by Hazel Parker
“I don’t mind that you tinker with cars,” he teased.
“Don’t worry; you’re out of the list of people that I want to impress,” I teased back.
Scott threw back his head and laughed. He had such a pleasant laugh, low and guttural, sliding down your bones like fine wine. Charm in spades, indeed. I wondered how many women fell for that, and then realized that based on his media pictures alone, it was a lot.
“Ouch,” he replied.
“Uh-huh.”
“Who are you trying to impress, then?”
I shot him a look. “Not telling you. It’s a deep, dark secret of mine.”
“Ooh. I love secrets.”
“Sorry. You can stew about it all you want.”
“Hmm. Fine. I won’t ask more. But you mentioned you weren’t sure if he was interested.”
I nodded. “He’s nice to everyone.”
“Ah. The ultimate nice guy. Well, let me give you one great, grand piece of advice, Jules.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do tell.”
“If a guy’s interested, trust me—you’ll know. Immediately.”
“Oh.”
“So turn that heat up and be bolder. There’s no point in holding back and doing the is-he or isn’t-he dance. Guys appreciate a straightforward, sincere woman.”
It was surprisingly sound advice. I nodded in thanks, my thoughts going to Doug. I guess I was going to have to turn up the heat and the flirting. But how?
I was so preoccupied with the how that it took me a while to notice Scott had stood up—and was holding his hand out to me.
“Come on,” he said.
“Where?”
“I want to show you what I like about the night.”
He pulled me towards the edge, and I pulled back stubbornly. Then he looked at me and just stood there, his hand lightly on my wrist, waiting. Just waiting.
He wasn’t going to do anything if I really said no.
I realized that this was his way of showing me I could trust him. He trusted me enough to share intimate details about his life.
I took a deep breath. Then I tugged on our joined hands, indicating he could continue.
He nodded once. Then Scott slowly guided me towards the edge, telling me in a soft voice to keep staring up. I did, right until I felt the bump of the edge barrier hitting my waist. I inhaled a sharp breath, clutching hard on Scott’s arm.
He held me firmly, never letting go. “Look up.”
I did. I watched the darkness and the sky, filled with so many stars that they could have formed a light pattern on their own. It was so beautiful from this height, and I realized how much I’d been missing out.
“It’s wonderful,” I said.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him nod. “Indeed. I like stargazing, too. Makes the mind blessedly blank.”
“Right.”
I was already here. Might as well…I looked down. Saw the ground below, illuminated by more lights.
Suddenly, I was dizzy. I staggered back.
Scott held on to me. “Hey, hey. Easy. Come here.”
Just as slowly as he guided me to the edge, he guided me away from it until we were back in the middle. Scott made me sit down and checked that I was alright, then sat down beside me with a sigh of relief.
“Well, wasn’t that great? Conquering your fear and all?” he asked.
The visible smirk on his face had me laughing. “I’m never doing that again.”
He grinned. “You’re just saying that now. I’m going to introduce you to many more challenges until you’re no longer afraid.”
I groaned. “Please don’t.”
Scott’s blue eyes twinkled. The bastard. He opened his mouth, and I was sure he was going to tease me again.
He snapped his mouth shut. Tilted his head. Listening for…
My eyes widened as I heard it, too—the faint sound of a phone ringing. With a start, I realized it was the one in my pocket. I took it out and checked the caller ID, amazed to find that there was now a signal. I answered immediately.
“Ulysses! We’re trapped in a tower!”
It probably wasn’t the best way to tell the kid your dilemma, and I did my best to backtrack and not stumble all over my words. Scott listened and watched in amusement, and I tried not to glare at him. When I hung up the phone, he finally spoke.
“You certainly couldn’t wait to get out of here.”
“I’m hungry,” I defended.
His brow rose. “After all those snacks?”
“Key word: snack. I want dinner.”
He chuckled. “Well, the reason I was fetching you here was actually to invite you to crew dinner. I bet they’re already done and are at some club or bar to chill out. What do you say we do dinner ourselves, and then catch up to them?”
I shot him a wary look. He held up his hands.
“Friendly dinner,” I said.
He seemed to like that. I guess I was surprised, too. Who’d have thought me and Mr. Hotshot would be friends?
“Friendly dinner,” he promised.
We shook on it. Then I yelped when he pulled me up and made me hold out a hand. Suspicious, I watched his own hand slide inside his pocket, taking something out. Then he dropped it into my palm—
“My necklace!” I exclaimed. I snatched my hand back and stared at it, then at him. “You had it all along?”
“Found it last night. I forgot about it until now.”
I was so happy that I couldn’t help but smile at him. My heart warmed at the sight of the emerald pendant on the silver chain. “Thank you.”
He simply looked at me, his gaze unreadable. Then he smirked. “You’re welcome.” He stepped closer and held out a hand again. “Want to watch the edge again?”
Now that we were going to be rescued, I found myself focusing on our surroundings—and him, noting down his jeans and the plain gray shirt he wore. His muscles were really, really well-defined, and I had a feeling the man worked out outside the track. I felt that same simmering feminine interest when I first saw him, though I knew it was mostly scientific.
I wasn’t attracted to him—not in an I want to bang you kind of way.
But yes, he was hot.
And he had somewhat become a person I could trust.
I took his hand. Then I nodded.
“What the hell? Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SCOTT
She liked Doug.
Holy shit.
It took me almost a week to figure it out, which I had to blame on my preoccupation with practice and helping out Jay in the club. But slowly, the pieces of the puzzle came together as I spent more time observing Julie—and who she interacted with in particular.
I’d eliminated the crew right off because I could see she treated them like brothers, and Henry like an uncle she was fond of. Ulysses seemed to have a crush on her and would do all sorts of things to get her attention, but she was pretty oblivious, and it was hilarious to watch often. But yes, not the crew, so I set my eyes somewhere else.
And that was when I saw Doug, who often visited us to check up on everyone in general. He was one of the few drivers, like me, who liked to chat up the crew. He also liked to chat up the other drivers, unlike me.
He was young—twenty-four, if I remembered correctly. He was nice to everyone and treated the driver veterans with respect, and his Southern charm often showed through.
He talked to Julie and paid attention to what she was saying.
Shit.
If that wasn’t indication enough, then Julie’s expression whenever she was near him was. She practically lit up like a Christmas tree whenever he was around, and it was amusing to watch—at first.
I remembered my advice to her back in the tower, wondering if she would go for it. I was a quiet observer for the next couple of days as she did her best to be accommodating when he was around.
Days turned into weeks, and realization sunk into me why Doug wasn’t biting. While Jul
ie lit up like a Christmas tree at the guy’s presence…she was also very stiff. Polite. Formal. Perky, yes, but it was so forced.
The damn woman didn’t know how to flirt.
She talked about cars. She talked about the crew. She talked about engines. She talked about everything that any guy would talk about with a fellow guy, or a crew member with another crew member. She smiled. She laughed at whatever joke came out of Doug’s mouth, even when it wasn’t funny.
And it was the most awkward thing to watch in the world.
I knew Doug—enough to know there were plenty of girls tossing themselves at him, and he was very selective. He didn’t do driver bunnies, but he also didn’t have a steady girlfriend. He would visit Jay’s from time to time and work that charming routine on gorgeous women he was interested in, right until they were all charmed. Then he’d take them home with his hand on their waists, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what would happen next.
I would have been fine with that, but there was a catch.
Doug also wasn’t very upfront with women who wanted relationships. He loved them and left them, and left some broken hearts in the process.
And Julie wanted to tap that.
I knew the best thing to do was to warn her. But it was none of my business, and I didn’t want her to be all up on my ass now that we were sort of friends. I liked it when she was nice to me.
So I kept quietly observing. Doug would come over and talk, and Julie would be all accommodating and attempt to flirt. A glimmer of interest would enter Doug’s eyes, but it would be gone as soon as it came, and sometimes I’d wonder if I imagined it. Every time, it was the same.
Every time, there was a defeated look on Julie’s face as no progress happened.
She really, really liked the damn guy.
It was sad to watch. It was frustrating, really. Julie was a very pretty girl, and I didn’t know what was up with Doug for not noticing. I mean, I noticed right away, didn’t I? I knew I’d be all over her if she wasn’t Jack’s daughter and wasn’t a pit crew member.
But yeah, she was off limits.
At her last attempt at flirting, I finally had enough. When Doug was gone and she was staring at his back wistfully, I snuck up on her from behind and told her what was on my mind.
“You’re really lousy at this flirting thing.”
She jumped. Then she turned her head to give me an incredulous look. I merely looked back, my expression bland as I challenged her to contradict me or act all innocent again.
Instead, she narrowed her eyes. “You were listening in.”
“I was observing. You’re so obvious.”
“You told me to be obvious,” she pointed out.
“Not that kind of obvious. Jesus. Jules, do you realize you have an oil smudge on your nose, and all you talk about is cars? No guy is going to want that.”
She stared at me for a long time, both her eyebrows shooting up now. I knew it wasn’t the right thing to say, so I backtracked. “I can help give you flirting tips.”
Silence.
Then she glared. “No, thanks. I’m good.” Then she stalked off without another word.
I stared at her pretty butt and wondered again why Doug wasn’t seeing this…fiery little specimen.
He was an idiot.
*****
More days, and the same type of scenario played. I resisted talking to her about it again.
But just as the week was about to come to a close, it was Julie who approached me, her back stiff and a stubborn expression on her face.
“Fine.”
I raised a brow. “Fine, what?”
“Give me those flirting tips.”
Ah.
I had been kidding. But she looked serious, and I didn’t want to offend her.
I tilted my head. “In exchange for what?”
“No sexual favors.”
I laughed my heart off at that one. Jesus, she was a piece of work. Then I grinned down at her, waiting until she reluctantly smiled back.
“Fine. You weren’t going to ask that,” she admitted grudgingly. She thought it over. “What do you want in exchange, then?”
I honestly didn’t know. So I said the first thing that came to mind. “I just want that puppy-dog look to leave your eyes. It’s driving me insane.”
Julie’s eyes widened. I braced myself for the attacked. Instead, she sighed.
Then she held out her hands. “Fine. Deal?”
I looked at her hand, remembering how soft and tiny it felt when we held hands in the tower. And how good. It seemed like a long time ago.
Off. Limits.
With a smile, I shook her hand and sealed the deal.
“Deal.”
CHAPTER NINE
JULIE
“Wait. So Scott tried to seduce you before?”
The way Mallory voiced it out, I might have just said I won the lottery or something. There was so much awe in her tone, and she looked at me like I was the luckiest girl on the planet.
I nodded reluctantly.
“And you rejected him?”
Now she looked like she couldn’t understand the concept of anyone rejecting Scott at all. I nodded. Was this how Scott thought of things, too? That he himself couldn’t comprehend being rejected?
“And…now you’re friends?”
This was a repeated conversation, and Mallory had been badgering me for a good hour now as I got dressed and ready. Scott had said—no, ordered—for me to free up my Saturday so that he could pick me up. And no, it wasn’t a date.
He was going to give me his help today.
Mallory kept talking. I tuned her out and stared at my closet, eyeing my clothes. It was dominated by a large amount of flannel shirts in all sorts of colors, as well as denim pants and shorts. I had a number of sneakers at the bottom of the closet, as well as one measly pair of high heels.
“I forgot to return your heels,” I said to Mallory, who was sitting on my bed and watching me raptly. I nodded in thanks and tossed them on the bed beside her.
Mallory frowned. “But what about your date today?”
“It’s not a date.”
“You could totally make it a date.”
I shot her a look, getting a white tank top and denim jeans. Then I began to slide the pants on as I stood in front of her. “I don’t want to make it a date. I’m going out with him for purely business reasons. He’s helping me out with a guy I like.”
“Why would he help you out?”
That was a question that bothered me, too, but I didn’t dwell on it much. Maybe he wasn’t kidding about the puppy-dog look and how it was driving him insane, and he genuinely just wanted to help. I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
A flash of Doug’s face entered my mind, and a surge of excitement followed. It was embarrassing how much I was starting to like the guy more and more, but I couldn’t help it. His personality was perfect—or at least, that was how the media painted it.
I’d have to ask Scott about the truth regarding that.
I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, and then told Mallory not to wait up for me. I knew Mike was out of town but would be back this afternoon and they would be preoccupied.
It was great to know they’d worked it out. Mallory had decided to confess what she’d done, and he’d been mad at first. But I guess he really did love her because he agreed to give it another chance and what had started with tears and yelling ended up with lots of sex.
I should know. I was barely able to sleep for their first week of makeup sex. They were so loud and so…passionate.
Thankfully, I wasn’t going to be around for any repeat performance today.
There was a beep outside, and Mallory squeaked. I shot her a look, and she nodded. We’d already agreed that she wouldn’t come out with me because that it could be embarrassing if Scott recognized her. I snatched a blue flannel shirt out of the closet and bounded down the stairs, tying it around my waist. I opened the door.
>
Then I stared.
I was expecting a car, but Scott shot my expectations down again as he sat in our driveway…on a Harley motorcycle. It was sleek and beautiful, customized to the same blue color as his car. I studied it as I approached him, amazed at how well taken care of it looked. It wasn’t that old, but it wasn’t new, either.
“Huh,” I commented.
“What?”
“I was expecting some sleek car.”
Scott chuckled. “You don’t think I get tired of cars? I thought this would be a nice change.”
It was, actually. I wasn’t as well-versed with bikes as I was with cars, but I liked them all the same. I turned my attention to Scott, and he looked different, too.
He was wearing jeans, as casual as I was, and a white, short-sleeved, tight T-shirt. The shirt emphasized his lean, muscled torso, as well as the muscles bulging on his arms. He had a leather jacket hanging on the motorcycle, and his eyes were shaded by a pair of sunglasses.
Jesus. Mallory would definitely have freaked.
Scott held out a helmet, and I took it. Then I hopped on behind him, donning the helmet and trying not to think about what anyone would think if they saw us whirl by. It didn’t matter because they probably wouldn’t recognize me.
I definitely had no plans of being named as one of Scott’s many…erm, sexual fans.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he started the engine.
“Somewhere private,” he promised.
Then he was whizzing off. I yelped and managed to clutch his jacket. Scott chuckled, his body vibrating with the sound.
“Hold on to me. I promise I don’t bite. You’ll fall off if you don’t.”
I glared at his back. Then I cautiously slid my hands down from his jacket and banded them around his waist. His chest was like a washboard, and he smelled like aftershave and spice. It was a heady combination, and something even I wasn’t immune to.
I smiled, appreciating the smell. He couldn’t see me, anyway.
Then I held on as he roared faster, until Daytona became a big blur.
*****
He took me to the club.
I was so shocked as he parked at the back, then ushered me in. Then I protested but realized a few seconds later that it was daytime and the club wasn’t even open yet.
