by TL Mayhew
When he does finally come in, we all rush over to the car, but Robert is the one in his face almost as soon as he slides out of the window.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” He raises and waves his hands. “We have rules… No, actually… you put rules in place for the safety of the drivers. Communication must always remain on. Do you think they don’t apply to you?”
“Let it go, Robert,” Kye growls.
I’ve got the air wrench out, checking that the lugs are tight after his laps, but only running it when there’s a break in their discussion.
“I won’t let this go!” Robert shouts. “Do you think we want to watch you die out there? I know I don’t.”
Kye puffs out his chest. “Watch yourself.”
“Whatever, man. I need a break,” Robert says, throwing a hand towel he uses to check engine oil off to the side.
I finish up checking the last lug and I’m putting the wrench away when I feel him behind me. He leans in closer, pressing his body against my back and wrapping his arms around me. His lips find my neck and I tilt my head back, relishing in the tingle it sends all over my body.
“Did you have a problem with me calling you sweetheart in front of everyone?” he mutters against my skin.
“Hmmm… no,” I say, then realize why he’s asking. I try to turn around, but he doesn’t let me. “Is that that what made you disconnect the mic and drive so recklessly out there?”
He turns me around in a flash and grips my arms. “I’m not reckless. I was in full control.”
I think back to my mini panic attack, recognizing in that moment how much he’s gotten under my skin. It’s enough to have me defending Robert at this man’s behavior. “Well, how would we know with the mic off?” I say and his eyes narrow. “Just because we….”
“Almost fucked,” he finishes for me.
I’m taken aback by his harsh tone but don’t let him know it affects me. Instead, I pull out of his grip and lift my chin. “It doesn’t give you the right to be all pissed off about a stupid giggle, especially when you don’t even know what was going on,” I huff out. “I’m not sure why I even bothered being concerned about you and what could’ve happened if… just forget it.”
Intent on getting away from him, I turn to leave, but he catches my arm. “If what…?”
As much as I don’t want to tell him, I feel I should. Maybe it will give him some inclination that others care about him. That I care about him. I let out a long sigh and meet his eyes. “If something would’ve went wrong because of something I’d done on the car.”
I see the realization flash across his face when he finally gets what I’m saying. He wraps me in his arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I really hadn’t even thought of that.”
What he’d done was inconsiderate and dangerous but once I’m encased against his body my concerns wane. Nothing happened and he’s here with me now.
The sound of the guys prepping the car to be loaded up draws my attention back to where we are. And I pull away, intent on helping them, but Kye doesn’t let me go. Not without first placing his lips on mine.
It’s a rated PG kiss, one that tingles my toes and makes my head spin but only ignites a small cinder between my legs. Which is fine by me, because he’s here and not shattered in a million pieces on the track like he could’ve been had I done something wrong.
Chapter 24
I’d driven separately to the track, and as much as I wanted Kye to ride back with me, I’d told him I needed to go home and clean up before heading back to Kingston, where we would be finalizing the plans for the upcoming race.
His knowing smile told me he knew exactly what I meant.
Hell it’s, not like it’s a secret. Everyone on the team had seen us disappear into the building. Even if they don’t know the details, the assumptions are probably there. My cheeks heat at the thought of what they might’ve been thinking.
I’m thankful they hadn’t given me any shit about it, maybe it’s because the boss was there or maybe it’s because they do, as Kye said, have manners.
Had it been my brothers I’d never live it down. Which is why I’m not telling them. I have no reason to.
My thoughts remind me I need to call and check in. Using the voice option in my car, I call Elliot. He answers on the second ring. “Hey, Berk. What’s going on?”
“Checking in. Just got done watching a test drive on the track. Tell Dante he’s got some competition.” I laugh, but the other end of the line goes silent. “El?”
“Competition, huh?” Dante’s irritated tone filters through the line. Fucking speakerphone. “You’ve been on the job what, two weeks, and you’re already an expert in the aspects of racing?”
I let out a long sigh. “I… um… I didn’t mean anything by it.”
He chuckles on the other end. “Damn, Berk, you’re so gullible. I’m just giving you a hard time. Anyway, Kye Kingston ain’t got shit on me, sister. No matter what you saw on the test run.”
While I laugh at his response, I find none of the tricks they play on me humorous. Which is why what I tell him next gives me so much pleasure. “He did a test lap in thirty-five seconds.”
Dante’s grunt has a grin spreading across my face. “Elliot, come get this phone, I have some work to do on the car,” I hear him shout before he comes back on the line. “Even if you’ve gone to the dark side, I still love you.”
By the time I open my mouth to tell him I love him too, there’s a shuffling sound on the other end and Elliot comes back on the line.
“I’m not sure what you said to him, but I haven’t seen him rush out of the house so fast since we were kids and Dad was chasing him with the belt.” He chuckles. “So Kye had a good run?”
“Elliot, it was scary fast. Almost…” I stop just shy of calling Kye reckless, not wanting my brother to think any less of him than he already does. “…never mind. Is Dad there?”
Elliot doesn’t push for an explanation, which isn’t like him. It’s almost as though he’s distracted. “No, he’s not here, I think he said he was headed over to the track and was then going to meet up with some other retired guys for a drink or something. Try his cell, I’m not his answering service, Berk.”
It wasn’t until I mentioned Dad that my brother’s attitude changed. “El, what’s going on?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. You just worry about your new boss and his upcoming race. I’ll take of things here.”
My brother is going through something and he’s not telling me what it is. It’s no secret he and Dad haven’t always seen eye to eye on things, which meant he sometimes got the brunt of Dad’s wrath. I just hope it’s a clash in personalities this time and not something more serious.
“Okay, I’ll give him a call. Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?”
He lets out a sigh. “Thanks, but no.”
“I love you, El. Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything.”
“Love you too, gotta go.” At that he disconnects.
My thoughts roll over so many scenarios for his mood. Maybe they disagree on something with Elliot’s car. Maybe Dad isn’t letting El enter a race. Or maybe it has nothing to do with racing. I could be anything with those two.
I get so lost in thinking about what it could be, I don’t realize until I’m turning down the street to my apartment that I’ve basically just driven close to an hour on autopilot.
Pulling into the garage, I park in my assigned space, and when I step out, I quickly scan the large area.
Ever since the call with Dad and his concerns about the safety of parking garages, and after I’d seen the stranger at the beach, I’ve made a conscious decision to always check my surroundings.
Today, it’s with good reason. Not more than fifteen parking spaces from my assigned space is a similar looking car to the one I’d seen at the beach. And just as there had been that day, someone is sitting in it.
At that time, I’d assumed the beach was a random incident.
Now, I’m beginning to wonder if it wasn’t, nor is it a coincidence they’re here now. Sucking in a breath, I gather some courage and start walking toward the car.
Whoever is in it doesn’t notice me at first, and the closer I get the more my heart pounds in my chest. When I get within two spaces, I can tell the driver is a male, and although he now notices me, I’m not close enough to make out his features.
The headlights come on blinding me. He squeals his tires coming out of the parking space, and I jump back as he narrowly misses me when he passes by, finally exiting the lot.
With a hand on my chest, I lean against a random car and try to calm the rapid beat of my heart. Whoever it was has no regard for me. It’s then I think back to the person in Josh’s office. His name wasn’t the same, but I was sure that’s who I’d seen.
My eyes go wide, and I search the parking garage again. Even though I know he’s gone, paranoia sets in.
Once I’ve taken a moment to catch my breath, I rush over to the security booth but my heart sinks when I find no one is there. Redirecting my path toward the elevator, I breathe a sigh of relief when the bell dings and the doors open to an empty car.
On the ride up to my floor, I pull my phone from my pocket and swipe through my list of contacts. My dad and brothers are too far, and I don’t want to disturb Josh. That leaves Kye.
The only reason Kye’s number is in my phone is from his business card over a year ago. There’s a possibility his number has changed. But I take a chance and tap on his name. After a few rings I get voicemail.
I’ll try him again later.
In a rush, I stumble into my apartment and kick the door closed with my foot. Flipping all four of the deadbolts before I lean against the cool wood and let out a breath.
The entire day has set me on edge. From my time with Kye, to the track, and now this. All I want is to soak in a hot bath and think about nothing.
Once I’ve stepped out of the tub and wrapped my body in a towel, I let out the water and head to my room, skimming through a drawer of undergarments.
The lace set I’d worn today were the only fancy ones I owned and, in fact, they were brand-new. I’d never really had any reason to wear them, and I don’t know why I chose to wear them today, but I couldn’t be happier that I did.
This time I’ll have to settle for one of the less sexy cotton sets I wear daily.
Just as I get a leg in the hole, my phone rings. Hopping around, I manage to get the other one in without breaking my neck and swipe my cell off the bed before it stops ringing.
I poke the answer button without recognizing the number. “Hello?”
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” The voice on the other end asks. It’s Kye’s unmistakable smooth tone.
I glance down at the towel around my body, thinking he won’t know that he interrupted me getting dressed. “Not, really… no.”
“Good then you won’t mind answering your door when I knock,” he states.
So much for my little fib. Then I realize what he’s said. My breath catches in my throat. Fuck. “Um… like you’re coming over?”
There’s a rap of knuckles on my door. “I’m here now. Answer the door, Berkleigh,” he orders.
“Umm… okay. Just a sec.” Turning circles in my room I’m not sure what to do first, answer the door or get dressed.
Well fuck it, he’s touched and seen the most intimate parts of my body, answering the door in a towel is no big deal. People do it all the time.
“I don’t like waiting,” he says in the phone.
“Got it, no waiting,” I repeat his words, flipping each lock on the door. When I swing it open, I’m astonished by the sex appeal radiating off him. From purposely tousled hair to the formfitting jeans and tawny colored T-shirt, he takes my breath away.
Chapter 25
As I stand here leaning against the door, his sexy eyes take in every inch of me.
Starting at my toes, his gaze travels up over my legs, pausing briefly at the hem of the towel where it rests against my upper thighs, before he raises his eyes to my breasts. I’m thankful the terry cloth material is thick enough to hide my hardening nipples, but it doesn’t mean he loses interest.
His gaze lingers before he meets my questioning stare.
“Well, are you going to invite me in?” he asks.
I’m curious as to how he got my address but don’t question. In a way, I’m relieved he’s here, no matter my current state of dress. I step aside and usher him in.
He brushes past but doesn’t turn around. “Close the door before your neighbors see you.”
I realize he’s right, plus there’s a slim chance the stranger in the garage could be wandering these very halls. Once it’s closed, I latch all four locks.
This catches his attention and he turns back, glancing at the door raising a brow.
“Better safe than sorry,” I say, standing by the door as he heads into my living space.
I’m unsure what to do next. I mean Kye Kingston is in my apartment. Now that he’s here there are so many things I’d love to say and do to him, but his presence in my personal space has my mind going back to the shy teenage girl from high school.
Nervously I head into my small kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?” I ask, stealing a glance over the half wall, where I find him holding the only picture I have in the modestly furnished space.
It’s a picture on the day I graduated from college. I’m in my cap and gown, next to me is my dad and behind us is my brothers.
“I hate that picture,” I blurt out, now standing only a couple of feet away from him.
“Why? It’s a great family picture,” he says, placing it carefully back on the stand where my TV sits.
When I don’t answer he turns, catching my raised brows, and my fingers still fumbling with the hem of my towel.
Recognizing the significance of that day, he closes the distance between us, taking my hands in his. “Not today, but sooner rather than later I’ll want to know what happened with the professor.”
I pull my hands from his. “Why? What good would that do now? It happened, it’s in the past and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
“Berkleigh…”
I take a step back. “Don’t. I’m not talking about it with you, Kye.”
“We’ll see,” he retorts.
“What are you doing here anyway? As you can see, I need to get ready to head back to Kingston’s, so we can go over the stats from your test run.”
He walks over to the couch and takes a seat, sinking into the cushions while resting an arm on the back. The fact that he looks like he belongs here is both comforting and annoying. “When a number I didn’t recognize appeared on my phone, I looked up the area code and realized it was a Kansas number. I assumed it was you. Was I correct in my assumption?”
I think back to the garage and let out a long sigh. Glancing toward the door to my room and back, I decide any conversation we’re having will be when I’m fully dressed. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to put some clothes on first.”
That fucking smirk.
“I think I do mind. But it’s probably best that you do, otherwise, I may decide the talking can wait.”
Sucking in a breath at his suggestion, I nod then quickly disappear into my room, knowing that if I don’t, I may also come to the same conclusion.
Taking the few steps over to my closet, I begin tossing things out as I search for a shirt that isn’t a tank top or one of my signature plaid work shirts. When I find a plain black T-shirt, I pull it over my head then shimmy into the first pair of shorts I pull out of the drawer.
“What are you doing, stitching the clothes yourself?” he asks, standing in the doorframe, startling me.
Ignoring his question, I run my fingers through the strands of my hair and turn toward the door, about to brush past him when I realize I’d forgotten to put on a bra.
By his persistent stare, I realize he notices to.
&nbs
p; I make another trip to the closet, grabbing a plaid shirt, throw it on, and then head to the door trying to squeeze past him, but he blocks my way with an arm. Lifting my eyes to his I’m met with a hooded stare.
It would be so easy to grab him by the shirt, lead him over to my bed, and have my way with him. And I want to, but I’m curious about what he meant by my call was only partly the reason he’s here, so instead I duck under his arm and head into the living area, taking a seat on the couch.
With a subtle shake of his head he follows, taking his earlier spot on the couch.
Once he’s seated, I offer him a drink again, but he refuses. “Was my call the only reason you’re here?”
He leans forward. “Are you sure you don’t want to just skip the talking?”
“I’m sure.”
“Very well. Just putting the offer out there,” he says, relaxing into the back. “There’s a box of wheel bearings missing from our inventory.”
I sit up straighter, wondering if he’s accusing me of something. “And…”
“They’re defective, Berkleigh.”
“I think I remember overhearing you and Josh talking about it. What does that have to do with me? You don’t think I had something to do with…”
He leans forward, placing a hand on my leg. “Of course not. I was simply curious if you’d seen or heard anything suspicious from any of the guys.” He rubs my bare leg with his fingers, eliciting goosebumps over my skin, but I don’t pull away. “And I couldn’t really ask you in front of them.”
I think back to the stranger I saw at the beach—and in the garage—and wonder if it is the professor, maybe he has something to do with what Kye’s asking. “I haven’t heard anything from the guys but…” I pause, wondering how much I want to disclose. “…I really doubt it’s related.”
“Go on…” he says, leaning in.
Distracted by his proximity, I stand and begin pacing in the living room. Explaining everything I know about the stranger from the beach, including the make and model of the car and the license plate. Then about today’s incident in the parking garage and the way he’d almost ran me over.
