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JACOB'S TRUCK is boiling hot. Inside it, Evie feels like she's about to die with the heat hitting her from all sides, and when Jacob joins her in the driver's seat, it feels too hot. Like everything is turned up a notch.
She looks ahead of her, as she fumbles with the seatbelt. Trembling fingers, she tries her best not to make an embarrassing scene by not being able to work her hands properly—and get the bloody seatbelt to click in.
She blames it on the hot weather. She blames it on her reaction with her Dad earlier. She blames the young man getting into his truck to take her for brestfact at his Ranch. At his house. She blames the world. She blames herself...for being a nervous wreck and-
"Oh, for heaven's sake -"
"I got it," Jacob leaps in. He's in her personal space as soon as the words flow from his devastating lips. His body angled towards her in an angle that's too close for words. Too close for comfort, too close for her instant reaction to handle. He's so calm, cool, and collected. The opposite of her, and she loves it.
The scent of him washes over her in trickles of heat. Of coffee breathe, and something delicious...her eyes flutter for a second, dazed by him.
Then his warm hands touch the grey seat belt, lingering on her fingers before he snaps the seatbelt into place with a shot, sharp click, and smiles at her. Eyes sparkling, freckles smudged on his nose, she cannot help but admire him, for all that he is.
"Thank you," she breathes. He doesn't move away. For a moment, his hand stays locked on the buckle of the seatbelt, eyes dancing over her face before he drifts his touch over arm, then her neck. Evenertuuly. his hand reaches the side of her face to cup her chin. Softly, he brushes away her hair behind her ear, mouth slightly open, like he wants to pour words into the car, into Evie ears, to in the world that seems like it's just for them, in this very moment, but he sighs, lingers back, and withdraws his palm from her face, eyes darting to the windshield. He straightens, turns the key in the engine — the radio blasts out a song Evie's never heard before.
He raises an eyebrow. "No, problem, Ma'am."
"Evie," she says. "Call me Evie. You calling me Ma'am makes me think our age gap is weird."
Jacob laughs and puts the car in drive, rolls down the windows, and catches her side profile. "How weird. You are eighteen, I'm only two years younger. Sixteen, and it's not illegal for me to date. My parents don't mind...since I already told them about you."
Evie's heart flutters. He did? "You did?" She couldn't hide the surprise in her voice. Her heart flutters. Like wind charms. His eyes sparkle like stars, his side profile is handsome. Boyish, but handsome. "You told your parents about me?"
He nods, turning down the radio to hear her voice. "Of course. I have no secrets with my parents. My mom doesn't believe me when I tell you that you are British!"
