Accelerated Passion

by Lily Harlem

  “Are we going for pancakes again?” Henri asked.

  “No, we’ve got a picnic,” Dean said. “Lots of delicious things for us to eat when we’re on the boat.”

  “A picnic on a boat.” He bounced on the seat, and Heinz yapped several times. “That’s awesomesauce.”

  “Awesomesauce is a new word in his English vocabulary. Expect to hear it lots,” Dean said to Frankie.

  Frankie smiled and looked at the tall pine trees that lined the side of the road. A contented feeling washed over her. When had she last had a day out just for the fun of it? There was always something to do or sleep to catch up on. Plus, having been to all the major cites Grand Prix were held in many times over, the tourist in her had waned.

  “Is that it?” Henri asked, pointing between Dean and Frankie’s heads.

  “Yep, I reckon so,” Dean said.

  “I remember, I remember.” Henri bounced on his seat, and Heinz yapped again. “This is where we came before.”

  “It’s what you wanted to do.” Dean slowed as they entered a near empty car park.

  “Yes, yes…”

  Frankie giggled. Henri’s excitement was contagious.

  Dean threw a smile her way and drew to a halt. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Come on, come on. We need to get a boat.” Henri hurtled through the small gap between the seats. He dumped Heinz on Frankie’s lap and crawled over his father.

  “Hey, little man, slow down.”

  “No, the boats might be all gone. Maybe we won’t get one.”

  “I’m sure we will.” Dean opened the door and allowed Henri to jettison onto the dusty ground. “There seems to be plenty.”

  A row of green and red rowing boats were lined up in the shade, bobbing gently on the deep blue water. Next to them was a small hut, painted yellow. A man sat outside on a deckchair, apparently sleeping, his hat pulled low.

  “You okay with that wriggling thing?” Dean nodded at Heinz who was spinning a circle on Frankie’s lap.

  “Yes, I think so.” She untangled the lead from his legs and held him close to her chest as she opened the door. “I guess we’ll see.”

  As Dean grabbed the picnic from the trunk, Frankie placed Heinz on the ground and watched as he spun a circle several times over.

  “Heinz, Heinz, this way,” Henri said, running around the front of the car.

  “Here you go,” Frankie handed him the lead.

  “Thank you for looking after him, Frankie.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He flashed her a grin then ran off, his heels kicking up little stones behind him and Heinz galloping by his heels.

  “Watch out for cars,” Dean called, glancing around the still and quiet car park.

  Frankie smiled and rested her hand on his arm. “You want me to help carry that?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” He didn’t take his attention from Henri but wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her near.

  They walked toward the hut and the sleeping man.

  Henri had come to a stop just in front of him. Heinz didn’t stop. Instead, the dog ran around Henri, wrapping the lead around Henri’s lower legs. “Heinz, Hör auf damit.”

  The man jumped, and his hat slipped off.

  Frankie giggled.

  “Oh, dear,” Dean said, quickening their pace. “Come on.”

  When they reached the man, he was just replacing his hat. He looked up with a frown.

  “Sorry to disturb you, sir,” Dean said.

  “Ich…” he paused, and widened his eyes. “You are…Cudditch. Dean Cudditch.” He motioned with his hands as though gripping a steering wheel. “Ja, Ja.”

  “Yes.” Dean half shrugged. “Could we hire a boat, please?’

  “Ja, ja, of course, no charge if you autograph.”

  “Happy to autograph,” he said, “but, please, we’ll pay. One boat for the whole day.”

  “But…”

  “I insist.” Dean released Frankie and pulled out his wallet.

  “Twenty Euro,” the man said, patting his chest pocket. He pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper—it looked to be a receipt. He was still staring at Dean. “I am big fan of yours. Big, big fan. You win at Hockenheimring, ja?”

  “I hope so.” Dean handed over a few notes then took the pen and paper.

  “Ich heiẞe Berne.”

  “Berne.” Dean smiled and wrote a quick note using his wallet as a surface.

  “Thank you, thank you,” the man said, beaming as he tucked the paper back into his pocket. He reached inside the hut and pulled out a small orange life jacket. “Kinder, children, must wear.” He nodded at Henri, who was allowing Heinz to sniff the side of the hut. “It is rules.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Dean took the life jacket. “Any boat?”

  “Yes, take your pick. I be here if you need me, anything at all.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I like this one,” Henri said, pointing to the farthest boat on the rickety pier.

  “Do you?” Dean asked. “Why?”

  “It has cushions. It’s awesomesauce.”

  “So it does,” Frankie said. “Nice and comfortable.”

  They walked toward it, and Dean set the heavy picnic bag in the boat. “You need to wear this, buddy,” he said to Henri.

  “What?”

  “This.” He held up the life jacket.

  “Are you wearing one?”

  “No.”

  “Is Frankie?”

  “No.”

  “Well, neither am I. It’s hot.” He folded his arms, and a stubborn expression crossed his face.

  The way he’d pulled his eyebrows low reminded Frankie of the expression Dean had worn that morning in the kitchen when Enrique was trying to persuade her to go out with him.

  “But I can swim,” Dean said, squatting down. “And so can Frankie.”

  “I have lessons.”

  “But the pool you have lessons in is much smaller than the lake. If you fell in there.” He pointed at the wide expanse of rippling water. “You wouldn’t be able to swim to the edge.”

  “I would.” He pressed his lips together.

  “Come on, be a good boy. Put this on.” Dean held out the life jacket.

  “No.”

  “Well, you can’t go then. I promised your mum you’d wear it.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  Dean rubbed his fingertips over his temples and sighed.

  “But what about Heinz?” Frankie said. “Have you thought of him, Henri?”

  “What?” He looked at her suspiciously.

  “Well, if you fall in, and he falls in with you, you’ll have to use your arms to swim. Who will hold Heinz?”

  “He can swim.”

  “But not far. His legs are so tiny. He’d need you to hold him.”

  “Frankie is right,” Dean said.

  “Would Heinz drown?” Henri looked slightly alarmed.

  “He might. Which is why it’s sensible to wear the jacket.” Frankie nodded seriously.

  “Mmm…” Henri looked at Heinz. “Okay. You hold him while I put it on.” He thrust the lead toward Frankie.

  She took it.

  Dean flashed her a grateful look then slipped the jacket onto Henri’s little torso.

  Half an hour later they were in the middle of the deserted lake, bobbing by a small island inhabited by mallard ducks.

  Henri had forgotten about having a life jacket on and was happily throwing bread for the ducks. Heinz barked at them over the side of the boat but showed no intention of actually going into the water.

  “Phew, I’m tired now,” Dean said, resting on a cushion and stretching his arms over his head.

  “You want me to row back?” Frankie asked, flexing her biceps.

  He chuckled. “I think I’ll have the strength, especially if Henri helps again.”

  “I’ll help, I’ll help.” Henri chomped on a bit of the bread h
e was feeding to the ducks.

  “Are you hungry, Henri?” Frankie asked.

  “No.”

  She laughed. He clearly was. “I am, and I think your daddy is, too.” She reached into the picnic basket.

  Dean raised his eyebrows at her. “I’m always hungry.” He let his gaze drift down her body.

  A flush went over her. His approving look, laced with desire, sent a shiver of arousal up her spine. She thought of last night, of holding his cock, teasing him, touching him so intimately. The way he’d groaned, struggled to maintain control, became lost in the moment…lost in her.

  Her cheeks heated, and she glanced away.

  He laughed and reached for her hand, swept his lips over her knuckles. “But I’ll settle for eggs and pie for now.”

  “I want sausages,” Henri said, scrambling to the bag. “Can I?”

  “Please,” Dean said.

  “Please can I have sausages?”

  Frankie pulled out several packets and set them on the bench at her side. Some were still warm and smelled delicious. “Here.” She passed a bag of sausages to Henri. “Don’t feed them all to Heinz. They’ve got to fill your tummy, too.”

  “I know. Thank you.” He grinned then retreated to the bow of the boat, Heinz scrambling beside him.

  Dean stretched forward. “Is this a steak pie?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  He took it then settled back, crossed his ankles, and sighed. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “It’s idyllic.” She popped the lid on a pot of shrimps in creamy sauce.

  “Yes, it is. I could get used to this.”

  “What, life in the slow lane?” She gestured at the flat lake. “All this silence.”

  “It’s never going to be silent with Heinz around.” He laughed. “No, just this, us here, doing nothing, nowhere to be. It’s a nice change.”

  “You’d soon be bored.” She handed him a can of cola. “And wish you were tearing through life at break-neck speed again.”

  “That’s just it…” He tipped his head. “That’s all I’ve ever done. Lately, I guess since…” He gestured at Henri. “We’ve spent more regular time together, I appreciate sitting back and looking around.”

  “Well, you’ve picked a nice spot. This place is stunning. The trees, the water, the blue sky.”

  “Yeah, it is stunning.” He leaned forward and curled his hand around the back of her neck. “But I’m not talking about the vista.” He set his lips on hers.

  It was a soft, gentle kiss, and she fluttered her eyes closed and relished the moment.

  She heard a snicker.

  Dean pulled back and glanced over her shoulder. “What?” he said, grinning at Henri.

  “You kissed Frankie.” Henri sounded like he was muffling louder giggles behind his hand.

  “Yeah, I like doing that.” He kissed her again, a little harder. When he pulled back, he whispered onto her lips. “Amongst other things.”

  The sun stayed strong all day. Frankie fussed with applying sun protection on everyone. Henri fussed about getting Heinz some water from the lake to drink because he didn’t like cola.

  After circling the island several times, they pulled up on a small sandy inlet on the opposite side from the pier. Henri wanted to go searching for treasure and was sure Heinz would be good at sniffing it out.

  Frankie was content to stay on the small boat and let it rock her into a dozing state. She shut her eyes and listened as Henri chatted excitedly to Dean about shiny stones that looked like diamonds and footprints that could have been left by crocodiles.

  Dean was so good with his son and clearly enjoyed every moment spent with him. It made her heart swell with admiration for how he’d worked it out with Bridget and with his career. He’d managed to forge a lovely relationship with a child he could have walked away from. A child that hadn’t been planned but was obviously now very much wanted and very loved.

  And what was not to love about Henri? He was an adorable kid. Full of beans and inquisitiveness, keen to do the right thing, and with a sense of adventure just like his father’s.

  Eventually, they climbed back on the boat, their weight rocking it and bringing Frankie from her lazy state.

  “Hey, sleepy head,” Dean said. “I thought you were rowing us back.”

  “Yeah, right.” She sat and stretched her arms over her head.

  “I got you this.” Henri thrust something long and brown at her. It was dripping at the end.

  “Mmm, nice. Thank you.”

  “It’s a lake lollipop. Delicious.”

  It was a stick with swirl of green weed wrapped around the end.

  “Eat it,” Henri said, his eyes wide.

  Frankie pretended to take a lick. “Mmm, yummy.”

  Henri giggled. “I know.” He then cupped his hand around his mouth and leaned close. “Don’t really eat it, though. Daddy said it will give us a tummy ache.”

  “Okay, I won’t.” She nodded seriously.

  Dean picked up the oars. “Hold on to Heinz.”

  “I will.” Henri reached for his dog and hugged him close. He sat next to Frankie and pressed his little body to hers. “I’m tired.”

  “Me, too.” Frankie ran her hand over his hair. It was short and smooth like Dean’s. “But we’re going back now. Soon you’ll be home.”

  “But I’ve had a nice day. Mama says I get extra tired when I’ve had a nice day.”

  “I think that’s true for us all.” She smiled at Dean as she wrapped her arm around Henri so he could relax back and rest. “I’m tired, too.”

  When they dropped Henri off at home, Frankie once again stayed in the car.

  Dean spoke to Bridget on the doorstep for a moment.

  She wondered if he ever got invited in.

  “Well, that was a success, don’t you think?” he said as he dropped back into the Porsche.

  “Yes, for sure, and it was really special to meet Henri. He’s great.”

  “You think?” He grinned at her as he buckled up. It was obvious he thought Henri was the best child to have ever been born.

  “Yes, one hundred percent. And so like you.”

  “Well…” He shrugged. “I like to think so, but…”

  “Oh, he is. His features, mannerisms, sense of adventure.”

  He started the car then revved the engine several times over. “Talking of adventures.”

  “Don’t you dare wheel spin out of this quiet cul-de-sac.”

  He laughed. “No, not that. But I do have an idea.” A wicked glint crossed over his eyes.

  “Oh, do you now?” A thrill went through her. What did this sexy man have in mind for the rest of their day together?

  “Have you got your keys in your purse?”

  “Which keys?”

  “The ones for the workshop, at the track.”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  “No buts. That’s all I needed to know.”

  “I thought I was on a day off.”

  “Oh, you are, you most definitely are.”

  He pulled away calmly, but there was nothing calm about Frankie. She fidgeted on the seat. She’d felt relaxed after their lovely day in the sun doing nothing except enjoying being together and with Henri.

  But now…

  What on earth was going through that head of his?

  The heat of the day had gone by the time they reached the track, but Frankie still felt hot. The lingering caress of the sun had warmed the skin on her shoulders and heated her cheeks. As they’d parked and headed through security, she’d only gotten hotter.

  Dean rested his hand at the small of her back as they climbed the steps over the pedestrian bridge leading to the central, staff-only part of the track. It was quiet, hardly anyone about, and the shadows were lengthening.

  But even so, the smell of fuel and hot tarmac lingered in the air. There was always a buzz of anticipation around the workshops even when the drivers and mechanics weren’t there.

 
; Frankie loved it. She loved everything about it.

  Right now, she was also in danger of falling in love with the man only a pace behind her.

  “Why are we here?” she asked again.

  “You’ll have to wait and see.” He slipped his hand from her back to her ass and gave it a cheeky squeeze.

  “Dean.” She quickened her pace up the steps.

  “There’s no one here to see me groping my hot lead mechanic.”

  She giggled. “Maybe I don’t want to be groped.”

  “But I know you do.” He caught up with her as they crossed the bridge.

  Frankie stopped and rested her hand on the rail. She pointed into the distance. “This track is evil.”

  “I know.” He came to a halt and followed her line of sight.

  “You have to be careful. That S bend there especially.”

  “I know.” He huffed, but there was amusement in the sound. “I’ve done it before, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “Yes, but…still, you have to be careful.” How many times had she seen drivers do this circuit, Dean Cudditch included? Many more than she could count. But something felt different now. Dean was…well, he was special, more special to her than the other drivers.

  She knew the scent of his skin, the taste of him, the feel of him inside her. A shiver trickled over her shoulders, and she couldn’t hold in the tremble. What if something happened to him? How would she cope?

  “Hey,” he said, nudging his shoulder against hers. “It’s my job, and I’m really fucking good at it.”

  “I know.” She turned to him and forced a smile.

  “And I’ve got the best team on the planet backing me up.”

  Frankie nodded. “Yes.”

  “So nothing has changed. I’ll qualify tomorrow, pole position is my plan, and then whoop everyone’s ass on race day.”

  She blew out a breath. “Good plan. Whoop those asses.”

  “But right now.” He leaned a little closer. “I have other plans for the car.”

  “You do?”

  “Yep, so come on.” He turned and began to stride away.

  Frankie hurried after him.

  As they headed to McLaren’s dedicated area, she could see light coming from beneath the doors of a couple of pit workshops. A few last minute issues no doubt being dealt with by weary mechanics.