Nothing but Trouble

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

IT HAD BARELY turned seven the next morning when my phone rang.

“So, how did it go?” asked Jaz, excitement bubbling in her voice.

Now that I’d slept on it, I realised I couldn’t blame her for Mike being an asshole of the highest order. “Do you want to hear the bit where he told the entire restaurant a raccoon love story, or the part at the end where he left me crying at the side of the road?”

There was a long pause. “Tell me you’re kidding?”

“Honestly, you couldn’t make it up.”

“I want to hear everything.”

The tale sounded even worse the second time around. So bad that I thought for a minute I might have dreamed the entire thing, but then I looked at the table in the hallway and spotted the bag of fortune cookies the staff at the restaurant had given me as a sympathy gift. When the manager found me sitting on the ground, he’d handed me a glass of whisky, then had one of the delivery drivers drop me home.

“Hang on, he’s going to have raccoons spanking each other on stage? Like in Fifty Shades of Grey?”

“Apparently so.”

“You had a lucky escape there, girl. If you’d gone home with him, you’d probably have woken up shackled to the bed.”

A shudder ran through me. That would be worse than sitting through the raccoon show. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Then you’ll have to take your mind off things with another challenge. What’s next?”

I’d had a think about that when I woke up in a cold sweat this morning, in between contemplating the merits of hibernation versus jumping off a bridge.

“I’m going to try the driving.” At least if I had wheels, it would make escaping from disasters like the one at Silk Route last night so much easier.

“About time. I don’t know what I’d do without my car. I’d have to take Stevie on the bus.”

Heaven help the other passengers if she did that. The eight-twenty service would become the portal to hell.

“I need to find an instructor. Who taught you?”

“A friend of my mother’s used to give lessons, but he retired last year. Maybe you could look on the internet? Read some reviews?”

That wasn’t a bad idea. As soon as I’d had breakfast, I fired up my creaking laptop and clicked the search box. A couple of possibles came up, but one stuck out from the rest with a string of five star ratings. The Wilson School of Motoring.

- Grant Wilson is the best instructor ever.

- Recommended to any lady looking for lessons.

- Grant was amazingly patient through my course—I’d definitely give him full marks.

All of his reviews were like that, so I crossed my fingers and fired off a quick email, hoping he had some slots available.

It wasn’t long before my phone pinged, informing me of an incoming text message. Maybe it was Grant? I’d included my number when I contacted him.

It wasn’t.

What on earth did Mike want? Surely he’d said everything there was to say last night?

Mike: I’ve decided you’re worth another chance. How about dinner on Tuesday? I can pick you up.

I threw the phone down in disgust. What planet was he on? How could he think I’d want to be in the same room as him again after the way he treated me? The message wasn’t even worth a reply.

When my phone rang a little while later I almost threw it across the room, but I was glad I didn’t, because this time it was Grant calling.

“Ella Goodman?”

“That’s me.”

“You were looking for driving lessons?”

His voice was rich and smooth, like a decadent chocolate sauce sliding down my throat. If ever Grant needed a new career, he could make a fortune as a chatline operator. “Yes, that was me,” I squeaked.

“I’m usually booked solid, but a girl just cancelled a course because she broke her arm. Would you be interested in Monday at two?”

“In the afternoon?” I stupidly asked, then gave myself a mental slap.

Grant chuckled on the other end of the line. “Yes, Ella, in the afternoon.”

I loved the way he said my name. I’d never thought of it as sexy before, but when the Ls rolled off his tongue, I felt it between my thighs.

“Yes, absolutely, I can do two in the afternoon.”

I gave him my details, and by the time I hung up, I was fanning myself. I didn’t know how long it normally took to pass a driving test, but I hoped for somewhere close to the full year Edith had set for me.

On Sunday afternoon, I laid all my new purchases out on the bed in one of the spare rooms. For a couple of hours, I tried on various combinations, trying to work out what went with what. I couldn’t wear a dress for a driving lesson, could I? No, trousers would be better.

What did Grant look like? Would he have the face that went with the voice? Probably not, because that would be unfair to all other men. Knowing my luck, he’d have a nose the size of Mount Kilimanjaro and teeth like a horse. Or maybe he was short.

That didn’t stop me from getting out my new make-up and having a go, though. How did the woman in the shop do it? I tried for sultry, but ended up with “panda on crack.”

On Sunday night, hot men with no shirts on paraded through my mind, complete with tan chests and rippling muscles. When the alarm clock intruded on my slumber, I almost threw the damned thing across the room. Apart from my dreams, the closest I would ever get a man like that was to buy a calendar or possibly, just possibly, sitting on the other side of a gear shift.

In the end, I went for the simple look for my driving lesson. A pair of dark jeans and a polo neck with a padded gilet over the top. Even though we’d had a few days of sun, the February temperatures were lower than average, and I didn’t want to get cold in the biting wind. After one aborted attempt, I passed up on the idea of eyeshadow and went with mascara and a swipe of lip gloss. Even I couldn’t mess that up.

Grant was due to arrive at two, and by half past one, I was pacing the floral carpet in the hallway. Only part of my nervousness was due to the driving itself. What really left me trembling was the thought of controlling my libido while he spoke to me in that voice for two hours. I’d just made what seemed like my hundredth circuit when my phone beeped. Was he running late?

No. No, he wasn’t.

Mike: I haven’t had a reply to my previous message. That’s a little rude, but I’ll overlook it this time. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow evening.

My knees gave way, and I sank onto the little sofa by the front door, staring at the screen. Could the man not take the hint? I needed to think of a pithy message to make sure he understood that if he was the last man on earth, I wouldn’t go out to dinner with him again, but as I tried to compose something in my head, wheels crunched on the gravel outside, swiftly followed up by a couple of quick toots of a horn. Grant had arrived.

My palms were sweating as I picked up my bag and locked the front door behind me, and I willed my heart to slow down. It’s just a driving lesson. Nothing special. I did my best to shove Mike into the recesses of my mind—the last thing I needed was to be distracted by that i***t as I tried to concentrate.

Grant drove a cute royal blue Mini, and it was parked neatly at the end of the driveway waiting for me. As I got halfway to it, the driver’s door cracked open and a denim-clad leg emerged, followed by the body of a Greek god with the face of an angel. I gave up on the idea of breathing as I drank in the gorgeousness before me.

He smiled—a message from heaven, surely—and stuck out his hand. “Ella?”

What was my name again? Oh, yeah, that was me. I gingerly reached out, and fireworks engulfed me at his touch. No wonder he got so many five star reviews. I’d give him six stars without even getting in the car.

“Y-y-yes. It’s good to meet you.”

“Nervous?”

“Just a l-l-little.”

“It’s nothing to worry about. We’ll take it slow.”

Oh heck, why did he have to say that? Once he helped me into the car, I squeezed my thighs together as he leaned over and adjusted the driver’s seat, his face mere inches from mine. Up close, the smell of his aftershave tickled my nostrils, something with a hint of cinnamon. Oh my gosh, he was edible.

Hang on, was I smelling him? I’d lost the plot, big time. I leaned back in the seat and groaned.

“Belt too tight?”

I quickly shook my head. “No, it’s fine.”

He got in the passenger side, and I did my best to listen as he explained about the clutch and gears and brakes and steering. All I could hear, though, was the deep timbre of his voice, and the sexy pause at the end of each sentence.

Which was probably why I stalled the car as soon as I got out of the driveway.

But Grant had endless patience, and half an hour later, I’d done several circuits of the nearby housing development and mastered going and stopping. Luckily, traffic was quiet in the middle of the day. I hadn’t quite got to grips with gears yet, but Grant was doing those for me from his side of the car.

After I’d managed to change up into third for the second time, Grant gave me my next challenge.

“When you get to the end of this road, turn left.”

“Isn’t that the main road?”

“Yes, but you’re ready for it. Just have a bit of confidence in yourself.”

I let out a whoop when I managed to get out without crashing. I was driving! For the first time in my life, I was really driving! Maybe Edith’s goal of getting behind the wheel of a Ferrari wasn’t quite as unattainable as I thought?

By the time we headed back, I’d driven in four different gears and felt a lot more comfortable with challenge number three. At least until we headed for a crossroads.

“There are traffic lights there,” I hissed.

“You’ll be fine. Don’t panic.”

They got closer and closer, and a car came towards me. Then my phone pinged, and a vision of Mike popped into my head, wearing a scowl and looking distinctly unhappy.

“I can’t!” I squeaked.

“Just pull over then, and take a break.”

The car in front got bigger, and I panicked and jerked the wheel to the side. There was an almighty bump, and suddenly I wasn’t sitting next to Grant any more. I was suspended above him, the seatbelt cutting into my waist as the car came to rest in a ditch.

For a second, I had no words. If I’d been offered a one-way trip to Dante’s Inferno at that moment, I’d have taken it, and gladly paid extra for express boarding.

Without a hotline to the devil, I tried closing my eyes, but that didn’t help. I was still hanging in mid-air.

Finally, Grant spoke. “Next time, don’t turn the wheel quite so quickly.”

A flood of apologies washed out of me. “Oh my gosh, I’m so, so sorry. I just heard my phone go, and it distracted me, and all I can do is apologise, and if there’s anything I can do to make it right, I will...”

He touched my arm. “Ella, don’t worry about it. I’ve got insurance and these things happen. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”

“Really?”

“I once had a pupil accelerate into her own mother’s car as we pulled out of her driveway.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In the end, I settled for a gulping sob that sounded like an animal in pain.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and sort the mess out.”

He reached up and released my seatbelt, and I landed on him in a heap. Under any other circumstances, I’d have been quite pleased with that development, but right now, I barely noticed his muscular thighs or the six-pack pressed up against me. I just wanted to get out of the damn vehicle.

Grant gave me a boost up, and I managed to scramble out of the door above me. As I willed my shaking legs to stay upright, he climbed out himself and put his arm around my waist, steadying me.

“Are you okay? That’s the important thing.”

“Y-y-yes, I think so. Are you?”

“I’ll live,” he said dryly.

He eased me down to the ground, and I sat on the damp grass while he called for help. After a few minutes, he knelt next to me and tucked his jacket around my shoulders.

“You need to keep warm. I don’t want you going into shock.”

I was grateful for the extra warmth, but what about him? “Won’t you get cold?”

“I’m a big boy.”

Wasn’t he just? Once again, I was aware of our closeness, and the heat coming from his body made mine flood south. Ella, try to act normal. “So what happens now?”

“There’s a tow truck on its way for the car, and my boyfriend’s coming to pick us up.”

Hang on a second. His boyfriend? This perfect specimen of maleness was gay? A tinkling crash sounded in my ears as my already fragile heart shattered, and I slumped forward, drained. My soul wept with the unfairness of it all. Grant, who was sweet and kind as well as hot, went for men. I ended up with assholes like Terry and Mike. Tears prickled behind my eyes as I bit my bottom lip.

Grant tucked me closer to him and stroked my cheek. “It’s okay, Ella. It’s only a car.”

“It’s not just that.” Everything came pouring out. Terry, Edith, my awful evening with Mike. By the time I’d finished, I was a wreck.

At some point, Grant picked me up and put me in the back of a vehicle then climbed in beside me. I was vaguely aware of him putting on my seatbelt and wrapping an arm around me before we took off for a destination unknown.