Page 54 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

I chuckled. “Should we go for a drive?”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Clara nudged August away from the game. “Gus, time for a break.”

“Okay, Mom.” He looked up at her with so much love and admiration. That kid worshiped his mother. Lucky guy. All kids deserved to have a mother like Clara.

We hadn’t gotten into much of her story yet. Or his. I hoped we would on the drive because while my curiosity was sated for the moment, the hunger to know everything about her would return.

I stood from the couch and collected her empty coffee mug. We’d been so into the story, I hadn’t needed a refill. I’d been glued to her every word. “Let me put these in the sink. I’ll meet you outside.”

With flip-flops on my feet and my wallet tucked into a pocket of my shorts, I found them in the driveway. August was already buckled into his car seat while Clara stood beside the passenger door. Her green shorts left her long, tanned legs on display. A white tee draped over her trim frame.

Beautiful. She’d only grown more beautiful.

She tossed me the keys with a smirk and popped open her door.

It was strange, getting behind the wheel of a car I’d once slept in for months. One glance at the backseat and I didn’t see white leather or August, but Londyn lounging against one side while I was against the other, our legs tangled.

Clara followed my gaze. “It’s hard not to see her back there, isn’t it?”

“We had a lot of good times in this car.”

“What’s that saying? You never forget your first love.”

My gaze shifted to her face.

Londyn hadn’t been mine. I was sure that Clara thought so, but Londyn had been a great girlfriend. A best friend. My first love? No. I’d thought so at the time but now, years later, after growing up, I knew the difference between affection and love.

“No, you don’t forget.”

When she turned my way, something crossed her face. Shock, maybe. Or was she back there with me, at the junkyard when we’d lain on the hood of this car to count shooting stars?

“Where are we going?” August asked.

I tore my eyes away from Clara’s soft lips and put the key into the ignition.

Clara cleared her throat. “Um, just for a drive.”

“Another drive,” he groaned. “For how long?”

 

; “Short.” I turned and gave him a wink. “Promise.”

“I bet we could drive by the ocean again,” Clara said.

“Sure thing.” I started the engine, feeling the rumble and vibration of what had to be a state-of-the-art engine. “Ahh. She purrs. Like she always should have.”

“And she floats.” Clara dug a pair of sunglasses from her purse and slid them on, covering up those sparkling irises.

I fought the urge to take them from her face. I fought the swell in my chest—and behind my zipper.

Get your shit together, Avery. This should not be my reaction. It had to be history, right? Shock? That was the only explanation for why my head and my body were having such a hard time distinguishing the Clara from my memory and the Clara riding shotgun.

Shaking it off, I put the Cadillac in reverse and backed out of the driveway. I drove us to the highway, and as my foot pressed the gas pedal, I couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, yeah, she floats.”

“Told you.”

“Londyn’s never getting this car back.”