When the light, scruffy mop of hair first appeared on the porch of the large house, Noah was momentarily thrown off kilter; his verbal tirade caught short in mid-sentence. The man was remarkably good looking and exuded a sultry air he seemed all too aware of.
The older man with whom Noah was loudly conversing, had taken advantage of the pause to get a word in. "As I was trying to explain," he'd begun.
Noah hadn't heard him. He had already started up the drive to meet the gown-clad youngster halfway. But to his utmost astonishment and affront, the blonde had simply breezed by him as though Noah were some invisible ghost; not even worth a passing glance.
Unaccustomed to being ignored, Noah was still struggling to deal with this deliberate disregard, while his hormones flashed wildly between anger over the car and a strong sexual desire he'd never felt toward another person before.
And it was one he planned to quash right there and then! Romantically pursuing anybody as obviously hot-headed and reckless as the man before him, could wind up as a potential career killer. And that was excluding the shotgun mouth the blonde seemed blessed (or cursed) with.
The blonde stood examining the car cross-armed and determined; spoiled-brat mode in full swing. And it was at that moment that Noah noticed something rather more natural about him...
He was wearing next to nothing.
Trying not to allow his instant attraction seem so headline obvious, Noah dragged his eye-line up from the man's barely concealed torso. The object of his interest chose that moment to whip of his ridiculously large pair of sunglasses and reveal two beautiful fawn-lashed amber-brown eyes that mirrored his astonishment at what he obviously regarded as Noah's stark overreaction.
Noah knew he was staring. He hadn't expected to see such a gentleness behind the eyes of such a fire cracker.
"The car's fine," brown eyes was saying. "It's just going to be a little scratched is all... I get that there are only a couple hundred in the world but..."
"Four," Noah interrupted
"Huh?"
Noah sighed deeply and deliberately. "There are only four of these cars in the world. Two if you're only considering the year of they came off the line."
A breathy "oh" escaped the blonde's lips and Noah watched his neck contract as he swallowed hard. The brown eyes creased as he considered the damaged vehicle before him.
"That will be why I've had so much interest in the auction." He turned back to Noah with a question on his lips. "How much?"
Taken back a bit, Noah frowned. "How much what?"
"How much is the car worth? How much can I expect to get at the auction?"
"Well, in its current condition a whole fucking lot less!"
"Okay smart ass! I get that I'm a screw up! I don't need yet another jumped-up prick telling me as much! I know!" He took a deep breath before continuing, "In its current condition, how much is it worth?"
Noah thought for a moment, "Anything up to $250K. Could be more if it incites a bidding war on the day."
"This heap of junk? Did you hear that, Dad?" The young man asked, addressing the older man who'd remained silent up till then. "That would stop a few of the sharks from circling, right?"
Holden whistled, "Sure would, son."
Noah felt all at once confused. Dad? He took a closer look at the older man, wondering how these two were related to the infamous Damian Grimaldi, to whom the car belonged.
The blonde tilted his head at Noah, his wide lips curling up on one side with a sultry smile, "Perhaps you can fix it?"
Noah offered a deep laugh. "Me fix it? No fucking way! This is your mess and currently still your car... you fix it! Then, when you're ready to sell it, I might consider putting in an offer."
The young man walked over to the back end of the upturned car. Noah couldn't help but follow the shape of his rounded backside as it molded under the thin cotton gown.
"Looking for something?"
Noah gulped and glanced up into the shrewd brown eyes. "Yes," he replied, "some sense!"
The blonde huffed and turned back to the car, "Well, it can definitely be fixed! It's just upside down! A few repaired scratches and voila!" He turned to his father. "Dad, take down the man's details..."
The boy's father frowned at him in confusion, "But son, don't you know who this..."
"Dad!" The blonde interrupted quickly before the older man could finish. "Just do it, okay? Please?"
The father nodded with a slight smile on his lips and watched alongside Noah as the blonde disappeared back inside the house.
"You know, you should go a little easier on him," the man said to Noah. "He's a good kid. He's just been having a rough time of things lately."
Noah huffed, striding down to his car to pull a pad and pen from the console and write down his name and cell phone number.
By the time they'd settled details, the blonde had reappeared on the wrap-around porch wearing a pair of faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt one size too small. Even at a distance, Noah could make out every curve and fold of the muscles hidden beneath.
Eyes once again hidden behind his sunglasses, the blonde made his way over to a blue convertible parked further down the drive beside an old battered pickup truck that looked oddly out of place.
"Hold on!" Noah called, quickly making his way over.
"Is there something else?" The blonde asked as soon as Noah was close enough to hear. He regarded Noah with a cheeky smile on his lips.
"Yes," Noah replied. "Before you get into another expensive car, maybe you should consider going a little easier on the booze next
time."
The smile flickered slightly and then disappeared altogether.
"Look," he said. "You got your point across, okay? Message received loud and clear! I'm a screw up, you're Mr. Sensible and I now have yet another task to add to my long list of problems. Fix a car, sell it to you. Got it!"
He jumped into the convertible, slammed the door and lowered the window. Noah was quick to shoot his hand through the window and grab the car keys.
"Hey!" The blonde complained.
"Before you go, I have one question," Noah said.
"What?"
"How exactly did the car end up in the roses?"
The blonde shifted his gaze downward and cleared his throat,muttering something Noah had no hope of hearing.
"What did you say?" Noah asked. "I didn't catch that."
The blonde snatched back his keys and gunned the engine.
"I guess I left the hand brake off..."
With that he reversed backward down the drive leaving Noah to gaze after him...
...
Why the hell did you forget to put the handbrake on?
Luke slammed his palms against the steering wheel a few times. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"
And why in God's name couldn't he have just apologized for his bad behavior; smoothed things over?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
His heart was still pounding hard in his chest from the sheer intensity of the confrontation. He gripped the steering wheel as he made his way down the winding coastal road. He trembled as he thought things over. He was seriously sorry about the car. He'd not damaged it on purpose. He was essentially a good person. The stranger just hadn't had a chance to see that yet. Luke never set out to cause any upset.
He had drunk too much the night before. Way too much. More than he'd ever done before. Deep down he knew he was in trouble. He wanted help. He wanted somebody else to hold him and tell him things were going to work out and he'd get his old life back. That was all he wanted. His old life on the farm in Oakdale with his family and the horses.
As a Grimaldi, life in Los Angeles brought him nothing but booze, parties, drugs, sex, violence... To name only a few things.
And now here he was, saddled with Damian's crumbling estate and mounting debts.
He caught a flash of silver-grey in his rear-view mirror before his car jolted roughly and caused him to veer wildly around the road. He depressed the brake and managed to move off the road just as the convertible shuddered to a halt.
A Porsche sped past him but he barely glanced at it. Instead, he dropped his forehead onto the steering wheel.
"Shit!"
He remained that way for some time, until he heard footsteps approaching his window and a deep voice say, "Need some help?"
"What do you think?" he replied with laced sarcasm.
His eyes locked with the rich blue of Mr. Gorgeous.
"What I think," the man said, bending at the window, "is that you need a serious lesson in how to handle a car."
Something softened inside of Luke. Or perhaps he was just too tired to continue the charade. He quirked a smile. "Oh yeah? And are you the man who's going to give it to me?"
Good looking smiled back and it eased the tightness in Luke's chest.
"Why don't you get out of the car?" he suggested.
Luke extracted himself from the seat with deliberate slowness. He clicked the door closed by leaning back against it.
The man's scent hit him then, blown over on the ocean breeze. Luke had to force himself not to close his eyes and drink it in.
God, but he's sexy!
"So," the stranger asked, "you going to tell me what the trouble is?"
Luke felt his smile slip. He immediately wanted to spill his life's problems to the man . But he knew that wasn't what the stranger was asking.
"Um," he faltered but managed to pull himself back together. "It's done it before. I think it overheats or something."
The stranger nodded, heading over to the front fender. "Pop the hood, will you? Let me have a look." Then as he leaned over the engine he crooned, "It's a beaut!" He directed his gaze back at Luke. "Gift?"
"Yeah," Luke replied. "From Damian."
The man nodded. "Man has good taste in cars. Shame you don't show the same appreciation."
Luke let the comment slide. He was too busy tracing the young man's body with his eyes; wondering what it would feel like to tangle those thick dark curls between his fingers; fascinated at how the wavy ends caressed the broadness of his neck. Luke wished he would look up at him; see him. But he realized how ridiculous that hope was now. Especially after the way Luke treated him up at the house.
"You need a specialist for a car like this. Somebody who can run proper diagnostics on the engine. You know somebody like that?"
Luke nodded, "Yeah. I'll give him a call later. Will it run now at least?"
"Should... now that it's cooled down a bit. But you really shouldn't drive it like this. Want me to follow you home?"
Yes.
"No... no, that's okay." Luke swallowed. Besides, he had no intention of going back to the house. He had legal appointments to attend to that day and debts to settle. Those he could anyway. He pushed his heavy bangs out of his eyes and leveled his shoulders; trying to exude an air of confidence he didn't feel. "Thank you for stopping. After the way I treated you, you really weren't obligated."
He was rewarded with a smile that made the man's eyes twinkle like blue diamonds. Luke's heart painfully squeezed.
"Sure." the man replied.
He seemed reluctant to leave Luke standing there, but when Luke didn't say anything to make him stay, he retreated to his car and gave a small wave as he drove away.
(I'd be interested to know if you are reading this. Please comment and let me know. Thanks.)