Underestimated (56 page)

“It’s very tranquil here,” he said, looking out to the

endless sea.

“Yes, a lot more so than the desert,” I replied.

“We don’t have to live there, Morgan,” he said

with a serious expression.

I snorted. “Where would we live?”

“Where ever you want,” he assured me.

I didn’t reply. I didn’t want to think about that at

the time.

“Do you want to mow or change the oil first?” I

asked instead.

“I’m pretty sure I have no clue how to do either,”

he admitted.

“You’re such a girl,” I teased.

“Are you calling me a pussy again?

I laughed. “Yes, but I was trying to be nice about

it.”

Chapter 21

Drew and I dressed and walked out to the back

yard to retrieve the mower. The yard really wasn’t that

bad. Dawson had kept up on it throughout the summer. I

primed the pump by pushing the little ball three times and

had to explain to Drew why I did it.

“Where’s the key?” He wanted to know. I couldn’t

help it. I laughed, really laughed. He couldn’t be that

domesticated. No man was that ignorant.

“That’s it. We’re not friends anymore,” he

determined and started walking away.

“I’m sorry. Come back. I promise not to laugh at

you for the rest of the day.”

He wrapped his arm around my back and kissed

me. “If you do, I am going to bend you over my knee and

beat your sexy little ass,” he promised.

Okay, maybe I would laugh at him again.

“Pull the handle,” I explained, pointing to the T-

handle cord.

He pulled it gently and nothing happened. I had to

bite my lip to keep from laughing again.

“You’re asking for it,” he warned.

“Pull it like you mean it,” I coached, and held the

handle to engage the blades. He did, it started right up. He

grinned like he had just passed a milestone or something. I

know most women would have been turned off by his lack

of manly mechanic ability, but I wasn’t. I thought it was

cute.

“You’re ready,” I called over the loud motor. “Just

go in straight rows, up and back,” I explained.

I watched as he made his first swipe. He had the

biggest smile as he turned and mowed the next strip

toward me.

“This is kind of fun,” he said, stopping to kiss me.

“Pull back on the handle and lift the front wheels

when you turn,” I told him, still wrapped in one of his

arms.

“Why?” he asked. That’s when I noticed Dawson

parked across the road, standing by his cruiser with

Lauren, both looking right at us.

I self-consciously stepped away from Drew. “So

that you get a clean straight line without the curves,” I

explained. He didn’t catch my sudden retreat and did what

I told him to do.

I smiled over at Dawson. He sort of smiled back.

He was hurt, and it was killing him to see me with Drew.

Lauren just had a pitiful look. She didn’t like the hell that I

was putting Dawson through.

I retrieved the weed eater from the shed and

started doing the trimming while Drew mowed my yard. I

wanted to walk across the road and go to Dawson, but I

couldn’t, not at the time. I wouldn’t know what to say

anyway.

Drew and I spent an hour on the yard, and then he

helped me pull weeds from the flower bed, which

surprised me. I was sure he had never in his life pulled a

weed. I looked up to see Dawson backing out of Lauren’s

driveway. He had his hand on his chin, staring right at me.

Drew helped me carry the car ramps to the

driveway next. I really didn’t need them and wouldn’t

have even bothered had he been a little more mechanically

inclined. I placed the ramps in front of both tires. He was

afraid of running over them, so I had to pull the car up.

“I cannot believe that I am lying under a car in the

gravel,” he said.

Our heads were side by side, and our feet hung out

the front of the car. I thought it was extremely sexy for

some reason.

“What do we do now?” he asked, moving his lips

to mine. He must have thought that it was pretty hot too. He

kissed me for at least three minutes.

“Are we changing the oil or are we going to get it

on?” I asked, ready to say the hell with the oil.

He smiled on my lips. “I’m changing the oil. Tell

me what to do.”

“This is the drain plug,” I pointed. “You have to

take it out and let the old oil drain into the pan.” I had to

tell him to back up before he got a face full of oil.

We stood by the car and waited for it to drain.

“Your friend left,” he said, looking over to

Lauren’s.

“You noticed that?”

“Yes. I noticed, and I don’t like the way he looks

at you,” he admitted.

“Will you buy me a new car so that I can drive to

find my mother?” I asked, totally circumventing his

comment.

He laughed. “No. I would rather you fly. I will get

you a private flight.”

“I don’t want to fly. I want to drive. I drove all the

way from Vegas to here in this car,” I explained. I did

want to drive. I wanted the alone time to think, and try to

figure out what road I should take in my fucked up life.

“I don’t like it, but, you don’t need me to buy you a

car. You have enough money to buy every car on the lot. I

will go with you though. I’m definitely not letting you

drive this thing.”

“This has been the best car I have ever owned,” I

assured him.

He laughed again. “How many cars have you

owned, Mrs. Kelley?” he asked with a kiss.

I didn’t answer. It didn’t need an answer. It only

needed my tongue, dancing with his.

“I never imagined an oil change could make me

wet,” I said to his lips.

He took a step back. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

I laughed. “Why?”

“Because it makes me want to slide my fingers

inside of those skimpy little shorts, and find out for

myself.”

“Jesus, Drew. You can’t say stuff like that,” I

demanded, using the same words.

He smiled. “Okay, that’s enough foreplay. Let’s get

back to the oil change. What do I do now?”

I took the wrench for the filter and explained that

we had to change the filter. He got it off, and was damn

proud of himself for the small task of removing the old and

securing the new filter. He backed the car off of the ramps,

and I showed him where to add the new oil. He closed the

hood, and we put the ramps away.

“Now can we go look for more of those jewels?”

he asked.

“I’m kind of hungry. Can we eat first?”

“I guess so,” he whined.

We ate toasted cheese sandwiches with a jar of

Starlight’s homemade tomato soup. Nobody made tomato

soup like Starlight. It was the best soup in the world, and I

am not exaggerating when I say that either.

Drew and I walked down the rocky path toward

the beach. I really hoped that he found a piece of sea glass.

He was really excited about it, although I wasn’t too

optimistic that he would. It didn’t get washed up very

often.

I told him everything that John had told me about

looking for it. We squatted at a gravel pile and carefully

moved rocks looking for the dull glass. We had walked for

quite a while, scavenging through the little rocks. He found

a piece of shiny green glass with sharp edges. He was

super excited. I hated to burst his bubble, but I had to.

“Yes!” he exclaimed wiping the dirt and grime

away with sea water.

“That’s junk Drew,” I explained. “Throw it back

and maybe someday it won’t be.”

“What do you mean is junk? It’s pretty,” he assured

me.

“It’s nothing but a broken bottle. It hasn’t been

ground or polished by sand and rock, and it doesn’t have

any erosion form the salt water.”

He pouted with a long face and threw it back to the

sea as hard as he could.

I was beginning to lose hope when we searched

our seventh pile of graveling sand. I saw the black glass.

My heart even started to pick up a few extra beats. I knew

that the black glass was the rarest of all to find. I didn’t

want to point it out. I wanted him to find it. He was just

too excited about it.

My sneaker tapped, nervously, waiting for him to

see what I was seeing. Black glass was so hard to find

because it looked so much like a normal pebble. This

piece however showed the frosting from time and

condition. I almost pointed it out when he picked it up and

brushed his thumb across it.

“How about this?” he asked, looking up to me.

I feigned ignorance and took it from his hand.

“Yes. Do you have any idea what you just found?” I asked.

He stood, curious as I held it to the sun.

“What is it?” he asked.

I handed it back. “Hold it to the sun and you will

see that it’s not actually black at all.”

“It’s purple,” he said. “Do you know what it’s

from?”

“My guess is an old medicine bottle, at least a

hundred years old.” I explained how they were made with

iron slag. Because of no refrigeration back then, they made

the bottles stronger and more resistant to shattering and the

harsh conditions of centuries past kept its contents from

going bad.

“I found a rare piece?” he asked with a boyish

grin.

“The rarest,” I assured him. “That piece may have

even come all the way from Italy.”

“Wow. Really?” he asked, looking at his treasure

through the sun again.

“Yup,” I smiled at his excitement.

“I’m going to have a necklace made out of it.”

“Are we done hunting sea glass?” I asked. We had

been there for almost three hours. I was hot and needed

something to drink.

“Yeah, but I kind of wanted to climb that rock,” he

said, pointing to the peak, where the sea only let you cross

at a certain time of the day.

“You’re joking,” I said, hoping that he was.

“No. Come on,” he said, placing his new treasure

safely in his pocket, pulling my hand.

“Drew, we can’t climb that rock. One of us is

going to get hurt.”

“I’m a doctor,” he said, ignoring me.

I didn’t laugh. This was not just a little rock. This

was a cliff. There was no way we were going to make it to

the top without breaking our neck.

I complained the whole walk back, protesting his

mission. He won.

Drew made me go first, and I slowly and carefully

chose where to put my fingers and toes. This was

ridiculous. This was the type of rock that you wore

harnesses and had security ropes for when you fell. We

were going to fall. I was sure of it. There was no doubt in

my mind. Maybe that was the plan. If I fell to my death

rock climbing with my husband, he would inherit all of my

fortunes. I started to panic, wondering if I was climbing

my way to my death.

“Morgan?” Drew said, grunting from behind me,

pulling himself higher up the sea cliff.

“What,” I answered, pulling myself up the complex

elevation.

“Thank you for this. This has been the best couple

days of my life.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t planning on murdering me.

I smiled as I continued against my will to make my way to

the top.

We finally made it, and my seldom used muscles

quivered. Rock climbing was hard work. I couldn’t

believe it when we finally sat on the edge of the cliff. We

were high, really high. Our feet dangled over the

dangerous cliff. It was absolutely breathtaking.

“How are we getting down?” Drew asked with a

laugh.

“We’re not going down,” I assured him. “We are

going up.” There was no way I was climbing back down.

He laughed. “Take your shorts off so that I can fuck

you up here.”

My first thought should have been no fucking way,

but it wasn’t. I looked around. There was absolutely no

way anyone could see us up there, except maybe the sail

boat, if they had binoculars.

“Drew?” I said in a question.

“What?” he mimicked my tone. “I will do all the

work. You just get naked and lay back.”

“You’re serious?” I asked.

He unbuttoned his jeans and removed his half-staff

cock. “Take your shorts off, Morgan,” he demanded,

stroking himself and letting me know that he was more

than serious.

Of course I did just that. What the hell else was I

supposed to do? My vagina always seemed to be working