Slow Ride (25 page)
“I told you to pick one for yourself.”
“You did. I didn’t think I’d want one.”
Tuesday had opened the box and was plunging her tongue into the hole on the side of a jelly-filled doughnut. Holy crap, did she have any idea how hot she was?
“But suddenly I want one.”
She retracted her tongue and dragged it across her bottom lip. “Oh, yeah? Maybe I’ll let you have a bite.”
No doubt about it. She knew exactly how sexy she was.
“That’s two bites you’ve offered me now today and I haven’t actually gotten to enjoy either.”
Her response was to shove her doughnut in his face. Diesel kept an eye on the road while he took an enormous bite, powdered sugar floating up his nose. “Mm. Thanks, babe.”
“You ate half of it in one bite,” she complained.
Idling at a red light, he turned and gave her a smile. “Don’t be bitter. You have five left.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Am I?” He was stupidly pleased to hear her say that.
Was he kidding? Diesel was so cute Tuesday wanted to eat him with a spoon. After she squeezed him and licked him from head to toe. He owned cute.
Which was why it was damn near impossible to feel like anything other than a teenage girl around him. She had a crush. For the first time in a decade she had a bona fide giggle-inducing, dot-your-I’s-with-a-heart crush. It was embarrassing.
So she rolled her eyes and told him, “Not really. I just said that to make you feel better about yourself.”
“Liar.”
“It’s called sarcasm.”
“It’s called we’re here.” He pulled into his garage. “Close your doughnut box before we open the door or Wilma will have you on the ground.”
Tuesday wandered in behind Diesel, greeting Wilma after he did. The dog bounded around and jumped on her leg, obviously glad to have some company. Diesel whistled for the dog and she ran past him to the back door. Setting the doughnut box on his kitchen counter, Tuesday followed him. His backyard was beautiful in the daylight, a mass expanse of green ending in a bucolic pond that shimmered in the summer sunlight.
It suited him. It was relaxed, laid-back.
Tuesday settled into a deck chair and watched as he stood in the grass and tossed a tennis ball to Wilma. They weren’t wimpy throws, he was hurling the ball fifty feet and Wilma was tearing after it each time, bringing it back faster than Tuesday would have thought possible.
Glancing down at her feet, she checked her pedicure peeking out from behind her gold sandals. It was still intact. She wished she could say the same for the rest of her.
The timing of this—whatever it was—with Diesel was terrible. She knew she didn’t entirely have it together. She knew she was vulnerable. She had always been good at being rational in relationships and she wasn’t sure she was completely capable of that right now.
It would be easy to get hurt.
Yet she didn’t seem to be standing up and leaving.
She was either a masochist or maybe, just maybe, on the verge of something wonderful.
Wilma came running up to her, dropping the soggy ball in her lap.
“Hey, mutt, bring it to me. Tuesday doesn’t want your nasty ball.”
“I don’t mind.” After giving the dog a scratch on the head, she threw the ball. It didn’t have the velocity of Diesel’s throws, but it made it to the grass at least. Wilma bounded off after it.
“This is my life,” Diesel told her. “Entertaining a dog.”
But he didn’t look like he minded. “In return she gives you unconditional love. You can’t beat that.”
“True.” Diesel had sat down next to her and he rubbed Wilma when she inserted her head between his legs. “So Ty McCordle tells me you’re planning a cancer benefit in your father’s name.”
“Yes. It’s in two weeks.” She had thought it would ease her pain a little, but the truth was, she was having the opposite reaction. It made her feel even more raw, and she waffled between bouts of aggressive planning and the desire to run and hide from everything. It was on target mainly because Kendall had lent her her PR person for the event. Otherwise Tuesday wasn’t sure she would have been able to pull it together. “The drivers have all been great. They’ve donated personal meet-and-greets, memorabilia, driver’s experiences. Everyone has been really generous.”
It had meant a lot to her as she had been soliciting donations to hear so many of the drivers speak highly of her father. They had all stepped up to the plate to help out and then some. “I think we can really bring in some money. Kendall’s assistant has done the advertising and we have several hundred people attending.”
She was proud of what she had managed to pull together. “I’m hoping for several hundred thousand dollars at the end of the night. That would be a great boon to cancer research.”
It wouldn’t do anything for her father, but if anything she did could prevent someone else from losing a loved one, she wanted to make that happen.
“I could donate something.”
Tuesday glanced at him. He looked sincere. She had thought about asking Diesel, but then hadn’t wanted it to seem like she was twisting his arm. She hadn’t wanted him to feel obligated since they were sleeping with each other.
“That’s awesome. I would appreciate it.”
“How about a car?”
She had been reaching for the coffee cup she’d set down on the table next to her and she froze mid-reach at his words. “Excuse me?” A car? Did he mean like a dye-cast car? Because surely he couldn’t mean a whole freaking car.
“The one I’ve been working on. It’s a vintage stock car, raced in the ’63 season, won the championship. It’s worth about a hundred grand I’d guess, after my restoration. Should help meet your goal.”
Her heart started to race a lot faster than was strictly normal. “Are you kidding me? You would do that?”
He shrugged. “Of course I would. My mom died of cancer, too. If I can help, I’m happy to.”
“But how much did that car cost you? And you’ve been working on it for months.” It both baffled and touched her that he would be willing to do something so huge.
“So? I’m fortunate enough to not have to pinch every penny. I want to do this.”
Would he think she was stupid if she reached over and squeezed his hand? She decided she didn’t care. She did just that, running her thumb over the calluses of his workroughened hands. “Thank you. That’s amazing, Daniel.”
It felt right to use his given name right then and the sharp intake of breath he took told her he felt the same way. She was looking into his pale eyes, thinking that this was a very worthy man. One that she could easily fall in love with. One she wasn’t sure she actually deserved.
“It’s my pleasure.”
An idea popped into her head as she leaned into him, holding his hand, and gazing into his eyes. “You should offer to take the highest bidder on a drive.”
She thought it was a fabulous idea, him taking someone for a spin around the track in the vintage car. Collectors and enthusiasts would love that kind of opportunity.
What she didn’t expect was for him to pull his hand out of hers and look down at his dog. “No, sorry, that I’m not doing.”
Bewildered, she was upset her words had broken the mood, but unsure why they had exactly. “Why not?” She knew he could drive a car. He’d been hauling her ass all over town for the past ten days. He wasn’t that injured.
“Because I don’t want to.”
There was an answer designed to irritate her. “Well, that clears that right up.”
The look he gave her was not a smile, that was for sure. “Just leave it alone.”
“So you’re not going to give me a reason?”
“Nope.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“You don’t look that infuriated. I’ve seen you a lot more worked up.”
Bastard had a point. She was irritated though, because he clearly was refusing to drive the car because of his accident. She just wasn’t sure why exactly, and she wished he would trust her enough to confide in her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t verbally vomited her emotions on him multiple times. He couldn’t possibly think she would judge him.
But she wasn’t going to push him. If he didn’t want to talk to her, she couldn’t make him. Not right now anyway. She was a reporter, after all. She knew how to pry information out of someone when they weren’t expecting it. Right how his guard was up and probing would only result in him digging his heels in and her getting as worked up as he’d suggested she’d been in the past.
Time to retreat for the time being.
“That’s true.” Tuesday leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her face. “And I’m too tired today to get worked up, so you’re off the hook.”
“Want to skip the dog park? We can grill some steaks here and take Wilma down to the pond for a swim.”
“Sounds perfect to me.” It did. It was a great way to spend a lazy Saturday. “So can you send me the information on the car you’re donating? I’ll have the PR person get the word out on that right away.”
“Sure. Just remember I’m not driving it.”
Point taken. Geez. Tuesday lightly kicked his shin. “I know. I heard you loud and clear.”
“Ow, you just nailed my knee.” Diesel reached down and grabbed it.
Tuesday sat up in alarm, instant guilt flooding her. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry! Are you—”
The jerk grinned. “Just kidding.”
She smacked his arm, way harder than the paltry kick had been. “That is not funny. I was feeling sorry for you, jackass.”
He just continued to laugh like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Tuesday wanted to fight it, but she couldn’t. She ended up laughing with him.
“Are you going to cook me a steak or what?” she asked him.
Diesel leaned over and kissed her temple, still grinning. “Yes. I am.”
“Then get to it.”
“Bossy.”
“I learned it from you.”
He reached out and pinched her nipple. “I imagine so.”
“Hey!” She jumped, both from shock and from the unexpected pleasure. “You can’t just do that whenever you feel like it.”
“Who’s going to stop me?”
“Me.”
“And what army?” Diesel stood up, throwing the ball again for Wilma. “I’ll go get the meat since you’re dying for it.”
As he walked past her, Tuesday smacked his ass. Hard.
Twisting her hair up into a makeshift bun, she stretched her legs out as he went into the kitchen. Her shoulders relaxed, but her smile didn’t.
If this was what content felt like, she could get used to it.
“AT
what point do you know that what you’re doing is more than dating?” Diesel asked his uncle the question that had been on his mind for days.
what point do you know that what you’re doing is more than dating?” Diesel asked his uncle the question that had been on his mind for days.
It was a rhetorical question, since he was fairly certain that what he and Tuesday were doing had moved beyond an occasional dinner and a movie, but they hadn’t talked about it. Was he supposed to talk about it with her? Hell, he didn’t know.
They were sitting on his aunt and uncle’s deck, watching Tammy and Pete’s kids run around the yard, chasing Wilma. He had brought her over to give her some exercise, and as a good excuse to see his deceased cousin’s kids. His aunt and uncle were babysitting for the weekend while Tammy accompanied Elec to Richmond for the Sunday race. His aunt Beth was putting together ice cream sundaes in the house so he figured this was his only chance to talk to his uncle without her hearing and sending the wedding announcement into the papers.
“You seeing her more than twice a week?”
“Yes.” He’d seen her three nights this week alone since their lazy Saturday afternoon and they were going to the drive-in movie in an hour.
“You talk to her every day?”
“Not always in person, but texts, yes.”
“Are you feeling like you want to buy her gifts or do some kind of a grand gesture?”
Funny he should ask that. “Well, I donated my car to her cancer benefit auction.”
His uncle’s jaw dropped, his beer bottle halfway to his mouth. “You did what? The ’63? Are you serious?”
He nodded.
“Boy, you aren’t just doing more than dating. You’re in love.”
That made him bristle. “It’s for charity, it was the right thing to do!”
“Uh-huh.” His uncle’s voice was dripping skepticism. “I take it we’re talking about Tuesday Jones?”
“Yep.” All he thought about was Tuesday. Morning and night, she was crowding his thoughts. He wanted to be with her constantly, wanted to make her laugh, and craved her sharp tongue putting him in his place. He wanted her in bed, sliding her mouth over his, spreading her legs for him, letting him control her the way he never could anywhere else. He enjoyed every minute with her, and when he wasn’t with her, he just wished he were.
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