“It is all right. We are halfway there,” he cooed, his voice coaxing. “Just turn to face forward for me, yes?”
Mary closed her eyes briefly, but then released a small sigh, firmed her mouth and carefully shifted in his lap until she sat facing forward. She was immediately sorry she had. This new position left her completely enveloped by the man, his arms on either side of her, his body behind and beneath her and his clean, wholesome scent encasing her like a sausage in a bun.
Speaking of sausage, what the hell was that poking her in the bottom? Surely it wasn’t—Good Lord, it was!
“This is good, yes?” Dante asked, his words a breathy whisper that stirred the hair by her ear and Mary swallowed against the response her body was having and gave her head a firm shake. This was not good. Although she didn’t get the chance to say so before he added, “We are almost there.”
She nearly asked, almost where? But managed to bite back the question.
“Now. You put your foot on the gas pedal and I will slip my foot out from beneath yours.”
Relieved to have something to think about other than what she was quite sure was poking her in the bottom, and the fact that young men were such a horny mess of hormones they could be turned on by tired old women like her, Mary tried to put her foot on the gas pedal and found she couldn’t. The boy had long legs and had pushed the seat back. She couldn’t reach it.
“Scoot forward,” Dante instructed.
Mary didn’t have to be told twice. She shifted forward on his lap so swiftly one would have been forgiven for thinking he’d lit a lighter under her butt. Once she was perched on the very tip of his knees with as little of her behind touching him as possible and the steering wheel digging into her belly, she was able to reach the pedal. She pressed her foot down hard, half on his foot and half on the pedal itself and heard Dante suck in a quick pained breath behind her.
“Sorry,” she muttered, unable to infuse even the slightest bit of apology into her voice. Poke her in the bottom with his body parts, would he? Hmmph. Take that, horny boy.
“Now grasp the steering wheel,” Dante instructed.
Mary raised her hands and grasped the wheel above his hands, careful to avoid touching him.
“Good,” Dante praised. “Now, all you need do is concentrate on keeping your foot on the pedal and steering straight, I will do all the work.”
“That’s what she said,” Mary heard her husband’s old line in her head and smiled weakly, wishing something fierce that he was there right now. He would be the one sitting in Dante’s lap if he was, or no one would be. Joe had been a brilliant man. He would have come up with a way to handle all of this without so much—
“Who said what?” Dante’s confused question interrupted her thoughts and Mary glanced over her shoulder to see that he looked as confused as he sounded.
“What?” she asked uncertainly.
“You said, ‘That’s what she said,’” he explained. “To whom were you referring? And what did she say?”
Mary’s eyes widened as she realized she’d spoken the words aloud, and then she just shook her head and turned to face forward again. “Never mind. It was nothing. I was just muttering to myself.” Scowling at the stretch of highway ahead, she added, “I thought you were getting up to make your call?”
A moment of silence followed, as if he wanted to question her further, but then he agreed on a small sigh, “Si. Keep the RV going this speed and steering straight. I will be as quick and careful as I can.”
Mary merely nodded and waited. But when his hands released the steering wheel and suddenly dropped to her bottom, she stiffened and jerked the steering wheel again.
“Steady,” Dante admonished. “I am going to lift your bottom and slip out from under you.”
“I can probably—” She’d been about to say she could probably lift her own bottom by standing on the gas pedal, but swallowed the words as he slid his hands under her butt cheeks. It was probably done quickly, but to Mary what followed seemed to take forever as he lifted her up off his lap, his fingers squeezing her butt cheeks with more than necessary familiarity, and then his body seemed to slide forward before sliding sideways under hers, the pokey part rubbing across her bottom toward the right before it was out from under her.
“Steady,” Dante repeated by her ear and Mary shifted her attention back to the steering wheel that had somehow started to turn to the right as well. Straightening it out, she tried to ignore the fact that he seemed really slow about setting her down on the edge of the seat. Letting her breath out on relief, she glanced toward him and cursed. “You—”
“Uno momento,” Dante breathed, interrupting her complaint that he’d lost his afghan and was now completely naked again.