Wish you were mine

44. Beneath the same Roof

PENELOPE

I slid behind the wheel, adjusting the seat with reverence. He gave me a side glance, half amused, half wary.
And with the engine purring to life beneath my fingertips, I felt-if only for a fleeting second-like I was in control.

Sean leaned over and punched something into the GPS, the soft chime of the screen breaking the silence. I barely noticed. My attention was utterly consumed by the interior of the car-luxurious leather seats that hugged me like a second skin, rose gold accents that gleamed even in the dim evening light, and a dashboard so sleek it looked like it belonged on a spaceship. I had to physically stop myself from drooling.

"God," I whispered, running my fingers over the steering wheel like it was made of silk and dreams. "Whoever designed this was either a genius... or possessed."

Sean glanced at me. "Try to remember it's still a car, not a sacred artifact."

"Says the man who nearly cried when someone touched his Aston Martin with greasy fingers."

He ignored me.

With a dramatic breath, I pushed the start button.

The engine purred to life like a sleeping beast stirred from slumber. My heart skipped a beat. This wasn't just a car-it was a weapon wrapped in velvet. And now it was mine. At least for the next forty minutes.

I eased us out of the airport loop, as smooth and careful as if I were handling a newborn baby made of gold. Sean visibly relaxed, probably thinking, Huh, maybe she's not completely insane behind the wheel.

Fool.

The city lights blurred past as we rolled onto the main road. The car glided over the asphalt like a dream. But then we hit the highway.

Wide. Open. Beautifully empty.

My eyes flicked to the speedometer.

Then to Sean.

Then back to the speedometer.

An idea slithered into my mind like a mischievous little devil with a pitchfork.

Payback time.

I pressed my foot harder on the accelerator.

The engine snarled in approval, and we surged forward. I saw Sean stiffen in the seat beside me.

"Uh... Penelope?" he said, his voice just barely keeping calm. "What are you doing?"

"Driving," I said sweetly, keeping my eyes on the road, a serene smile on my face.

"Yeah, no, this feels less like driving and more like attempting to break the sound barrier."

I chuckled. "Oh, come on. The highway's empty. And this car was made to fly."

He reached for the handle above the door. "Penelope, I swear to God-"

"Relax, Sean." I smirked. "Remember? You said you love your life. So just sit back... and fear for it."

The wind howled past us, the lights blurring into long golden streaks. I could practically hear his soul trying to detach from his body.

"This is insane," he muttered, bracing himself against the dashboard. "You're insane."

"And you," I said, with a bright, maniacal grin, "are the idiot who blackmailed an adrenaline junkie into marrying him."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

He groaned. "If we survive this, I'm changing the locks on all my cars."

"only if you survive " I said with a chuckle.