“I’m going to kill you,” I muttered into his neck.
“Not before we’ve christened the bedroom, I hope,” he replied.
Hmm… suddenly, eight hours locked in a steel tube didn’t seem like long enough.
Jared
I held Paisley tightly around the waist as we walked through Montreal airport. All around us, flashbulbs were going off, but I didn’t care. Now everyone knew, we had no need to hide how we felt about each other.
We stopped outside security, and I pulled her into me. “I’m going to miss you so much,” I muttered, my lips against her neck so that some asshole couldn’t lip read. “I’ll call as soon as I land.”
“You better,” she said, squeezing me tightly. “I wish I could come with you.”
I sniggered. “I’ve only just gotten on your dad’s good side. Dragging you away from your job—again—isn’t likely to do me any favors. Plus, you heard Angus. They need the new parts tested before we race in France next weekend. Your place is with the team. I’ll be there on Friday.”
I had offered to carry out the testing, but Jack—stand-up guy that he was—knew how much I missed my family. I guessed that was why we had test drivers, too, otherwise the pressure on the lead drivers would be too much. But just because I had a couple days off didn’t mean the same for Paisley.
“Anyway,” I continued. “It’s not long until the summer break, and then we’ll have two whole weeks together.”
“I know.” She pouted theatrically.
I flicked my forefinger against her bottom lip. “My mom used to say that if the wind changes, you’ll stick like that.”
She laughed. “Easier for you to suck on,” she whispered in my ear.
I groaned. “Don’t.” I pulled her to me once more and kissed her forehead. “Gotta go.”
She stood on the other side of security, waving until she could no longer see me. Heading for my gate, my excitement at spending a few days at home dwindled.
I settled into my seat on the plane, slipped on the airline mask, and closed my eyes.
Six hours later, the plane landed at LAX. I was much more well-known over here—although my anonymity in Europe had started to wane—hence the airport staff escorted me through customs. The odd photographer still managed to get a shot or two, and I heard a lot of shouting about Paisley—which I ignored—but other than that, I reached landside without too much trouble.
As soon as I got to the other side of the terminal building, I spotted my eldest brother, Marin. He’d brought his youngest son, my six-year-old nephew, Charlie, with him who, on seeing me, wrestled his hand from his dad’s grip and sprinted toward me.
“Hey, buddy.” I swung him in the air, then covered his face with kisses. “God, I missed you.”
“I missed you, Uncle Jared,” he said, his pudgy little hands fisting in my shirt.
I shifted him to my hip so I could greet my brother. “It’s great to be home,” I said.
“Everyone is so excited to see you,” he said. “Mom’s been cooking all weekend.”
I groaned. “She knows it’s the middle of the season, right?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “And you think she cares about that?”
I laughed. “No.”
“Well, there you go then. Come on. Car’s in the lot across the street.”
I settled Charlie into his car seat, making sure he had a toy to play with to keep him occupied, then went up front to sit with my brother. He started the ignition then twisted in his seat. “So… Tell me about Paisley then.”
My answering grin formed automatically, as if the mere mention of her name brought on an involuntary smile. I glanced at my watch. “Wow, a record. I make that three and a half minutes.”
Marin chuckled. “I figured I should at least wait until we were in the car.”
“Impressive restraint,” I drawled.
“So, come on. Fess up. The papers over here have been full of the pair of you.”
I suppressed a groan, even though the news didn’t come as a surprise. Me sticking with the same girl for more than five minutes? Yeah, that kind of bulletin would sell papers.
“She’s good for me, Marin. Real good.”
He clapped me on the shoulder, then reversed out of the parking space. “The One?”
I shrugged “All I know is I like being around her. She makes me laugh. She’s fun, dauntless, feisty.” I lowered my voice to prevent Charlie from overhearing. “Sexy as hell.”
Marin laughed. “I can’t wait to meet her when you guys visit in August.”
“I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but I can’t wait for you all to meet her either.”
Marin drove his truck into the driveway at Mom’s. My entire family were already on the front porch. I didn’t even get time to press down on the door latch before they crowded around the car.
The second I climbed out, the kids jumped on me, squealing and grabbing my legs. Adults hugged me so hard I could barely breathe. Mom covered my face with kisses, while Dad stood off to one side, patiently waiting his turn. I wriggled free, allowing Dad a chance to shake my hand. He clapped me hard on the upper arm, then pulled me into a rough, if brief, hug.
“Missed you, son,” he said gruffly.
Dad wasn’t one for huge shows of public affection, but I had never, not even once, doubted the strength of his love for me. We had nothing growing up in terms of possessions, but we were never short on love.
“Missed you, too, Dad.”
“I bought tickets to the game tomorrow night,” he said, winking. “Some father and son bonding time at Dodgers Stadium.”
“Who’re we playing?” I asked. I’d totally lost touch with baseball since being in Europe. It wasn’t a popular sport over there, so none of the channels or newspapers carried it, and I didn’t have time for surfing the net to find out the latest news.
“Giants,” he replied. “Should be a good game. And afterward, we can go for a beer and you can tell me all about this lady of yours.”
“Aha,” I said. “So that’s your ulterior motive.”
Dad winked. “Of course,” he said. “Although by the time your mother has finished grilling you about the poor girl, I’ll probably know everything there is to know long before tomorrow night.”
* * *
I flopped on my bed, exhausted but happy. The Dodgers had won, and I’d spent time with my dad, a feat I rarely managed these days. It had been great, just him and me and a game of baseball.
The only blot on an otherwise idyllic landscape was that I still hadn’t managed to get in touch with Noah. I’d hoped to see him during this flying visit, but every time I’d phoned, it had gone to voicemail. I’d left messages, but he hadn’t returned my calls. Tomorrow, I’d go round his place before he left for work and find out what the hell was going on. It’d be my last chance before my flight to France on Thursday.
I checked my watch. It’d be morning now in France, and with any luck, I’d catch Paisley before work.
I video called her, praying she answered. It rang out forever. I went to hang up when her face swam into view.
“Hey, hotshot.” She blew a kiss at me.
My stomach flipped. It might have only been three days since I’d seen her, touched her, fucked her, but the way my insides yearned, it could have been a year.
“Hey, Pixie Ley. How you doin’?”
She grinned at my nickname for her. “Good. Actually, not good. Actually, I’m doing terrible. I really miss you.”
My throat tightened. “I miss you, too. How’s the car?” I added, a diversionary tactic to detract from the serious turn in the conversation.
She raised her eyes heavenward. “Your one true love is doing mighty fine, Mr. Kane. Dad’s thrilled with the way the new parts are performing, although we have a lot more testing to do the rest of this week and into the weekend.”
“Good stuff. I can’t wait to take her for a ride.”
“Well, before you take her for a ride
, you’re taking me for one. I swear my vagina has sealed up. You’re going to have to wrestle your way in there.”
I covered my mouth with my hand in case my bark of laughter woke the entire house. “I think it might take a little longer than three days’ abstinence, Ley.”
She pouted. “I wish the time would go faster. It’s not the same around here without being able to ogle your tight arse.”
“After a few days of Mom’s cooking, it’s not as tight as it was.”
“Well, not to worry,” she said. “I’ll make you squat to go down on me. That’ll soon get your arse back in shape.”
I chuckled. “You are incorrigible.”
She grinned. “You’d get bored if I was normal. Okay, hotshot, I gotta go before Dad roasts me for being late. See you Friday. Call me tomorrow. Love you.”
She hung up, and I found myself murmuring three words I hadn’t seen coming. “Love you, too.”
After a restless night’s sleep filled with weird dreams where I kept reaching for Paisley but couldn’t grasp her, I got up at seven and, borrowing Dad’s car, drove over to Noah’s place. About halfway there, my cell rang. I glanced at the screen. Roxy. What did she want?
“Hey, Rox,” I said.
At first I couldn’t make out a word through her obvious panic. When she calmed down enough to properly explain, I knew one thing.
I wouldn’t be on the flight to France tomorrow.
Paisley
“Paisley.”
I glanced up, screwdriver in hand, Dad gesturing to me from the back of the garage. I replaced the screwdriver in the toolkit and walked over.
“What’s up?” I said, my fingertips prickling at his grave expression.
“Jared’s just called me. He’s got some sort of family emergency that he needs to deal with. He’s still planning to make it over for qualifying on Saturday, but he reckons he’ll be cutting it fine.”
“What kind of family emergency?” I asked, fear drying my mouth. That did not sound good, especially since when he’d called me this morning, all had been well. Whatever had happened, it had come out of the blue.
Why had Jared called Dad and not me? Then again, Dad was his boss.
Yeah, and I’m his girlfriend.
“He wouldn’t say. When I pressed for details, he refused. All he said was that if it hadn’t been a real emergency, he wouldn’t dream of letting me down.” Dad brushed a hand down my arm. “Sorry, Princess. I know you were really looking forward to seeing him on Friday.”
“It’s okay,” I said glumly, even though it wasn’t. “It’s only a day.”
“That’s the spirit. Right, I need to square Jared missing free practice with the stewards then break the news to Thomas he’ll need to drive the car on Friday instead.”
Thomas was Jared’s test driver, and the guy who’d been trying out the new parts this week. I doubted Thomas would be the slightest bit bothered at Jared’s no-show. In fact, he’d be thrilled, and hope he didn’t make it to France at all. Test drivers lived for the chance to show what they were capable of. There were limited seats in Formula One, which led to fierce competition for a coveted place.
“Good luck, Dad.”
I returned to the car, disappointment bowing my shoulders. And hurt, too. Jared could find the time to call Dad, but not me.
My phone vibrated. I slipped it from my pocket to find a text from Jared.
I’m sure your dad has broken the news by now. So sorry, Ley, but it really can’t be helped. I’ll call as soon as I can.
His text didn’t make me feel any better. Instead, I felt a whole lot worse. I typed a quick reply.
Dad said family emergency. Is everything okay? Can I help?
I stared at the screen waiting for three little dots to appear. After five minutes he replied.
Not really.
I lingered, hoping for more information, but none was forthcoming. With a deep sigh that started in the pit of my stomach, I returned to work.
At the end of the workday, I’d had every intention of going back to my hotel room and wallowing in self-pity while staring at my phone and willing Jared to call or text. Instead, I found myself sitting in a restaurant flanked by Lewis on one side, Devon on the other, Angus and Dad opposite, and a few of the other team members. We had the day off tomorrow which, I had to admit, pleased me because I felt dead on my feet. It had been an exhausting week, but that hard work had paid off on the track. The new parts had improved the downforce and the cornering speed, and Dad was buzzing with expectation for a One:Two this weekend, despite Jared’s absence. If anyone could arrive last minute, jump into a racecar, and fly, it was Jared.
“You’re quiet,” Lewis said. “Worried about Jared?”
“Just tired,” I replied, repressing a wince, because I was worried about Jared and about me. If he didn’t call or text soon, I might lose my mind. “It’s been a long week.”
Lewis gave me a hug, easing me into his side. He kissed the top of my head. “You’re doing great, Paise. Have I told you that?”
“Apart from my fuckup in Monaco, you mean?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, apart from that.”
I slipped my arm around his waist and squeezed. “I’m really going to miss you. It won’t be the same on the circuit without you there.”
He grinned, a sly, secretive grin. And then he leaned closer and whispered, “I’ll still be around, Paise.”
I widened my eyes. “Go on.”
He picked up his bottle of beer and clinked it against my glass of wine. “Let’s just say I may have received an offer I can’t refuse.”
“What offer? Come on, Lewis. Don’t keep me hanging here. You still gonna be racing?”
He shook his head. “Definitely not.”
“Then what?” I asked.
“I’ve got a presenting gig. Apparently, this is a face for TV.” He made a circular motion with his forefinger. “Who knew?”
I repressed a squeal of excitement because he’d told me all this in a very low voice. “I’m so pleased for you. And for me,” I said. “That means I’ll still get to see you all the time.”
He placed a finger over his lips. “Not a word, right, Paise?”
I made a zipping motion across my lips, then threw the imaginary key over my shoulder. “You got it.”
I arrived back at my hotel room after one in the morning, a little squiffy. Okay, that was a lie. I was completely wasted. I face-planted onto my bed and promptly passed out.
The next morning, I woke with a thumping headache, a mouth dry as a bone, and a horrible churning in my stomach. Groaning, I rolled onto my back. The room whirled horribly, so I clamped my eyes shut and waited for it to stop.
With great care, I hauled myself up to a seated position and staggered into the bathroom. Mascara streaked down my cheeks, and my hair stuck out at all angles. There was a red wine stain on my dress that I knew wouldn’t wash out.
After a shower and a good scrub of my teeth, I felt moderately more human. I glanced at my phone. Still nothing from Jared. Fear, worry, and anxiety had morphed into anger, paranoia, and suspicion. Just what was this ‘family emergency’ that meant Jared couldn’t even pick up the bloody phone and call me? A thirty-second conversation to let me know he was okay. Was that too much to ask?
As though he’d heard my grumblings, my phone rang that instant. I snatched it up, fumbled, muttered a curse, then answered it.
“Hey,” I said, my heart hammering with relief. “God, I’ve been so worried. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call yesterday, Ley.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, conveniently ignoring how much it did matter. “What’s going on, Jared? Has someone been hurt, had an accident?”
He paused, his breath hitching. A prickling simmered across my arms, creeping up over the back of my neck.
“It’s complicated, Ley.”
“I’m a bright girl. I’m sure I can follow,” I said, a little more harsh
ly than I’d intended.
He heaved a sigh, the kind that used up lungfuls of air. “We’ll talk when I get there.”
“We won’t have time when you get here.”
“Then we’ll talk after the race on Sunday.” His voice held a finality that I knew he wouldn’t budge from.
“Okay,” I said. “Will you call me when you arrive in France?”
“Of course. Look, I gotta go.”
He hung up, leaving me staring at my phone, still none the wiser as to the cause of his family emergency.
Sitting around moping would only make the time go slower, so I decided a leisurely breakfast in the hotel restaurant would help cure my hangover. I took a seat by the window that overlooked a park and gave my breakfast order to the server. After swallowing enough coffee to sink a ship, two croissants stuffed with ham and cheese, and an apple Danish, I began to feel human again, my irritation with Jared’s lack of information receding along with my hangover.
After breakfast, I went for a walk. The warmth from the sun chased away the despondency caused by Jared’s absence. After an hour strolling around town, I headed back to my hotel. I turned down a side street, a shortcut I’d discovered a couple of years ago. A stand outside a tourist shop caught my attention. Wandering over, I picked up a keyring that had a tiny silver racecar dangling from its circular holder. A perfect gift for Jared. Smiling to myself, I strolled inside to pay. As I waited in line, I glanced around the shop, a typical tourist haven with every inch of space taken up.
I paid for the keyring, slipping it into my jacket pocket. As I turned to leave, my gaze fell on a stand housing French and English newspapers. A picture on the front of an English tabloid drew my eye. My knees buckled, and I put out a hand to steady myself. Awash with horror, and stabbed by the most dreadful pins and needles over my entire body, I shuffled over. With trembling hands, I lifted out the newspaper.
Right there, plastered all over the front page, was a picture of Jared standing on some concrete steps in front of what looked like a hotel. In his arms was Roxy, her face buried in his neck. The cheating bastard wore a warm, loving smile.
Friction: Full Velocity Series - Book 1 Page 17
