imagine what he can do with…” Brandy whispered in my ear.

“What was that?” the man’s voice rumbled, eyeing me, not Brandy.

“Okay, you’ve had your fun,” I told him, flushing from the inside out. “We’ve got an event we’re late for.” I watched his eyes follow my lips as I spoke, which did nothing but create a hornets nest inside of me. How could his eyes do that to me, penetrate me like that?

“You’re right. What was I thinking? You’re the only ones who have a place to be.” He flashed me another wide grin. The intensity in him shifted only slightly as he pretended to be annoyed. “I wasn’t on my way to anywhere in particular. In fact, I had only planned on driving back and forth on the bridge all night. One side… Then the other…”

“I didn’t mean that where we had to go was more important than you,” I sputtered out. This is what I hated about riding in these things. Limos automatically put people in the ass-hat category. However, wanting to live up to the already laid reputation, my lips pinched together, and my arms crossed automatically.

“Maybe we’re headed to the same place,” he replied, his eyes carefully reading my actions, teasing me. “Although, judging by how you’re dressed, it’s doubtful.”

I frowned and looked away from the guy and mumbled, “You really should drive more carefully.”

The guy laughed and my eyes flicked back to his. “That’s what most people hear when they’ve just gotten rear-ended,” he replied. “Well, I think I struck out here so my insurance will be in touch.” He gave me a wink and ducked out of the car.

I watched Bernie and the guy trade goodbyes quickly before he jogged back to whatever vehicle was pulling the trailer.

Brandy reached for the bottle of champagne and replenished both of our flutes. “I think someone’s got a crush on the mystery man.”

“I do not.”

“You always get this way when you do,” she continued laughing.

“What way?” I demanded.

“Snippety.” She smiled as if she’d won the battle.

Bernie climbed back into the car, apologizing profusely, and Brandy and I both resituated back to the side seat. I watched as the utility trailer pulled away and we followed.

“It looks like it did more damage to this car than his trailer,” Bernie said. “It’s gonna be in the shop for awhile.”

“That’s a shame,” Brandy replied sarcastically. Finally the woman was on my side about riding in this car.

“So what’s that guy’s name?” Brandy asked Bernie. I jabbed her in the ribs, and all she did was laugh.

“Jason something or other,” Bernie replied. “I’ve got it written down. He certainly got a kick out of you two, didn’t he?”

“Jason,” Brandy repeated it for me as if I didn’t hear it the first time. “That’s a nice name.”

She was about to get on one of her ‘pair up Gabby’ kicks so I quickly deterred her, hoping her champagne consumption would aid in my rescue.

I turned to her and asked, “You wanna know what’s more ridiculous than showing up to places in a limo?”

“What?” she asked playfully, batting her lashes and forgetting about setting me up with the stranger.

“Pulling up to a place in a busted-ass limo,” I replied, and we both started laughing. Dating crisis averted once again.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Karice Bolton lives in the Pacific Northwest with her awesome husband and two wonderfully cute English Bulldogs. She enjoys the fact that it rains quite a bit in Washington and has an excuse to stay indoors and type away. She loves anything to do with the snow and seeks out the stuff whenever she can.

To contact the author, please visit her online at
http://www.karicebolton.com
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Cover Artist: Phatpuppy

Photographer/Wardrobe Styling: Teresa Yeh

Model: Taylor Smith

Leather bracelet and holster: Chris Anderson