The first time I saw Rain Storm in the pit at the race track, it was love at first sight.

Okay. That’s a lie. It was lust—pure, unadulterated lust. Rain is the kind of woman a guy looks at and thinks, Yeah, I want to hit that. Not that I’m some kind of pervert or anything. I just know how men think. And any guy who says he doesn’t think like that when he looks at a woman like Rain is either lying or gay.

Case closed.

But if I’m being honest, it was her laugh that hooked me. She has a great laugh. Musical. Like notes ascending the scale. It’s just so damn sexy.

It was early in the season, and I was going over the engine of the Jackson brothers’ number 57 when I heard her laugh. At first, I thought somebody had brought their kid into the pit. When I looked up, my heart did one of those things like at the carnival—you know, the strongman’s game? You hit the base with a mallet, and the little puck flies up the tower and hits a bell at the top, then drops back down again. That’s exactly what it felt like.

She was tall, with these tight jean cut-offs, a low-cut top, and a pair of black cowboy boots. She was soft in all the right places and hard and firm where it mattered. Her hair was that white blond you know has to be bleached, and it was scraped back into a ponytail and looped through the back of a baseball cap. I couldn’t see her eyes—she was wearing huge, dark sunglasses—but she was beautiful, and she had this wide, pouty mouth that just about made me want to cry.

If I were enough of a Neanderthal to believe in such a thing as a woman who was asking for it, I would’ve said there she was, standing right in front of me.

Truth was, all she would’ve had to do was crook her little finger, and I’d have dropped my torque wrench right there to follow her wherever she wanted me to go—on my hands and knees, if she’d asked.

Too bad she was hanging off the arm of some other guy.

No one bothered to introduce us, so after she and her friend left, I asked Wally about her. He smiled, and I was pretty sure I could read his mind too.

“That’s Rain,” he said. “Rain Storm.”

I laughed. “What is she? A stripper?”

He shook his head. “No, but she could be.”

“I’ll say.” I was having a hard time watching the sway of her hips as she walked away.

“I think her parents were either trying to be cute, or they were hippies. Can’t really remember. Her mom owns a luncheonette near the industrial park. She works there during the day and then at Blondie’s a couple nights a week.”

“Is that a strip club?”

He clapped me on the shoulder and laughed. “I think somebody needs to get laid. Naw, it’s just a neighborhood bar. Used to be more of a shot and beer joint, but since Rain started working there, it kept getting busier, as you can imagine. Now it’s quite a popular little hot spot. She tends bar.”

Familiarity tugged at me, and if she was the girl I remembered from the sandwich place—the one who’d made those awesome cupcakes—this clown was all wrong for her.

Rain and her friend disappeared into the crowd. Heads turned as she passed.

“What’s his story? He doesn’t look like the kind of guy you usually see in the pits.”

“Who, Preston?”

I snorted. “Preston?” He even had a clown name.

“Hey, don’t diss my man. That’s his name painted across the side panel.”

I’d been working on the car since the beginning of the season, but I’d never paid any attention to whose name was painted where. I leaned back to read the side of the car: Jamison Architectural Associates Inc.

“He’s an architect?”

“I guess,” he shrugged. “All I know is that he’s loaded. I just thanked him for the check and told Moose where to paint his name and how big to make the letters. I don’t know that anyone who sees it around here will ever need an architect, but if he wants to put up some green for the show, who am I to judge? Personally, I think Rain put him up to it.” His smile slipped a little. “She’s a good girl, a real sweetheart—a heart as big as those tits. I’ve known her for a long time. She and my wife have been best friends since they were in diapers. Let’s just say she hasn’t had it easy. And with Preston, I think she’s just looking to get hurt again.”

“Why’s that?”

“Diane says he’s got a longtime on-again, off-again girlfriend. It’s supposed to be over, but Diane thinks he’s just shining Rain on.”

I was stunned. “Seriously? Gotta wonder what she must look like.”

“I saw her once. She couldn’t hold a candle to Rain. Actually kind of mousy-looking.”

“Next to her, I imagine most women would look kind of mousy.”

“Maybe—but then again, I’m married to a redheaded spitfire, so I’m good.”

Right. Wally’s wedding. I’d taken Jennifer. Trying not to look as if I’d just been kicked in the nuts, I flipped my wrench in the air and caught it.

“Yeah, you’re a lucky man.”

I could no longer see Rain, but still I stared off in the direction she had headed.

“So, Blondie’s, huh?”

Wally nodded. “Why? You suddenly a little thirsty?”

“Man. You have no idea.”