Mothers In A Million. Michelle Douglas

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off the helmet and he wrapped the straps around the handlebars before they walked into the lobby.

      The customer service representative quickly found her file. Missy signed papers. Wyatt signed papers. And within what seemed like seconds they were on the bike again.

      He pulled out onto Main Street and stopped at the intersection. He turned his head and yelled, “What car dealer do you want to go to?”

      “I thought you’d know.”

      “I haven’t been around here for a while.” He revved the bike and smiled at her. His dark eyes shone with devilishness that called to her. “We could just get on the highway and drive until we find something.”

      Part of her wanted to. The kids were cared for. She was in a wonderful, daring mood. And he was so close. So sweet. So full of mischief…

      Mischief with someone she really liked was dangerous to a mother of three who was knee-deep in a fledgling business. She pulled out her phone. “Or I could look up dealers online.”

      “Spoilsport.” He revved the bike. “I like my idea better.” He shot out into the street again. They flew down Main Street and again she had to stifle the urge to put her hands in the air and yell, “Woo hoo!”

      But she stifled it. Because as much fun as this was, she had to get a van and get home to her kids.

      A little voice inside her head disagreed. She didn’t need to get home. Nancy was at the house. The kids were fine. And Missy was out. Out of the house. On her way to buy a van. On her way to having a wonderful future because her business would succeed. She knew it would.

      Then she remembered the look of mischief in Wyatt’s eyes. That was why she needed to get home. She liked him. Really liked him. And he wanted an affair. That was a bad combo. She hit a few buttons on her phone and began looking for a used car dealer.

      Wyatt got them on the highway. The bike’s speed picked up. Wind rushed at her. The sun warmed her arms. She put her face up and inhaled.

      “Find a place yet?”

      When Wyatt’s voice whispered in her ear, she almost flew off the bike. He chuckled. “I turned on the mic.” He showed her the mouthpiece hanging from the phone piece in his ear.

      She said, “Oh.” She shouldn’t have been surprised by the communications equipment. In his real world, Wyatt probably had every gadget known to mankind. After a few flips through the results of her internet search on her phone screen, she said, “There’s a place right off the highway about a mile down the road.”

      “Then that’s where we’ll go.”

       They drove the mile, took the exit ramp and stopped in the parking lot of a car dealer. Shiny new cars, SUVs, trucks and vans greeted them.

      She slid off the bike. “Wow. There are so many cars here.”

      Wyatt smoothed his hand along the fender of a brandnew red truck. “Too bad you need a van.” He whistled as he walked along the back panels. “Look at this thing.”

      She laughed. “You should buy it for yourself.”

      He lovingly caressed some chrome. “I should.” He turned toward the big building behind the rows and rows of vehicles. “I think I’ll just go find a salesman.”

      He came back ten minutes later with a salesman who first told him all the finer points of the brand-new red truck, then turned to her as Wyatt climbed into the truck cab.

      “I hear you need a van.”

      She smiled slightly. “Yes.”

      “Do you know what you want?”

      “Yes. A white one.”

      He laughed. “No. I was talking about engine size, cargo bay versus seating.”

      Wyatt jumped out of the truck. “She wants a V-8, with seats that retract so that she has enough space to deliver goods.”

      “What kind of goods? How much space?”

      “She bakes wedding cakes. The space doesn’t need to be huge. We just need to know that the van can be easily air-conditioned.”

      “Are you sure she doesn’t want to order a refrigerated van?”

      Missy opened her mouth to speak, but Wyatt said, “She’s on a limited budget. She doesn’t need to go overboard.”

       They looked at several vans. Test drove three. In the end, she bought a white van that was used rather than new. She didn’t know anything about refrigerated vans, but it sounded like something she might need in the future. Given that the used van was twelve thousand dollars less than a new one, she wouldn’t be wasting as much if she decided a year or two from now to get the refrigerated van. Exclusively for business. She might even be able to keep the used van for her kids.

      She suddenly felt like a princess—buying what she needed, planning to buy something even better in the future.

      They walked into the office to write up the papers for her van. She called the bank and made arrangements to do a wire transfer of the purchase price, then signed on the dotted line.

      The salesman stapled her papers together and gave her a set. “Okay. Van will be delivered tomorrow morning.”

      He then passed a bunch of papers to Wyatt. “And for the truck.”

      He said, “Thanks,” and signed a few things.

      The salesman handed him the keys. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. McKenzie. You know, if you get tired of the red one, I also have it in blue and yellow.”

      Wyatt laughed.

      It was then that it hit her how rich he was. Sure, she’d always known in an abstract way that he had money. But watching him see something he wanted and buy it without a moment’s hesitation or a single second thought made it real. This guy she liked, someone who was a friend, had more money than she could even imagine.

      They walked out into the bright sunshine. He slid onto the bike. She put the helmet on her head and got on behind him. As he started off, she slid her arms around his waist and squeezed her eyes shut. He was so far out of her league. So different than anybody she knew.

      Sadness made her sigh. Still, she leaned in close to him. Because he couldn’t see her, she let her eyes drift shut, and enjoyed the sensation of just holding him. Because he was tempting. Because she was grateful. Because for once in her life, she really, really wanted somebody, but she was smart enough to know she couldn’t have him.

      And if she didn’t take this chance to hold him, to feel the solidness of him beneath her chest, she might not ever get another.

      When they returned to his gram’s, she removed the helmet. He looped the strap over the handlebars.

      “So? Fun?”

      She refused to let her sadness show and spoil their day. “Oh, man. So much fun. I loved the bike ride, but I loved buying the van even more. I’ve never been able to get what I wanted.

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