Hard to Resist

by Jean Brashear

  And laid a kiss on her that…that…

  Oh, my. Hailey’s every last thought melted away as Ryder McGraw proved that he was indeed man enough to kiss the socks off her. She didn’t want to respond because he was the most annoying, irritating…

  Ryder tilted his head and slicked his tongue over the seam of her lips, seeking entrance.

  And she couldn’t seem to stop her hands from sliding up those muscled shoulders, her fingers from tunneling into his thick black hair. A thrill ran through her, one of pure appreciation for a man who kissed like a dream. He felt good—more than good—against her, and she nearly purred like a cat as she wriggled closer, seeking…

  Ryder tore himself away. “Damn.”

  Damn? She gasped for breath, and noticed that his very broad chest was heaving, too.

  “I…” He stared at her, as shocked as she was, apparently, by the impact. His jaw clenched, and he backed away. “I have work to do.”

  Is that all you can say? But she gathered her dignity and backed up a step, as well. “Of course. So what’s my first task, boss?” She would stand her ground and not run, even if he was going to. She could, however, have done just fine without discovering that Ryder McGraw was even sexier than he looked.

  “I…I…” For the only time since she’d met him, Ryder seemed at a total loss. He raked one hand through his hair. “Uh, go—hell, I don’t know. Go ask Sue Ellen if she needs help with something.”

  “I’m supposed to be helping you.” A little of the devil seemed to have gotten into her. Beneath her shock, she found herself enjoying his discombobulation. She doubted she’d ever see it again.

  Unless I can make him kiss me again, came the thought unbidden.

  Stop that.

  “Stop what?” he asked.

  Oops. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “Nothing. So…I’ll see what Sue Ellen needs—coward—and then I’ll report back to you.”

  He looked incensed. “I’m not a coward.”

  “And how do you plan to prove that?” she asked with teasing sweetness, unable to believe this vixen was her. “Want to try that kiss again?” Though the mere thought caused a tremor.

  His eyes widened in alarm. “No. Never.”

  Never? We’ll just see about that. But aloud she said, “Then you have one other choice, Mr. Crew Chief.”

  “What’s that?” he asked warily.

  “I’ll be making tofu for lunch tomorrow. And you’ll be eating some.”

  It was all she could do not to laugh out loud at his expression.

  But “Fine” was all he said before he did an about-face and left her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  HE WAS NOT SIXTEEN. He shouldn’t have been reliving one kiss half the night.

  Or the feel of that slim, taut body, sleek and yet soft. Those bee-stung lips he craved just one more taste of, to be sure he hadn’t overstated their impact.

  The team would be leaving for the Glen right after lunch, blast the woman. He didn’t usually even eat lunch on travel day, not until he was on the plane, so he didn’t waste any time.

  But the whole shop was buzzing over Hailey’s challenge. Never mind that he sure hadn’t told anybody.

  I swear I won’t be a distraction. Uh-huh. Yeah, sure. Thanks, Hailey.

  As he walked toward the break room with the dragging stride of a prisoner on a chain gang, Ryder looked around him at the bright eyes and high spirits of everyone in the shop from front office to the loading dock, and realized something startling.

  Yes, he was on display, and he hated that.

  But even employees who normally had little contact with employees from other parts of the organization were talking to each other, joking around, eager and excited.

  Except, of course, Greg, whose face was like a thunder-cloud.

  Ryder refused to engage Greg right now, though, and turned away right about the time the room fell quiet and people drifted back from the table where Hailey presided over a buffet.

  She had on a little sundress that should have been fairly modest, except for the fact that it clung to her body in all the right places, leaving no doubt that this was one fine specimen of femininity.

  He dragged his gaze from the curves that had cost him more than a few hours of sleep last night and looked at her face.

  Her smiling face, alight with challenge.

  Beside her stood Dixon, button-busting proud.

  Traitor.

  Man up, Ryder told himself. You ate worms when you were a kid. This can’t be worse. But he approached the buffet table as though it was a gallows and Hailey held the noose.

  “Hi, Ryder,” she said sweetly. Her blue eyes twinkled, and that mouth…

  Do not look at that mouth. He dropped his gaze to the spread before him.

  She gestured to one steaming batch of vegetables and the dish of rice beside it. “Stir-fry with brown rice,” she said.

  Okay, you eat Chinese. You can do this.

  “And this is barbecued tofu.” She pointed at a second dish. “Plus coconut and tofu curry. Over here is fruit salad. Organic, of course.”

  Barbecued tofu? “Of course,” was all he said, though.

  “And here’s your plate. Want me to dish it up?”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he said, pitched so only the two of them could hear.

  Her grin was huge. “I am. But you’re going to enjoy it, too, I promise.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t be a distraction, either,” he said sourly. Then was sorry when her smile vanished.

  As an apology, he scooped up a large helping of the stir-fry and rice, then a good-sized one of the fruit. He hesitated over the weird golden-brown cubes purported to be tofu, but then defiantly he slapped a heap of them on his plate, along with the curry, and turned to go.

  “You’re not going to taste the food here?” she asked.

  He glanced back at her, gaze narrowed. “I still have work to do.”

  Her face fell. Then she recovered. “Well, okay, if you want to be a—”

  Coward. She didn’t have to say it for both of them to hear it.

  He grabbed a fork and plunged it into the curry. “There! Satisfied?” Then he stifled a yelp. “Damn, this is hot!” Tears sprang to his eyes, and he looked around for a glass of water, but his mouth settled as he chewed, and he cocked his head, surprised. “Good that I like things hot,” he said, staring straight at her with plenty of meaning behind his gaze.

  “So you think it’s good?”

  The vulnerability he saw made him respond honestly. “The consistency is weird, but…yeah. It’s tasty.”

  Applause broke out, and the rush for the table began. Ryder held Hailey’s gaze with his until the crowd swallowed her up. He took a bite of the stir-fry, too, which was, to his great surprise, really good.

  Meat would be better, of course, but tofu wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever tasted.

  Just then a break appeared and he could see her again, so he held up another forkful and showed her that he’d already cleared a third of his plate. He stuck another bite in his mouth, then tapped his forehead in salute.

  Hailey smiled, sweet as an angel this time, and something in Ryder’s heart twisted a little.

  No heart. No distractions. He had a race coming up, and that was all he could afford to focus on now.

  He left the room as quickly as possible.

  But he did clean the whole plate.

  THE TIRE CARRIER, Kyle, gave Hailey a thumbs-up as Ryder called for a pit stop late in the race at Watkins Glen. Hailey bit her lip. So far, the crew had been flawless, and Jeb was third with twenty laps to go. She should have been thrilled that, at a minimum, she hadn’t done any damage to the crew’s fitness, but instead she twisted her fingers in her lap where she sat in the rear of the pit box, staring at Ryder’s broad shoulders.

  He sounded the epitome of calm as he gave instructions and chattered with the driver in a cool, measured voice. Everyone looked to him to set the t
one for the whole team, to keep them on target and efficiently doing their jobs, meshing the efforts of many people to get what all of them were after: a win.

  And now Jeb was close. From what Hailey had learned in the last week, along with noting her father’s white knuckles and Ryder’s rigid back, Jeb still had time to win this—but only if not one thing went wrong.

  Like a pit stop. And she’d been meddling with the crew, the way Greg put it, even though she truly believed in what she was doing.

  Jeb’s car rolled in and a ballet ensued, a beautifully choreographed dance of strong men with reactions timed down to the millisecond. This would be the last stop, and Jeb’s chances hinged on getting out faster than either the first- or second-place cars.

  Hailey listened to the count and gnawed on her lower lip.

  “Yes!” her father shouted, and even Ryder’s tense shoulders eased.

  Eleven point eight seconds.

  And Jeb crossed the exit line of pit road up one spot.

  The guys on the crew who’d been in her class jumped and high-fived each other but settled down quickly at Ryder’s command. The race wasn’t over yet.

  I don’t like that I can’t see the whole track, Hailey thought. Road courses were different, and right now she was so tense that somehow she thought she’d rest a little easier if she could simply stand and look at the backstretch. She clung to her often-interrupted view of the television coverage while wondering how on earth Ryder withstood the pressure, week in and week out, for months on end—all the time, really, she’d begun to realize. A crew chief’s job was never over, even when the season ended.

  You just barged in and took over, hijacking a system that’s not perfect, no, but we’re a new team and we’re killing ourselves trying to get better.

  She hadn’t meant to be a problem, but watching Ryder through a second race helped her see the enormous weight on those very fine shoulders. In that moment, she made a decision that she would cancel all her classes and stay out of his way. She’d come to care for all these people, and though she still believed in the importance of caring for the body and the mind through a discipline that had been her lifesaver, she understood that she was quite likely as rigid as she’d accused Ryder of being.

  A collective gasp rose in the crowd, and Hailey focused again on the race, realizing that Jeb was making a bid for the lead, with a hairy curve up ahead. She jumped up and started to reach for Ryder but instead clasped both hands over her chest.

  When Jeb made the pass just in time, with half a lap to go, and Bart Branch made a charge to grab first place again, her heart was in her throat. Tension whipped through the pit box like an exposed electrical wire.

  But Jeb held the lead, if only by a matter of inches at the checkered line.

  “Yes!” Ryder leaped and punched a fist in the air, a very unusual sight from this self-contained man. He turned to her, green eyes alight even as he was talking over the radio, congratulating his driver, and Hailey sighed over his beautiful smile.

  Then her father was hugging her, and the pit crew guys swarmed the box and swept her down, cheering.

  “Best stops we’ve ever done!” cheered the catch can man.

  “You did it, Hailey! Did we rock or what?” Kyle yelled.

  “I didn’t do it.” But she couldn’t stop grinning. “You all did. You were already in superb condition, just a little…tight.”

  “Well, we’re loose now!” Kyle picked her up and twirled her like she weighed nothing.

  Hailey was pulled from his arms into those of Brandon Granger, who proceeded to lay a jubilant kiss on her. Hailey reeled in shock, but fortunately she was saved from responding by her father’s appearance, back-slapping the sponsor.

  Hailey turned away from the melee, only to spot Ryder staring at her oddly. A little shudder went through her at the sudden seriousness, but she pushed it aside and raced toward him. “Congratulations! That was amazing!”

  But Ryder pulled back from her. “Thanks.” He looked over her head instead. “I have to go to Victory Lane now.” He turned on his heel and departed.

  Leaving Hailey curiously bereft and hollow.

  RYDER CONGRATULATED Jeb, did the hat dance in Victory Lane, granted interviews in the media center. Smiled until he thought his face would break.

  But all the while, he was seething inside.

  Kiss me, then kiss Brandon Granger, will you? I don’t share, Hailey. Do. Not.

  He tried to remind himself that she was the boss’s flaky daughter, the Granola Girl who would return to California. That they could not be more unlike.

  But he kept seeing her eating fried okra and laughing. Taunting him with tofu. And smiling. Moving with a grace that caught his breath.

  And clutching his hair in her fingers as she poured herself into a kiss.

  It was one stupid kiss, that’s all. It should be no big deal. He’d kissed women before. There was no serious woman in his life, but he wasn’t a monk.

  But, damn it, her kiss was different. At least he’d thought it was. Thought she felt it, too. His cell rang as he stalked back toward the hauler. “McGraw.”

  “If that fluff brain is giving herself credit for those pit stop times, you and I know better.”

  Ryder pinched between his eyebrows and sighed. “Hello, Greg.”

  “I’m not sure I like your tone. You’re not buying her garbage, are you?”

  “She’s not claiming credit—but the guys believe in her. And they were the fastest we’ve seen all season.”

  The phone lines went blue from Greg’s curses. “She’s worked with them for two weeks—against my orders, mind you—and I’ve been with them since the beginning. My rep is solid, Ryder. Who are you gonna believe?”

  “Why are you so threatened by her? She’s never done anything to you.”

  “Never done anything?” Greg practically screeched. “She questions every last thing I do. She’s trouble, Ryder, and she doesn’t belong here. She’ll go on her merry way soon and never give the team another thought—unless she’s after Daddy’s money, that is. What, she’s gotten to you? I mean, she is a pretty piece of—”

  “Don’t go there, Greg.”

  As if realizing he’d gone too far, Greg said nothing else.

  “I’ll see you in the shop next week.” Ryder clicked off and continued on his way to the hauler, people giving him wide berth as he walked. He was so lost in thought that he nearly passed it.

  “Hey, boss man, gimme five!” The hauler driver was the only person on the team he hadn’t seen yet, and Ryder pulled himself out of his funk to smile and comply. “Hell of a race, huh?”

  “It was.”

  “Perfect strategy all the way through.”

  “Everyone performed at top speed and skill.”

  “Yeah, but you’re the captain, and don’t you try to skip out of taking credit.” The driver looked past him. “Isn’t that right, Ms. Rogers?”

  Ryder didn’t want to turn around, but he did anyway.

  “Call me Hailey, please. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I forgot my tote bag.”

  “I’ll get it for you. They’re almost packed up.” The driver left them.

  Then they were alone, or as alone as they could be at a race track.

  “Congratulations, Ryder. He’s right. You called a perfect race. Everyone did an amazing job.” Her smile was faint, her eyes nervous.

  “Especially the pit crew?” he asked.

  She drew back as if stung. “I wasn’t going to say that. I mean, yes, they were terrific, but everyone was right on the money, best I could tell.”

  “Greg already called me to be sure you weren’t hogging the credit.”

  She snorted faintly. “Yeah, right.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why he dislikes me so much.”

  “He thinks you’ll blow us all off the second you leave. Or that you’re after Daddy’s money.”

  She took an involuntary step back. “What?” She shook her head. “That’s not why—
” Her gaze darted to his. “Oh, my goodness, do you think my father believes that?”

  She looked so devastated that he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her, Brandon be damned. “I don’t believe it, and I’m sure your father doesn’t, either. That’s just Greg, trying to hurt you.”

  “But—” The tears swimming in her eyes did him in.

  He drew her closer. “You don’t deserve that. And no one else will believe it. Forget Greg.”

  One tear slipped over her lashes, more evidence of the tender heart she didn’t even try to protect. She might be head-strong and hold some oddball beliefs, but one thing Ryder was certain of was that there was not a malicious bone in Hailey’s body.

  “Come on,” he urged her, turning her and wrapping one arm around her shoulders. “Let’s head for the plane as soon as you get your tote bag. And let me take you to dinner when we get home.”

  “It’ll be late by then, and you’ve had a long day.” She glanced up at him gratefully, then straightened and stepped away. “I’m not weak, Ryder, just because I’m peaceable.”

  He took her chin and pressed one soft kiss to her lips. “I never said you were.” His mouth hovered over hers as he fought the temptation to dive in and take more.

  But just then, the driver appeared. “Uh, sorry. Um, here’s your bag.”

  Hailey took it with gracious thanks and scooted off.

  Ryder met his driver’s eyes with a note of warning to keep what he’d seen private. “Thanks. With our schedules, I won’t see you until Michigan. Be safe.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  Ryder picked up speed to catch Hailey.

  Even if the smartest thing he could do would be to run in the opposite direction.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE ENTIRE FLIGHT back to Charlotte, Dixon was revved up about the win and kept Ryder engaged in talking over plans for the future beyond this season, something he would normally have enjoyed immensely.

  If he hadn’t had to watch Brandon Granger sit next to Hailey, monopolizing her every second. The guy didn’t even live in Charlotte, he lived in Raleigh. And he had his own damn plane.