“Sit in the seat.”
“I ken, I wanted tae see what I was doin’ first. Tis like a carriage. Ye are certain tis nae just for the women? If there was a horse I could ride alongside ye. Twould be safer I think, I would be up higher, I could see danger comin’. I could warn ye if the road was washed away.”
“None of that is necessary, and I don’t have a horse... climb in — boy are you in for a good time.”
He took off his sword belt and placed it on the back seat. Then he slid into the seat, leaving one foot out on the ground, his hand on the roof.
“Whatcha doing, Torin?”
“Tis so I can jump out if I need tae.”
“You won’t need to, you have to get all the way in, or we can’t drive.”
“I am expected tae drive?”
“No, figure of speech.”
He drew his foot in and I closed his door and went around to get in the driver’s seat.
I pulled out a key and put it in the ignition. My Beamer roared into life. I grinned. “Hear the power?”
He said, “Och nae, I hear it, it daena sound like tis working.”
I revved it. “You like this, Torin?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “It daena seem safe.”
I said, “Put on your seat belt.” I leaned across him, pulled the belt across his wide chest, and clicked it into the buckle as he watched every movement, but then his eyes settled on the side of my face. He was very close, his chiseled cheek right there, almost close enough to kiss.
Dear God, what was I doing?
His eyes narrowed.
I nervously laughed, pulling away. “Sorry, all up in your personal space.”
His voice deep and rumbling, hot, he said, “I daena mind.”
I was flustered. I put on my own belt and tried to change the subject. “What’s the round bag with the silver clasp that you wear on the front?”
“Tis m’sporran.”
I repeated, “Your sporran,” blowing air at my forehead trying to cool off. “What’s the design on the front?”
He said, “I tooled it m’self, tis a stag.” He ran his hand through his hair.
“I like it, is that a thistle on the clasp?”
He nodded.
I pushed my favorite driving cd into the player: the Dave Matthews Band, the best song, Crash into Me. I loved the vibe of the music as I drove down the two lane winding roads through these woods.
Yet, as the first notes began to play, Torin’s hand tugged his lobe with a wince. “What is the...?”
“Too loud?”
I turned the volume down. “This is an um...” I had almost said ‘love song’ but said instead, “Perfect driving music, we must play it while we careen down the road. The beat inspires the speed.”
Then, my hands on the wheel. I grinned again. “Ready?”
