Cal was the latter, and it irritated him that Evelyn had to spend the evening with a drunken piece of shit like Cal.
Of course, it had been Evelyn’s choice to go out with Cal, but he knew she’d done it just to piss him off.
It had pissed him off. He didn’t like admitting that, because it meant she mattered to him. And she didn’t matter to him. He hardly knew her, and it wasn’t like they were dating. He might have kissed her once, but other than that they were nothing to each other. She worked for his father and they were supposed to spend time together. He was still trying to figure out how they were supposed to handle that.
In the meantime, maybe he’d have to learn to temper his anger over stuff about his dad and not jump all over her.
They entered his trailer and he got her a drink. She slid into the booth and opened her bag, dragging out a salad and some bread.
“Did you eat?” she asked. “I have plenty here.”
“I ate earlier. Go ahead.”
She dove into her food and he could tell she was hungry, which only served to make him angrier with Cal. He refilled his drink and took a seat across from her.
“Cal has a drinking problem.”
She took a few bites of salad and then a sip of her drink. “No kidding. That was obvious after his eighth beer and fourth shot of whiskey.”
“The bad thing is, he’s an awesome driver. When he’s sober, he’s one of the best out there. He just can’t lay off the alcohol. It’s been a problem for a while now. The year after he won the championship, it went to his head. Big time. He thought he was hot shit, really bought into all the hype and the media bullshit. Women flocking to him, fans all over him, it messed him up. He ended up losing a really great wife who couldn’t handle his cheating.”
Evelyn paused and looked at him. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was so nice to me earlier today.”
“Like I said, when he’s sober, he can be a really nice guy, but then it’s like there’s this switch inside him, and when it gets flipped, he turns into someone completely different.”
She bit into a slice of bread. “Yeah. An asshole.”
“Exactly.”
After she finished her food, she took a long swallow of soda. “I’m sorry about Cal.
I see a lot of parallels to that in Washington. Nice people get elected, their heads filled with all the great things they think they can do. Then all that changes when they come to Washington. All that power corrupting and all.”
He shrugged. “Some people are weak. They can’t handle fame and fortune and being handed things. You go from nothing one day to having a staff of people asking what they can do for you the next. They don’t know what to do with it and it affects them negatively. Their egos explode.”
“I agree.”
He wanted to throw his father into that mix, but they were having a good conversation right now and he didn’t want to fuck it up.
“Has anyone talked to Cal about rehab?” Evelyn asked.
He let out a laugh. “Yeah. Tons of people, from his ex-wife to his crew chief to the head of the racing division. He won’t listen. And he never drinks when he’s racing, he’s never late for a practice or a qualifying or a race. He’s never had a DUI, so they can’t sanction him. When he goes out drinking, he tips the places well. And he does a lot of his famous partying in his trailer, surrounded by people he trusts. His fans don’t know about it because he keeps it on the down low.”
It wasn’t very down low tonight. She wondered how many of his fans were at the restaurant. It was dark and private and there weren’t very many people there. Maybe that’s why he brought her there, because he liked the anonymity of the place.
She nodded. “He has to want to help himself anyway. Until he does, there’s really nothing you can do.”
“The other drivers worry, though. Everybody’s afraid that someday he’s going to show up drunk for a race and hurt himself—or one of us. Then all hell is going to break loose.”
“God, I hope that doesn’t happen.”
“Me, too. It’ll end his career. Or one of ours.”
They both went silent then, and Gray knew this was the moment he needed to man up and say something about last night.
“I’m sorry.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “About what?”
“Last night. About jumping all over you about helping out Miranda. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You’re sensitive about anything having to do with your father. I understand that.
Instead of talking it out with you, I reacted negatively. I’m sorry, too.”
She’d let him off the hook a lot easier than he deserved.
“I’m sorry about today, too. You wanted to learn about the cars and I was a dick about it.”
“Yes, you were. But the whole thing with Cal was my doing.”
“To make me mad, I know. You obviously aren’t attracted to him.”
She crossed her arms. “And how do you know that?”
He nodded toward her outfit. “Look at what you’re wearing.”
“Hey. What’s wrong with my dress?”
“You look like you just stepped off the Mayflower. No woman who wants to impress a guy would wear a dress like that.”
She laughed, obviously not insulted. “Okay, fine. You’ve got me there. So, we’ll start over?”
He smiled at her. “Yeah. We’ll start over.”
Her lips lifted too, making his gaze gravitate to them and stay there. He remembered last night and what it felt like to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her again, to take up where they left off. She’d felt good against him, her body molded to his, pliant and welcoming. He wondered what would have happened if they’d been someplace more private.
Like here.
He lifted his gaze to her eyes, saw the desire and wariness mixed there. Maybe Evelyn was remembering the same thing.
She should be wary. The two of them together wasn’t a good thing.
He took that back. Getting her in his bed would be a great thing, followed by the morning after, which would mean he’d still have to see her, work with her, and be reminded that she worked for his father. It would be a hell of a mess, which was why, despite her killer body and sexy mouth, he wasn’t going to take her to bed.
“I should go.” She stood, and despite that ugly-as-hell dress and the even worse shoes she wore, she looked as sexy tonight as she had last night. He didn’t think it had anything to do with the attire. Had to be the woman.
His dick totally agreed, because it twitched, still obviously thinking of kissing her and touching her last night. And his dick had a mind of its own. “You could stay for a while.”
She cocked a brow. “And do what? I left my laptop in my hotel room. We can’t work.”
Good. He liked the idea of not working, of not thinking of her as being part of his father’s life. He wanted to think of her as a desirable woman he could take to bed.
He took a step closer, inhaling her scent. Something clean and sweet. Not perfume, though. “There are other things to do besides work, Evelyn.”
“I’m pretty sure you made it clear last night you wanted nothing to do with me on a personal level.”
She’d worn her hair pulled back. He reached behind her and easily unclipped it, then spread her hair over her shoulders. “I was mad last night.”
She tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. Her breathing was hard and fast. “So was I.”
“You mad now?”
“No.”
“Good.” He slid his hand around the nape of her neck, closed what little distance there was between them, and did what he’d been dying to do—angry or not—all goddamn day long.
He kissed her.
TEN
EVELYN’S BREATH CAUGHT AT THE FIRST TOUCH OF Gray’s lips to hers.
A thousand reasons why this was a colossally bad idea ran through her mind, but then she leaned against a wall of hard male muscle, and all those reasons flitted right out of her head. All she could think about was the fullness of his lips, the way he brushed them back and forth against hers, and then his tongue invaded her mouth, sliding against hers. Her belly tumbled, her legs trembled, and she was lost.
She laid a hand on his well-toned abs, wound one into his hair and clenched a handful. He groaned against her mouth, and she let out a moan. When he cupped her butt to draw her closer, she knew she was a goner. Whatever objection she thought she might make wasn’t going to happen. She was in this to the finish line tonight. Her clit tingled with need, her breasts felt swollen and heavy, and all she needed to know was how fast they were going to get to the bedroom, because she wanted to be naked and have Gray inside her as soon as humanly possible.
She slipped her hand between them and reached for the very hard part of him nestling against her hip, stopping short when Gray grabbed her wrist.
He looked down at her. “Whoa. In a hurry?”
“Actually, yes. Shall we move this to the bedroom?”
His gaze burned hot, but he shook his head. “I’ve got a better idea. Let’s slow this down a little.”
Oh, God. He was going to tell her he changed his mind. How embarrassing. He was right. This was a really bad idea. Where had her common sense gone? She knew where it had gone—somewhere between her legs.
Except Gray slid his hands down her sides, a slow trek that ended at her hips. And when he gathered her dress in his hands and began to raise it, her hem rising over her thighs, she looked down, then up at him, confusion reigning.
He held the material of her dress bunched in his hands, his breathing heavy, that hot, panty-melting look doing nothing to cool her libido.
She thought he was stopping things. This most definitely didn’t appear to be a thudding halt. And when he grabbed her butt and lifted her, he said, “Wrap your legs around me.”
Maybe they were heading to the bedroom after all. She laid her hands on his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her toward the bedroom.
But he stopped in the kitchen and placed her on his countertop.
Oh, my.
She’d always been a strictly bedroom type of woman. But as Gray pulled her shoes off, then pushed her dress over her hips, she was beginning to see the benefits of out-of-bed experiences. This was decadent, air from the vent of the air conditioner pouring down over them as he reached for her panties. And thank God she’d worn something other than random white ones.
“These black lacy things are sexy,” he said as he drew them down her legs. “You wear them for Cal?”
“There wasn’t a chance in hell that Cal McClusky was going to see my underwear tonight.”
He gave her a wicked, half smile as he looked up at her. “Good to know. Is that why you wore this hideous dress?”
“Hey. It’s not that bad.”
“Yeah, it is. It’s like a dress a nun would wear. You wore it to be sexless, didn’t you?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“You couldn’t be sexless if you wore a dress made out of porcupine quills, Evelyn.”
He smoothed his hands up her legs, then circled her inner thighs with his thumbs.
“Because you are one hot woman, and no matter what you wear, you outshine it.”
Oh, he was smooth, and said all the right things. She melted under his questing fingers.
He tipped his gaze up to meet hers. “But underneath? This underwear is sexy as hell.
Does the bra match?”
She was finding it hard to breathe with him touching her like that. “Yes.”
“Let’s have a look.”
As if he undressed women every day—and for all she knew, maybe he did—he reached behind her and deftly drew her zipper down, then raised her dress over her head. He tossed it on the chair by the table, then took a step back.