Double Clutch - Реинхардт Лиз (книги полностью бесплатно TXT) 📗

Before I knew it I heard the familiar rumble of Jake’s truck and the crunch of his tires on the gravel of our driveway. My heart raced and I gripped the sink vanity for a few seconds, trying to work up the courage to go out and meet him.

I heard Mom open the door. I heard Jake’s low voice, and I heard her say, “Thank you, Jake. That was so thoughtful of you.”

I crept out of the bathroom like the coward I was, and saw Jake had handed my mom a bunch of flowers. He had on a blue button down that brought out shades of blue in his usually gray eyes. His hair was brushed down and gelled. It seemed like he had worked really hard to get a certain look, but I wasn’t sure I knew what it was. Maybe ‘responsible boy who won’t break your daughter’s heart’?

Thorsten came down the stairs and shook Jake’s hand. I was so relieved Fa was here today. His cool Scandinavian calm tended to offset Mom’s natural crazy neuroticism. Jake stood awkwardly when I came down the hall.

All three of them looked at me at once. Thortsten looked happy and kind, as usual, Mom looked like she was trying really hard not to cry, and Jake smiled so wide it looked like it had to hurt.

It was Jake who moved forward first, then stopped. He seemed to sense my mother’s territorial vibe.

“Wow. You look really pretty, Brenna.” Jake fumbled with one of the buttons on his shirt.

My mom gave him an assessing look. “She does, doesn’t she?”

“You’re going to need to keep away from the track. It’s way too muddy.” Jake looked a little worried.

“Is it dangerous, Jake?” my mother asked.

“No, ma’am, not for Brenna. Sometimes the riders wipe out, but we’re in a gated track.”

“I see you drove.” My mother gave Jake a long, piercing look that I’m pretty sure most interrogators would kill to master. “Have you been driving long?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve worked on a farm since I was about fourteen, and I drove their tractor the first day. After a few months, they let me drive the work trucks too. I never speed,” he added hastily.

“You work on a farm?” Thorsten asked. He grew up on a farm, so he had this agricultural camaraderie thing. “Where do you work?”

“Zinga’s, sir.” He looked at me, just a really quick flick of his eyes, but I could see he was nervous.

“I love their apple tarts!” Thorsten said enthusiastically.

It broke the tension. Everyone laughed.

“Fa loves to eat anything,” I said.

“I should be very fat.” Thorsten motioned in front of his stomach like he was pregnant. “I have to walk everywhere, or I’ll get a big gut.”

Mom laughed and patted his flat stomach. “Well, you kids should get going. Brenna, do you have your cell phone on?”

“Of course.” I took her into my arms and held her very tight. “I love you so much. Thank you.”

“Well, he’s very polite,” she whispered as I held her. “And he certainly is very good looking.” Louder she said, “Wear your seatbelts at all times, no exceptions. Give me a call when you get to your concert and when you get out. I don’t care how late it is.”

We agreed, I kissed her and hugged her again, kissed Fa, and grabbed Jake’s hand. If it was possible, I felt even lighter than I did after I talked to Jake the night before. As Jake opened my door and I climbed into the old truck, I saw the familiar flick of the curtain, and it made my heart glow with toasty warmth.

Jake pulled out very slowly and carefully. He probably overdid it, but I imagined Mom would appreciate his effort to impress her with his caution. “Wow. Your mom is scary.” Jake undid the top button on his shirt and took a deep breath.

“I thought she was nice.” I felt the defensive prickle that I always felt when someone said something not completely complimentary about my mom.

“I didn’t say she wasn’t nice. I said she was scary.” He looked a little pale. “She stared at me the whole time like she was trying to decide if she should punch me in the face or let me go out with you.”

I laughed. “You’re exaggerating. She told me she thinks you’re hot.”

He looked over at me, his eyes dancing. “No way!”

“When she hugged me.” I reached over and tousled his perfectly gelled hair a little.

“Wow.” He shook his head.

“What?”

“Your mom’s like this super scary, super hot professor. I guess I’m just really flattered.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Do you think I’m hot?”

“I do.” I leaned against his shoulder. “Especially in that shirt. I love all those buttons.”

We laughed easily. It was nice to be able to be so comfortable with him. I thought after we slept in the same bed, there might be some kind of residual awkwardness, but there was nothing like that. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and shrugged out of his dress shirt.

“I’m a little nervous about the race,” he admitted.

“Don’t be. You’ll do great,” I said, though, of course, I had no idea at all.

“I don’t usually mind screwing up, but I don’t love the idea of doing it in front of you.” He tapped his hands nervously on the steering wheel. “Just don’t go home with the winner instead of me.” He wanted it to be a joke, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh at it.

“Don’t be insane. Like I’d even be interested in anyone else? Anyway, maybe you’ll win,” I suggested. “I can’t even tell if there’s a real chance that you will. You’re always so pessimistic about yourself, I don’t know if I should believe you.”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” He shifted and drummed on his steering wheel faster, not able to settle down at all.

When we pulled up, there were hundreds of other cars already there. I felt my jaw drop. I guess I had been expecting a couple dozen people and a little dirt track. This was huge. The track was enormous, and there were already really little kids flying around it. Like really little kids; kids who looked small enough to be in kindergarten.

Jake looked over at them and grinned. “I was that age when I won my first race.”

I remembered he had told me he was four when he started riding. “Do you win a lot?”

He laughed and rubbed his neck. “A lot for an amateur.” He reached into his backseat, pulled out a long sleeved, jersey-like motocross shirt, and put it on. He got back in the truck to put on his pants, then boots and knee and elbow pads. When he stood and turned, his helmet tucked under his arm, I felt a little girly thrill. He looked very sporty and tough.