Hard to Break
I’m feeling better about everything, and have tried to push the incident to the back of my mind by keeping busy at work. Tazen has kept me occupied by helping me sort Dad’s house and apartment hunt for my own place. We’re going away tomorrow, back to L.A. to visit his other garage and attend the massive unveiling of a car. Plus we’re going to watch a race with one of his builds, and attend a charity function.
I’m looking forward to it for more reasons than one. Getting away is something I need desperately, and getting away with Tazen I think I might just need even more. Things between us have been good. We’ve been spending time together, we’ve worked together, even though it’s on separate jobs, and we even went out to dinner last night. There’s something between us, a deep spark that’s proving to be rather beautiful.
I’m nervous about going away for a few days, but it’s a good nervous. Being alone with Tazen isn’t something I thought I’d ever be doing. Then there’s the fact that he’s taking me to his original garage. That blows my mind. I’ve wanted to see where he started for so long, ever since I first watched his show on television. There’s something about seeing where someone started out.
“How’s the fix coming along?”
I jerk out of my thoughts and stare over at Toby, who has his arms crossed over his chest. He’s giving me his usual angry look. I still haven’t figured that guy out. Damn him. I will get the better of him eventually. He has me curious, that’s for sure. I give him a bright smile even though he’s giving me a glare.
“It’s fine.”
He raises his brows. “Fine?”
“Yes.” I nod. “It’s fine.”
“Tazen asked when it’ll be complete.”
“Tell my hunk of a boss, that if he wants to know that, he can ask me himself.”
I get back to work and listen to Toby’s grunt. I smile and focus on the task at hand. I might also be thinking about what I’m going to take for our weekend away. We’re going to a charity dinner, which means I’ll need a nice dress. I wonder if I have time to go and buy one before we leave. I’m deep in this thought, when a hard body presses against my back.
“Are you being difficult, angel?”
I grin at the sound of Tazen’s voice. His hand slides around and lands on my stomach, pulling me back into him. “No, I said it’s fine. That’s an answer.”
“I’m thinking you’re pushing me to bend you over another car.”
I shiver. “Maybe I am.”
He presses his lips to my neck and we hear the grunting of the guys around us.
“Fuck, take it outside,” Rick mutters.
I grin and turn, reaching up and hooking my arms around Tazen’s neck. Then I lean in and kiss him. I make it deep and hard, with loads of tongue.
“Jesus,” Drasco yells. “That’s sick.”
“It’s awesome.” Kellan laughs.
“Fuck,” Toby grunts.
I pull back and see Tazen is grinning, obviously impressed by my show of affection.
“I’m going to leave early today. I need to get a dress.”
He shakes his head and I frown.
“We’re going to a charity dinner,” I point out. “I can’t go without a dress.”
His lips quirk. “I already got you one.”
I blink. “You got me one?”
“Yeah, I got you one.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You got me one.”
He chuckles. “Okay, my sister got you one. I gave her your size and she got you one, well, it’s actually three so you can choose.”
My mouth drops open. “Three?”
“Yeah, baby, three.”
“But … I don’t need three.”
He leans down, brushing his lips against mine. “Only the best for my girl.”
His girl.
That feels nice.
“Yes, but … three?”
He leans back with a wolfish grin. “That’s three for me to peel off.”
I slap his chest. “You’re an animal. And … you got your sister to do it!”
He shrugs. “She thought it was fun.”
“Okay, well, I’ll be sure to put them all to good use.”
“You won’t be wearing any of them for long,” he says, spinning me back towards my job and slapping my ass. “Now get back to work.”
“Aye aye, boss.”
He walks away with a chuckle.
I get back to work with a smile.
* * *
The plane ride to L.A. isn’t long and we arrive just as the sun is setting. I’ve never been here before, so I’m fascinated as we drive through the busy streets. We arrive at our hotel and check in. Tazen has planned for us to meet his family for dinner, which has my stomach twisting with nerves. I hope they don’t think I’m too … average … for their son.
The hotel is beautiful, but I did notice Tazen didn’t go over the top with the room. I think he did that for me, and the very idea makes my heart swell. He doesn’t want me feeling uncomfortable. It is a nice room, though. It has a massive king bed, a beautiful patio that overlooks the lights of the city and a seriously awesome bath. As soon as we shut the door, I drop my bags and rush out onto the patio.
Tazen is behind me in seconds, wrapping his arms around me.
“You like it?”
“It’s amazing,” I breathe. “So pretty.”
“Yeah, I liked living here.”
“Why did you leave?” I ask, twisting so I’m facing him.
“Florida has better clientele for racing—so therefore more business for me. And more opportunities to build racing cars.”
“You made a good choice. What time is dinner with your family?”
“At seven. We have an hour.”
“An hour?” I cry, turning and rushing back into the room. “Oh no.”
He laughs, sitting on the bed and kicking his boots off. He watches in fascination as I rush around the room, pulling out clothes, showering, doing my hair and getting dressed. He doesn’t move from his spot as I do. When we have only ten minutes to go, he showers and changes, like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Damn him for being so casual. I’m dying of nerves.
“Ready?” he asks.
I’m pacing by the door, of course I’m ready.
He laughs, I glare.
“Come on,” he says, taking my hand and leading us out. “They’ll love you.”
We get into the elevator and I turn and glance at myself in the mirror. My dress is black, but it’s not tight or short. It’s snugger fitting around the bust, but flares out at my waist and goes to my knees. My shoes are the only pair of heels I own, and they’re sling-back pumps, also black. I left my hair down and did some basic makeup. I look nice, but I feel so out of place.
I don’t do dresses.
“You can get back into your jeans later,” Tazen teases.
My god, he knows me so well. My heart melts.
“Not funny.” I squirm. “I hate dresses.”
“Maybe,” he says, placing a hand on my lower back and leading me out of the elevator. “But baby, they don’t hate you.”