More Than a Mission - Caridad Pineiro [31]
“Find something?” Lucia questioned.
Aidan nodded, aware that she would see him via the garden camera. “You might say the mother lode. Let Walker know. I’m e-mailing you all the pictures now for someone to examine.”
He placed the bag back into his pocket, quickly dispatched an e-mail with the digital photos, and returned to the backyard, settling himself on the low stone wall to wait for Elizabeth.
When she emerged, she nearly took his breath away. White capri pants emphasized those amazing legs and slim lines. A white crop top with pink polka dots left most of her sculpted midriff exposed. Her thick mass of hair was tied back with a pale-pink scarf, pulling his attention to her amazing eyes and the full lips he had liked kissing so much the other night.
Damn. She was dressed to kill and as her gaze met his, he realized it was not by accident.
She didn’t know why she had chosen this particular outfit, but the flare of heat in Aidan’s eyes proved she had made a good choice. That is, if she wanted whatever was happening between them to progress to the next level. Which her daring side was thinking she might, immediately before her more repressed side argued that it was totally insane. Daring side being ahead two to nothing at this point.
Reaching into the denim drawstring bag she was using as a purse, she pulled out her keys and dangled them before him. “We need to get the car. It’s garaged a few blocks down.”
He fell into step beside her as they walked to the main street and then toward the docks. They had gone only a short distance when she stopped by the garage next to the fish shop her parents had used to own.
Aidan seemed quick to pick up on that, for he asked, “Your parents’ old store?”
With a nod, she slipped the key into the lock on the garage door. “After they died, a cousin took over running the shop in exchange for buying it out. It helped pay some of the bills.”
“But not all?” he questioned.
“Not all,” she answered truthfully. If Aidan was after something other than time with her, best he know now that money wasn’t necessarily something of which she had a lot. The restaurant turned a profit, but only enough for her to be comfortable.
When she reached for the handle to lift the door, he said, “Let me.”
She stepped aside and he grabbed hold of the garage door handle and lifted the door to reveal her father’s prized roadster.
Aidan let out a low whistle. “That’s a beauty. What is it?”
She walked into the garage and ran her hand lovingly over the hood. “A 1962 Gaston convertible. It was my Da’s.”
Sleek and sporty, the car screamed speed, she thought, and lovingly ran a hand over the smooth line of the driver’s-side fender.
Aidan walked around the car, smiling. “This is a classic. Eight-cylinder engine. Chrome fenders, exhaust and spoke-wire wheels. Even the racing stripe,” he said with the unadulterated glee of a boy on Christmas morning.
“Da’s pride and joy. Silvershire’s finest, he said. I even bought one of the Gaston new hybrids a few years back, but gave it up to keep this one.”
“I can see why,” he replied and ran his hand along the buttery-smooth leather of the passenger seat.
“Help me put the top down,” she replied after Aidan had finished his inspection of the roadster.
He did as she asked and once the top was down and secured, eased into the passenger seat. She started the car and even with its age, the engine was as smooth as ever. She made it a point to have the car regularly serviced as her father might have if he was still alive.
Wheeling the low-slung roadster out of the garage, she turned onto the road leading away from town and Aidan looked at her quizzically. “Where are we headed?”
“Everywhere and anywhere. Just trust me,” she said, smiling as the sun shone down on them and the wind blew into the cab of the car as she picked up speed.
Aidan’s gaze met hers, and for a moment it seemed as if