The Darkest Link (Second Circle Tattoos) Read Online Free PDF Page B

conversation she’d overheard suggested he was at least going to try. Her mom didn’t have it in her to be the First Lady of Florida, let alone the country. And the thought of becoming the First Daughter, or whatever the hell the title was for a grown-ass woman, made her want to puke.
    She stood up and wandered back into the main garage. It smelled like a mixture of oil and coolant, and she breathed deeply. Somewhere deep inside her mind, her synapses must be firing wrong, because the scent excited her. An old red-and-white gas pump stood up against a brick wall that had been painted white. A giant sign stated MY GARAGE . . . MY RULES.
    “Hopefully I smell as good as I feel,” Kenny said, walking back into the garage. Gone were the biker boots, black denim, and standard-issue polo shirt. Instead, he wore faded jeans that hung low on his hips, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and navy-blue Converse. His hair was messy and pointed straight up at the front, and a silver chunky watch adorned his wrist. He carried himself with the casual sophistication of an old-school Hollywood actor.
    For once, Lia felt travel-weary. Perhaps she should have been the one who’d showered. Or at least changed into that pretty polka-dotted dress in red and white that she had packed away in her luggage.
    “If you smell as good as you look, I am more than happy,” she said, ignoring the ping of her phone that indicated that her father had left another voice mail.
    Kenny walked toward her, coming to a stop at her feet and offering her his hand. She took it, savoring the way his large hand made hers feel small and safe. He didn’t back up, but held his ground right in front of her, leaving very little space between their bodies. And damn . . . he smelled divine.
    “Better?” he asked, running a finger along the curve of her chin.
    “Much,” she breathed.
    Kenny stood for a moment longer and smiled at her before taking her hand and leading her through the garage. “We should get your things, and I need to give you the rest of your keys back,” he said, taking the keys off the key ring and handing them to her. He unlocked her car and pulled out her suitcase and smaller vanity case. Somewhere along the way, women had stopped using them to travel, but Lia loved the ritual of opening up the vanity case to find all her favorite skin care products and beautiful makeup. It was as much a part of who she was as her tattoos.
    Lia smiled as she watched Kenny tuck it under his arm so he could turn off the lights. They wandered back through the customer waiting area, where Kenny set the alarm, and left the garage. Outside, he led them over to a small building with a roller shutter door.
    “Will my car be safe here?” she asked, looking around the neighborhood. It was run-down . . . no, neglected. Large potholes in the road, uneven pavement, tired homes. A group of teens stood on the street corner.
    Kenny waved over to them, and a couple of them raised their hands in return. “I know those kids. They’ll look out for the garage. I employ two of their fathers,” he said confidently. “Want to see
my
baby?” he asked, raising the door.
    Lia gasped when she saw exactly what his baby was. Because first . . . it was black, polished to within an inch of its life. Second . . . it was a convertible. And third . . . it was hot as all hell. “What is this?” she asked, running her hand over the elongated hood.
    “A 1958 Ford Thunderbird. It was a shell when I bought it. Was found in an unused barn with a bunch of other old classics.”
    The wheels were black with white faces, and the soft top was a creamy white. Reflections from the chrome cast light onto the white walls.
    “I love it,” she said, excited to sit inside.
    “Hood up or down?” Kenny asked, slipping her cases into the trunk.
    “Oh, most definitely down,” Lia said. Screw the victory rolls, she could always put her hair into a high ponytail and add the red ribbon