A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) by Darynda Jones

“Sorry. I woke up late.”

The girls giggled. “Your dad didn’t wake you?” Auri asked.

“No, he had to leave early.”

They stopped at a jaw-dropping red Ford Raptor.

“You’re driving your dad’s truck?” Auri asked, surprised.

“Yeah. He let me since I was running so late.”

“Then how did he leave early?”

He frowned in thought, then said, “Motorcycle.”

“That’s a nice truck,” Sybil said, gazing in awe at the massive beast.

Auri agreed. “Can he be my dad, too?” she asked him.

“That would make us siblings, so, no.”

The implications of his statement sent a flutter to Auri’s stomach.

He lifted a sinewy arm and opened the passenger’s door for them. They climbed—literally as the truck sat a thousand feet off the ground—into the cab. When Cruz got into the driver’s seat, the truck fitting him like an Italian glove, he made the climb look effortless.

“I think I’m ready to tackle Mount Everest now,” Auri said, teasing him.

He grinned at her and started the engine.

“You only have your permit,” she said as the beast roared to life. “I can’t believe he let you take his truck.”

He grinned again, only this time the charm had fled and another emotion had taken its place. Apprehension? Sadness perhaps? “That’s why I have this.” He took a cap off the dash and pull it low over his brow.

Auri wanted to ask him about the emotion that flashed across his face, but not with an audience. That was a conversation best saved for another time. The display, however, was about the thirtieth she’d sensed in as many days. Last night, as Auri laid in bed dreaming about Cruz, she thought back to when it all started. He and his father had gone on a fishing trip near Chama in northern New Mexico for spring break. She didn’t see him for over a week, and when she did, he seemed distracted.

Maybe he met another girl while on break. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell her. Sure, he said he was kind of in love with her, but … no buts. She was a big girl. She could take it. What she couldn’t take was being strung along, and she’d tell him that as soon as they were alone.

He put the truck into drive and they headed out of the lot before someone caught them skipping.

Both locals and tourists were already out and about, grabbing coffee and shopping with the resident artists. He pointed as they drove past the sheriff’s station. Auri ducked her head. Sybil took a different approach. She undid her seatbelt and nose-dived for the floorboard, her gaze darting about like a cornered animal.

Auri fought yet another giggle, but the events of the next few seconds would teach her not to be so quick to judge. She looked past Cruz just in time to see her mother exiting Caffeine-Wah. The woman in full sheriff regalia stopped and watched as the huge truck drove by.

Cruz shrank back and lifted his shoulder to hide as much of his face as he could, but the movement brought Auri directly into her mother’s line of sight. Their gazes locked for a split second before Auri dove for cover. Straight into Cruz’s lap.

With her face firmly in Cruz’s crotch, Auri asked, “Did she see me?”

“She’s still looking,” Cruz said, his voice suspiciously full of humor. “You’d better stay down there for a while.”

Auri frowned. How long could it take to drive past a coffee shop?

Cruz shook as though laughing.

She raised up. “Cruz De los Santos.”

A pair of dimples appeared on the sides of his full mouth and her ire—fake as it was—evaporated.

“Are you sure Mrs. Fairborn is at the station?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I have it on good authority.”

He cast her a suspicious glance. “What kind of authority?”

“I have an inside man.” Auri did everything but blow on her nails and polish them on her shirt.

“Can I ask who it is?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, Charlie. I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you. Then where would we be?” She looked down at Sybil, who sat hunkered on the floorboard still. “Sweetheart, you can get up now.”

“Oh. Okay.” She scrambled back onto the seat and pushed her glasses up with an index finger.

They pulled onto Mrs. Fairborn’s street, but parked at the end of the block. After a nonchalant walk down a narrow alleyway, they hauled themselves over a wooden fence.

Well, Auri and Sybil did. Cruz walked through the gate and eyed them both like they were crazy. It happened. He also stopped to give Sybil’s outfit a once-over as though just noticing her cat-burglar attire.

Much like Auri had, he suppressed a grin, turned, and strolled to Mrs. Fairborn’s back door like he belonged there.

“See that?” Auri said to Sybil. “We need to act natural. Like we’re supposed to be here.”

“Right.” Sybil, who seemed on the verge of hyperventilating, took a deep breath and nodded. “Act natural. I can do that. I can act natural.”

Auri wanted to laugh, but she was right there with her.

“We’re in,” Cruz said. He’d been kneeling at the back door. He stood and opened it.

“Wow.” Auri stopped, stunned. “You really did it.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?” he asked, his eyes crinkling with humor.