Flashover Pt. 03

"I'm leaving early," Sean called with a wave as he walked past the large window looking into the dispatcher's office.

Claire Montgomery, a petite woman in her middle thirties, waved back at him through the glass. He'd told Maggie happy birthday in passing this morning, but that was all. She didn't know it yet, but they were going to Second Empire, in Raleigh, for dinner. He'd asked around a week or so ago, and everyone agreed that if he wanted to impress her, that was the place to go. He went home, fed his cat, showered and changed. He wanted to cringe at the thought of wearing a coat and tie on a day like today, but this was a special occasion, and he would just have to suck it up and tough it out. He tossed his coat and tie into his car then drove to the self-storage lot where he kept his 1966 Jaguar E-Type. He didn't drive the car often, but this was a special occasion, and he was going to have to get it out in a couple of days anyway for Cars on Main.

Brunswick closed down Main Street five times a year for various events. The Brunswick Stew Festival in February, Craftsmen on Main in April, Cars on Main in late June, Pottery on Main in September and Christmas on Main in November. It was one of Rudy's ideas to draw people into the downtown area on weekends and was generally well received.

Maggie loved his Jag, and she'd encouraged him to enter the car in the event since he was going to be there anyway as part of the security. He could deny her nothing, so he'd agreed. After several tries he finally got the car started and backed it out of the building before pulling his Dodge into its place. He was going to see if Maggie would let him leave the Jag at her place until after Cars on Main and give him a ride to pick up his car after dinner.

His Charger locked up, he spent a few minutes wiping the Jag down with the duster he kept in the boot so the car would look its best. His father bought the car used in the late seventies, and then gave it to him about ten years ago when his parents sold their house and moved to Florida. The original owner and his dad always kept the car garaged and only drove it on nice days, so the car was rust free and had required only a minor refresh to return it to pristine condition. Painted in classic British Racing Green with a camel leather interior and wire wheels, the car was sex on wheels. As he wiped the dust off, he admired its sleek lines. In profile, the sensuous curves of the car reminded him of a beautiful woman lying on her side... of Maggie lying on her side.

Finally ready to go, he tossed the duster back into the boot and spent a few minutes putting the top--or hood as the British called it--up to keep the sun off him. Hood secured, he squeezed into the cockpit and started the car. After starting once, it rumbled to life with ease. Blipping the throttle just to hear the engine bark and snarl, he pulled away with a smile and motored out of the facility. His smile grew when he turned out onto the road and rowed the car through the gears, listening to the 4.2 liter straight six growl. He always forgot how much he enjoyed the car until he got it out and drove it again.

He made a quick stop at KaBloom for a bouquet of roses then wheeled the Jag into Maggie's driveway. She shouldn't be expecting him for at least another hour. He put on his coat and tie, picked up the flowers, and walked to her front door. A quick push of his finger and he heard the chimes of the doorbell.

"Happy birthday," he said, extending the bouquet when she opened the door.

She quickly recovered from her initial surprise and took the flowers. "Thank you so much! You dressed up!" She glanced at the drive. "And you came in the Jag! Wow! I'm impressed."

He stepped in and gave her a light kiss. "We have dinner reservations at eight."

"Where?"

"That's a surprise, but you'll want to dress nice."

"Oh! I need to get a shower! Do I have time to put these in water?"

"We've got plenty of time."

He took his jacket off and settled into his spot on the couch while Maggie bathed. They did have plenty of time, and if she got done early, they could take a meandering route to Raleigh to burn off any extra time.

Forty-five minutes later he heard the tapping of her shoes on the hard wood floor as she came down the hall. He twisted around and froze. She'd worn a dress on their first date, but this was the first time he'd seen her dressed to the nines, and she was stunning. She'd tied her hair up in a complicated looking braid instead of her normal ponytail, and she was wearing a deep red dress that showed off her lush figure perfectly. It stopped just below her knees with a slit that played peek-a-boo with her thigh as she walked. There was a thick band of material that caressed her neck but left her shoulders and arms bare, with an opening below that exposed an alluring amount of cleavage.

"What do you think?" she asked as she cocked her leg with a hand behind her head in a cheesecake pose.

"Wow!"

She grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should! You look gorgeous!"

He stood and her smile grew as she stepped further into the room. "Flattery will get you nowhere... but keep talking," she murmured before giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

He glanced at his phone. "We've still got a little extra time, but we can take the backroads."

"Perfect. Where are we going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

"You can't even tell me the town?"

She'd figure that out as soon as they left Brunswick. "Raleigh."

She smiled and tucked the tiny cream clutch that matched her shoes under her arm. "What are we waiting on then?"

After locking up, he escorted her to the Jag and opened her door. He admired her legs as she folded them up and tucked them into the car before shutting the door and walking around to his side. After he settled behind the wheel, they growled through the countryside, laughing and talking, following Cleveland Road until they turned north on highway 50 for Raleigh.

Sitting at a stop light on the outskirts of Raleigh, Sean started the navigation app on his phone, their destination already selected, and then handed the device to Maggie. "Here, you navigate."

As they worked their way through town, she held the phone so he could hear the directions. "The Second Empire? Oooh," she cooed. "I've never been there but I've always wanted to go."

He smiled as he watched the traffic and signs, but didn't look at her. The Jag was great fun to drive on the open road, but the car was so low that mixing it up in town with minivans, full size trucks, and SUV's required concentration to avoid being run over.

"I see it, on the right," she said as the large converted Victorian mansion appeared. He turned into the parking lot across the street and found a place to park. "Ah, ah," he scolded playfully as she started to open her door. "It's your birthday."

He slid out of the car, trotted around to open her door, and then offered her a hand up. He shut the door but didn't bother to lock it. A semi-sharp knife would be all it took to slice open the canvas top if someone really wanted the car.

He escorted her inside. "McGhee, reservations for eight."

The woman looked at a chart then smiled. "Right this way, please." She led them to a cozy table by a window. "Angela will be with you shortly," the hostess said as he held Maggie's chair.

"I can't thank you enough for bringing me here. You didn't have to do all this," Maggie said as he took his seat.

He shrugged. "I thought I'd take you someplace nice. We haven't gone any place really nice, and I thought it was time, especially since it's your birthday."

She reached across the table and he took her hand. "You're really sweet. You've set the bar pretty high for your birthday."

"You don't--" he began then paused as their waitress arrived. They gave her their drink order. "You don't have to do anything special for my birthday," he resumed once the waitress left.

She smiled. "Okay, we'll see."

They placed their order and then enjoyed a relaxed dinner full of good food, good wine, and good conversation. They started with the citrus grilled shrimp as an appetizer, enjoyed a main course of grilled swordfish and smoked duck breast while trading nibbles from their plates, and then finished by sharing a serving of frozen lemon ginger pie. Considering the quality of the food, service, and wine, Sean thought the price more than fair when he slipped his credit card into the check presenter.

"Thank you so much. This was wonderful," Maggie sighed as she picked up her fork and chased up the last few crumbs from the dessert.

He watched her a moment, liking the way she was looking at him. "I enjoyed it," he replied before taking another sip of the excellent dessert wine.

They lingered, the conversation lulling into comfortable silences. He'd known Maggie for five months, though he'd been dating her for only two, but he was feeling very comfortable around her, comfortable in ways he hadn't felt since before his marriage began to come apart. He wasn't in love with her, but he could feel the first tendrils of attachment forming.

"You ready?" he asked as they finished their wine.

"I guess," she sighed, picking up her clutch. He rose, held her chair, then escorted her outside. "You know, I'm supposed to be depressed that I've turned forty, but this is the best birthday I can remember."

"Aw, shucks, it twernt nothin'," he drawled.

She giggled. "You're not fooling anyone with that accent, Jed Clampett." She pulled him to a stop and smiled at him. "I like you just as you are, even if you do have a funny accent," she said, laying on the North Carolina drawl, before pulling him in for a noisy kiss.

They resumed walking. It was much cooler now that the sun had set. It couldn't be much over eighty. He felt like shaking his head in disbelief that he considered 'not much over eighty' much cooler.

"Can we put the top down?" Maggie asked as they approached the car.

"Sure, if you want."

"I want. Having the top up just doesn't seem right, somehow."

He agreed, but it would have been uncomfortably warm with the hood down earlier. He helped her into the car then quickly stowed and secured the hood before sliding behind the wheel. The Jag was cantankerous about starting after being driven in the heat and then allowed to heat soak. He tried several times to start the car, but it would splutter, cough, struggle to run, then stall. He could smell the gasoline and knew he was about to flood the engine.

He grinned at her. "Did you know ninety-five percent of all English cars are still on the road?" He waited a heartbeat then wound up for the punch line. "The other five percent made it home."

As Maggie laughed he tried again. The car spun over and began to shudder as the engine struggled to run. He worked the throttle, trying to coax the engine to life, but it stalled again. He almost had it that time. He tried one more time. The Jag coughed to life as he feathered the throttle, but then the engine began to clear its throat and roared to life. He blipped the throttle a couple of times to make sure the old girl had gathered her skirt and was ready to run. He looked at her and grinned again. Say what you may about English cars, nobody could ever accuse them of not having personality. It was almost nine-thirty and the traffic had thinned considerably as they worked their way out from downtown. They raced through the city, Sean letting the Jag sing, Maggie smiling and waving at other cars when they looked down on them.

"They're admiring your car," she said as they waited at a light.

He launched the car hard and howled away from the stop. "I think they're admiring the passenger in the car," he said as he banged the car through the gears. He glanced at her and smiled at her blush as she looked down.

They returned to Brunswick the way they'd come, enjoying the rapidly cooling night air. He drove the car hard, down shifting and wailing past slower cars just because he could. He was driving faster than he should, but this was the stuff of dreams, and he was enjoying himself immensely. A fantastic car on the open road with a beautiful woman dressed in red sitting beside him. He watched her when they passed through an area lit with streetlights, her bright eyes and small smile speaking to him.

Too soon they arrived back in Brunswick where he had to set a good example. Everyone knew his car, so they growled slowly through town before popping out on the other side. Fifteen minutes later he was pulling to a stop in her drive.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" he asked after he killed the engine.

She grinned at him. "Babe, after tonight, you can ask me for anything."

He chuckled. "She called me babe," he said in a stage whisper. "Seriously, would you mind if I left the car here until after the Cars on Main? I'd like to clean it up good tomorrow before the show, especially now. It's probably covered in bugs. I'll need you to give me a ride back to the storage building to get my car."

"Sure. Hang on and I'll open the garage."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

She smiled at him. "Why would I mind? You can spend the night tomorrow night and I'll ride in with you when you go."

"Thanks," he said as he opened his door.

He walked around the car, opened her door, and once again gave her a hand up. Her lips were begging to be kissed as she stepped in close and played with his tie.

"When do you want to go get your car?"

"That's up to you."

"In the morning."

"How will I get home?" he asked, his tone playful.

She smiled at him in that mischievous way she had, the one he liked so much, her eyes crinkling. "The only place you're going tonight, mister, is to my room."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," she breathed as she stretched up.

He lowered his lips to hers and took them in a long, slow caress. As their lips parted, he happened to see her leg returning to the ground and chuckled.

"You like the leg pop?" she asked with a teasing grin. "Tell me you liked the leg pop."

He chuckled harder. "I liked the leg pop."

She kissed him again, a quick smooch this time, and patted him on the chest as she stepped back. "Hang on and I'll move my car over and you can put yours in there."

He smirked as he thought about putting something of his in something of hers, but said nothing. After a bit of car shuffling and lawn mower moving, the Jag was secured in the garage. He looked the car over and grimaced. The nose of the car looked like it had a stubble, the carcasses of the dead insects from the drive through the country at night giving it a rough appearance. The windshield was likewise covered in bug splatters. It was going to be hell getting it cleaned up tomorrow before the show.

It was well after ten when he closed the garage and snapped off the light. He walked through the kitchen, loosening his tie as he went. He'd been thinking about peeling Maggie out of that lovely red dress all evening and he didn't intend to waste any time. Besides, they were going to have to get up extra early in the morning to give him time to get his car and still get cleaned up before work.

He stepped into her bedroom and froze. Maggie was lounging on the turned back bed in a black nothingness that was as ethereal as smoke.

"You like?" she asked with a smile and tone that went straight to his manhood.

"Jesus, Maggie," he breathed.

He'd seen her completely nude many times in the last couple of months, but as beautiful as she was then, she'd never been sexier than she was now.

She patted the bed beside her, her eyes calling to him. "I decided I wanted to give you something for my birthday."

He finished undressing, forcing himself to not hurry, unable to take his eyes off her as she casually and seductively caressed the top of one of her breasts. This was a new side to her, a side he hadn't seen before, and she was damn good at it. She'd always had a casual sexiness he found appealing, but she was making him ache for her now.

He slid into the bed beside her. She shifted, snapped off the bedside lamp, and then draped herself over him.

"Now," she whispered, her lips so close to his he could feel her breath. "How should I thank you for such a lovely evening?"

He almost groaned in desire as she kissed him. He pulled her into the kiss, his hand tangling in her hair as their tongues engaged in an intimate dance. She pulled slowly back from the kiss, her smile just visible in the moonlight. He held her gaze a moment before pulling her lips to his. They were getting a late start, and he wasn't going to be worth a shit in the morning, but he didn't care.

Sean cranked hard on the steering wheel, blipping the throttle on the Jag so he could listen to it snarl as he backed it into the spot indicated by one of the men directing traffic. They'd put him in the import section with the Kias, Toyotas, Hondas, and Nissans. Along with his Jag, there were a pair of early sixty something Beetles, a seventy-one Karmann Ghia convertible, if the big taillamps and skinny bumpers could be believed, and a late model Triumph TR6. The rest of the cars in the import section were slammed ricers that looked like Skittles next to the five classics, but at least the organizers had clustered the antiques together.

Maggie was sitting beside him, sporting a red and white scarf over her head to keep her hair from flying everywhere, a yellow top with white pants that had a definite sixties vibe, and tortoiseshell cat-eye sunglasses she'd dug up from somewhere. He'd spent a couple of hours yesterday evening scrubbing bugs off his car and wiping it down with liquid wax, leather protectant, and tire shine while Maggie ran. After dinner, they'd snuggled on the couch while watching Moana on Netflix, sharing a big bowl of popcorn to complete the experience, before retiring to bed.

He helped her out of the car, and then as Maggie looked over the sporty little car parked next to his, he spent a couple of minutes using a detailing spray to clean off the bugs killed on the drive that morning. He didn't care if the Jag won anything, but he did take pride in the car and wanted it to look its best.

"Sean, what's this?" she asked as she waggled a thumb at the deep blue convertible parked next to his Jag.

"It's a Triumph TR6. A seventy-four or a seventy-five, I think. Why?"

She chewed on her lip a moment. "I've seen this car in a movie, except the one in the movie was yellow. What was the name of it?" she asked, clearly talking to herself while staring into the distance. "It had Elliot Gould in it, I think."

He scrubbed at a particularly stubborn bug. "Beats me."

She snapped and pointed a finger at him. "Silent Partner. It was about a bank robbery. Late seventies or early eighties I think. It also had Christopher Plummer in it as the bad guy. Good movie."

Sean snickered as he wiped. "How do you remember all that stuff?"

She grinned. "I don't know, I just do. My head is crammed full of useless movie trivia like that." She pointed to the Karmann Ghia on the other side of his car. "A car like that one was in Sneakers, with Robert Redford and Ben Kingsley, and So I Married an Axe Murderer with Mike Myers, but they were convertibles. Of course, Beetles have been in so many movies I can't list them all, but it's most famous for being Herbie from The Love Bug. 1967 or '68 if I remember right. It starred Dean Jones, Michelle Lee, Buddy Hackett, and David Tomlinson."

His smile widened and he shook his head in amazement as he continued wiping, wondering how many movies she'd seen. She was a walking encyclopedia of movie knowledge. From An American in Paris to Zootopia, and from Star Wars to Casablanca, she seemed to be able to pull a piece of movie trivia out of thin air for almost any situation.