Free Ink Spots by Lissa Matthews

shower went further toward waking him up fully, and by the time he got out, he was hoping she was awake, but one look out the door… She hadn’t moved a muscle.
    He needed a change of clothes and to throw the towels in the wash. There were more than enough towels at the shop, and the load he had in his car wouldn’t be needed for another couple of days, but he was also a bit anal, which usually drove everyone around him nuts. Why wait until the last minute when it could be done now?
    He got that part from his foster parents and part from jail. When either one said jump, they meant right then, not when he felt like it.
    His jeans and t-shirt on, he hunted down his shoes in the mess of clothes at the foot of the bed. He didn’t bother putting them on, just grabbed them up and went in search of a piece of paper and a pen. In a basket by the fridge, he found both. Jotting a note to Mandi, he made sure to tell her he’d be back after he ran home and then to Katz to pick up her car. It’d been sitting there all night and he didn’t want to leave it the rest of the day.
    He checked on her one more time to see if she was still sleeping, and sure enough, she was. Her face was pillowed under her hand, and that little snore curled warm and deep in the pit of his stomach. Unable to resist, he walked over and kissed her softly on her temple, brushed back her hair and simply stared at her. One night with her had flipped him inside out and he had to have more…
    60

    Ink Spots
    He grabbed the keys he’d seen her hang on the little hook by the door this morning and made a quick exit of her little house before he decided to strip and climb on top of her. The inside of the car smelled like her, like sex, like her sex, and his cock protested leaving the warm and very willing woman alone. The sooner he left, the sooner he’d be back.
    Backing out of her drive, his first stop was his own place. It took less than ten minutes to get there, and not much more to change into some other clothes and brush his teeth, shave. On his way back out, he grabbed his bag of drumsticks from the spare room. He would need them later.
    Next stop was the shop. He needed to check in and remind them he wouldn’t be working today. He might own the place, but usually when the door was unlocked, he was there. Not today. Once he was sure everything was going well and that he’d not left anything out or unattended or disturbed when he and Mandi left earlier in the morning, he told his people he’d see them on Monday.
    His last stop before heading back to Mandi’s was Katz. He’d asked Dallon to meet him there to pick up Mandi’s car and drive his back. Dallon’s place wasn’t too far from Katz and he had agreed to help out.
    When Jaz pulled into the employee parking area, only two vehicles were sitting there. One was Dallon’s truck, which no one could mistake around town with its flames of hell painted all over the tailgate. The other one though… “Shit.”
    “What’s wrong?” Dallon asked, coming up beside him.
    “She didn’t say she drove a classic too.”
    “It’s pretty.”
    Mandi’s classic was a Ford Torino, ’69 or ’70, maybe even ’71. Man, he hadn’t seen one in such pristine condition in years. Her brothers must have done the work. If so, they’d done an amazing job. Light blue that it was almost white body with a midnight blue roof.
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    Lissa Matthews
    He pulled the keys he’d picked up from his pocket and unlocked the car. The unblemished interior was dark blue with wood accents, and the newest thing in the vintage car was the stereo system, though it appeared they’d found a faceplate that fit in with the rest of the retro dash.
    He reached in to slide the seat back and then got behind the wheel. Damn. He was tempted to pop the hood to take a look under it, but he’d do that later. At the moment, he was more tempted to get back to the owner of the car.
    “You sure you don’t want me to drive her car back to her