Talk Me Down

When she recovered, Molly looked over her old friend’s tiny waist and narrow hips, then up to the big curls she wore in a chin-length bob. “Why does everyone think you’re gay?”

Lori held her drink with just her thumb and pinky and raised the other three fingers above the rim. “One,” she said and ticked it off, “I never put out in high school. Two, I refused to give Jess Germaine a blow job in his backseat when I finally did start dating. Three, I fix cars. Lesbian, all the way.”

“Well, I’ll try not to drop my keys near you, then.”

“Oh, I’ll be on you like white on rice, sista.”

They both roared with laughter at that, drawing looks from the other patrons. “Sorry,” Molly called. “Nothing to see here.” The men turned back to their beers, all except Ben, who sat at the other end of the bar, watching them like a movie. He aimed a disapproving glance at her drink, so Molly ordered another.

“I noticed you painted all the Love’s Garage trucks lavender.”

“Aren’t they pretty?”

“And your dad doesn’t mind? How is he, by the way?”

“He died a few months ago, Moll.”

“Oh! Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, Lori. No one told me.”

“It’s okay. You’ve been gone a long time.”

“I just…Last I heard he was doing better. Oh, Lori, I’m sorry.”

“No, it was time. He was ready—I could see it in his eyes.”

Molly nodded. “So you own the garage now?”

“Yep, the garage, the tow truck, the snowplows, all the land. And the glory, of course.”

There was a definite edge to her friend’s voice. “That’s great,” Molly said carefully. “But…I thought you were only going to put off school for a couple of years.”

“Yeah, so did I.”

“Didn’t you get an internship in Europe or something?”

Lori smiled, but there was no mistaking the sadness in her eyes. “Responsibility’s a bitch sometimes, you know?” She shook her head, setting her curls rocking. “Enough about that. Let’s talk about Ben. Did you two have a thing going before? I thought you were dating Ricky Nowell.”

“Yeah, I—Jeez, he doesn’t still live here, does he?”

“No, why?”

“Because I’ve told dozens of people how small his dick was, so that would be totally awkward.”

Lori snorted citrus vodka up her nose and spent a full thirty seconds coughing and wiping her eyes. Everyone was staring again.

And it only got worse after that.

BEN NODDED AT THE giggling pair of tipsy women. “I think I’d better offer you ladies a ride home,” he said as if he were just polite and not a police officer.

Molly waved him away. “Oh, I walked.”

“Then I definitely insist.”

“What, you think you’d find me ass-up in a snowbank tomorrow morning?”

“Not enough snow yet,” Ben answered and steered her out the door. To her credit, she managed to walk without weaving.

Lori followed behind, giggling. “I’m only two lots down, Ben. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll feel better if I drive you.”

“Yeah,” Molly added. “And it’ll give everyone something to talk about if we all leave together. Lori’s totally hot for me, Ben. She’s on me like…something. And we might let you watch if you ask real nice.”

Jesus. Not the image or the gossip he needed.

“Deal,” Ben said. “Let’s go to my place.” That shut her mouth quick. Lori collapsed against his back, shaking with laughter, and he couldn’t help but smile. “All right, ladies. Let’s see if we can get you home before you embarrass yourselves.” That only sent them into another fit of laughter. “Nobody’s gonna throw up, right?”

“I only had three drinks!” Molly protested, but when Ben stopped to open the passenger door of his truck, he shot her a quelling look.

“All right, four, but that was over two full hours.”

“So you’re just naturally hilarious?”

“Yes! Didn’t you know that?”

He had, actually, and he’d also known she was cute as hell before she’d shown up in her black boots and tights and tiny black miniskirt. Then there was the snug pink turtleneck. Pink, pink, pink. It was his new favorite color.

“Lori, you need help?”

“I’ve got it,” she called as she crawled into the backseat. Ben didn’t bother asking her to buckle. She really was only about a hundred feet from home.

Molly started to climb up, pulling herself in slow motion, so what could he do but wrap his hands around her waist to hoist her in? The sweater was thin, her skin hot beneath, and Ben had an almost irresistible urge to follow her up, stretch her out on the wide front seat and cover her up with his body.

Then again, all the computer equipment in the middle might put a damper on things. Not exactly satin sheets and feather pillows.

“Ben?” she breathed, as if she wouldn’t mind having a keyboard pressed into her back at all.

“Mmm?”

Her eyes were wide in the dark, her face turned up to his. She licked her lips, calling all his attention to her mouth, his favorite shade of his new favorite color…and then she collapsed into laughter.

Right. The drunk-off-her-ass part had escaped his mind for a moment.

“Let’s go, Chief,” Lori called from the back, reminding him there was also a friend-in-the-backseat part of the evening. Then there was the possible-illegal-sex-trade complication.

“Okay,” he breathed and stepped far out of the way before he shut the door on Molly and her many shades of pink. He’d only had two beers tonight; he was fine to drive, but apparently not fine to press his hand into the hot curve of her waist.

Ben tried to convince himself he wasn’t half-hard in the middle of Main Street as he rounded the truck and slid in behind the seat.