CHAPTER FIVE
JULIE
Being back in the car racing world was a rush in itself, and I hadn’t felt this much excitement in a long time. I’d always been my father’s tag along during his glory days, and I remembered the first time he took me to a race track: all the gathered fans, the loud cheering, the sleek cars, and of course, the drivers who competed against each other for the trophy and the title. It was an eye-opener to an adrenaline rush like I’d never experienced before, and I couldn’t begin to imagine just how much more exciting it was for the drivers.
I was also fascinated by the pit crew and the job they did, and I’d taken to going with my father just to watch them working on their driver’s cars. Soon I was asking questions about functions and fixes, reading up on them as well, until I knew the basics. I was already doing my own fixes on cars and such and was considered an expert with tinkering by the time I was a teenager.
College took me away from the track and kept me busy, but I hadn’t stopped missing it. Dad, however, wanted me to take a course that took me to the corporate or business path, knowing it would secure my future more. Still, the money he gave me was enough to get into one business and see where it went, then spend more time with what I really loved—cars and books, to name a few.
This temporary job as part of a pit crew was practically a gift tossed on my lap, and I’d have been rejoicing with happiness already had it not been for one tiny bump.
Not that Scott could be considered a bump, considering how…big and manly he was; arrogant too. I was used to arrogant men as they came in spades in the racing world. But I hadn’t come across someone like him yet, whose arrogance was riddled with insane charm and the ability to get people to stop being angry at him. It was amazing how it worked on me a few days ago—enough for me to accept his declared truce and actually focus on the work rather than the person I was working for.
Still, I wouldn’t say we were going to be best friends.
Today’s activity was a minor car racing event for charity, one sponsored by a retired driver who was older than my dad. I knew Scott volunteered for these kinds of events, but I hadn’t realized how much his presence would be expected. There were already banners bearing his name on the stands, as well as sponsors shaking his hand on his first five minutes coming on the tracks.
The pit crew was already there by the time I got there, and we all focused on checking and re-checking his car and getting the pit stop needs ready. The youngest crew member, Ulysses, was obviously so in awe of Scott that his accomplishments were all the kid could think about, as well as how lucky he was to be working here. There was mention of the new business Scott co-owned too, and I deduced that it was the club I went to. Smart investment. Most drivers I knew—other than my father—wasted their earnings away, which was just sad.
There were twenty total pit crew members in Scott’s team, and I was the last one. Because I was new, I wasn’t one of the six usually allowed outside the wall. I didn’t mind, so long as I got to work closely with the team during events. The adrenaline rush was still the same.
Ulysses asked about my father, and I did my best to answer what I could without revealing where he was. Dad was very private about his location, particularly this vacation. He didn’t like media taking pictures of him. When conversation went on, I tuned it out and admired Scott’s car, a gorgeous Camaro that had one of the smoothest engines I’d seen. I noted with amusement that it was blue, matching the color of his eyes perfectly.
“I haven’t seen you around.”
The male voice came from behind, sudden and unfamiliar. I turned around and found a blond man with the grayest eyes I’d ever seen studying me curiously. He was tall, broad, and handsome—and he was wearing driver’s attire.
With a start, I suddenly realized who it was.
“I’m new,” I responded to his comment. I studied him back, a flutter starting in my belly at the slow smile that slid up his face. There was a dimple on his right cheek, and it was cute and hot at the same time.
He held out a hand. “My name’s Doug Oliver,” he said warmly. I couldn’t detect any hint of arrogance in his tone when he said the name.
Nervously, willing my hand not to tremble, I accepted the handshake. “Julie Davis.”
He didn’t make the connection, which delighted me all the more. I preferred if people didn’t relate me to my father and only saw me.
We chatted for a while as he asked about me, the interest clear on his face. But it was a polite kind of interest, and I appreciated that he wasn’t coming on to me aggressively. But my mouth was dry, and my palms were sweaty all the same, and I knew why.
I was developing a crush on him. Just like that.
Holy cow.
“I’ll see you around?” he asked, a hint of hope in his tone.
I smiled again shyly, excessively charmed. “Yeah. I’ll see you around. Good luck on the race.”
A few seconds later, another voice popped in.
“That’s Doug Oliver, one of Scott’s toughest competitors.”
Ulysses sidled up beside me, staring at Doug’s retreating back. I did the same, although mine was more the feminine appreciative type. He had a built body that was…sexy.
“I know,” I replied belatedly.
“He was flirting with you,” Ulysses offered.
I shot him a grin, thoroughly amused. “Anything wrong with flirting with the competition?”
“Nothing wrong as long as you keep it healthy,” another voice popped in.
Scott.
My good mood deflated, and the smile disappeared from my face. Caution was back, as was the case whenever he was around. He smiled at me pleasantly, though it wasn’t the same pleasant smile that Doug had given me. No.
Scott’s pleasant smile was the equivalent of the devil smiling at you before he tempted you to sin.
“Are we all good here?” he asked.
I nodded. The crew chief, aka lollipop man, Henry, was directing the others to do the finishing on the rear. “Nearly done.”
“Good.”
Ulysses hurried off to the rear, probably off to impress. The kid was too energetic for his own good.
“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?”
I tilted my head at Scott’s question. “You’re one of the best in the field. I don’t think you need any luck, McCall.”
“Great faith you have in me, Davis.”
“Jules,” I corrected.
Those blue eyes regarded me intensely. “You don’t like it much, do you? Being associated with your father?”
The spot-on analysis jarred me, but I didn’t let it show. Not many people could see it immediately, and it surprised me that he was one of the few who got it right away. I nodded, then shrugged.
He smiled that same devilish smile. The man really was too handsome for his own good, and he was well aware of it.
“Jules it is, then,” he murmured. Then Scott sauntered off to where Henry was.
I sighed and went back to work.
*****
My first encounter with Doug wasn’t my last one as we saw each other in most events and some practices, and he never failed to visit and chat me up. I was starting to feel a certain attraction to him, one that was purely physical, as he began to open up and showed me more of his hidden charm and country boy graciousness—yes, he was from the South. His Southern twang did something to me, and I found myself responding to his manner.
Truth be told, I didn’t interact much with guys during college. I dated some and made out with some, but there had never really been anyone special that I wanted to lose my virginity to. But college had come and gone, and I realized that it was stupid to wait for the right one to come.
Now, I just wanted to get to know someone wonderful and see where it went without having to overanalyze everything. Doug was the perfect guy for that.
Unfortunately, there was a dilemma—sort of.
I wasn’t even sure Doug was into me, not the way that I was into him. At first, his visits thrilled me, until I realized that his pleasantness was directed not just at me but at anyone who joined in on our conversation—Scott included. Doug was just nice to everyone. He was younger than Scott by almost ten years, who was already in his early thirties, and I could see how much he respected the other man.
What I mistook for flirting in the beginning was apparently just basic friendliness, which now made me shy and hesitant about full-out flirting with him. I didn’t want to seem like a groupie or a bunny—heck, the drivers had enough of that from all the other women fans.
But I didn’t want to be lumped with the crew guys, either. I wanted him, and I wanted to see how far I was willing to go with him. He seemed like the type of guy who’d take it slow but firm and I knew that was what I needed.
My body tingling every time he was around definitely told me this wasn’t just some crush. This was physical attraction at its finest, and I wanted to pursue it.
I just needed to find the right time.
When I did, I was going to show Doug just how interested I was.