“A cup of coffee will be fine.” I hung up before he could say anything else that my brain decided to translate into sexual innuendo. My phone pinged with an incoming text. I stepped inside the lift behind reception and stabbed the code into the keypad. The doors closed. Thirty seconds later, they opened in the foyer of Tate’s apartment. I expected him to be standing there. He wasn’t.
I walked inside his open-plan living space. Tate had his back to me, grinding coffee beans in the kitchen. The smell wafted over, and I sniffed appreciatively.
“Hey,” I said.
Glancing over his shoulder, he hit me with a dazzling smile. “Grab a seat.” He pointed his chin at a row of stools tucked underneath a breakfast bar. “How do you take it?”
“Strong, black, no sugar.”
He put the ground beans into a fancy machine and a minute later, set a cup of the most divine-smelling coffee in front of me.
“Beats instant,” I said, taking a sip.
“I don’t drink a lot of coffee,” Tate said. “But when I do, I like it to be fresh.” He blew across the top of his mug, then sipped. “Back so soon, Madison? To what do I owe the pleasure? You want to rail on me some more?” He threw his arms out to the sides, a broad grin reaching his eyes. “Go for it, sweetheart.”
I ignored his teasing and dove straight in. “You had a brother. He died, too. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tate visibly flinched. Setting his coffee on the black granite worktop, he climbed down from his stool and walked over to a large picture window showing off a magnificent view of London. He buried his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, his spine stiff, his shoulders hunched.
“Why would I have told you?”
I got up and stood next to him, my attention on him, his on the view. “No reason, but I wish you had.”
He twisted his head and looked down at me with those soulful eyes. Seriously, I almost leaned toward him but stopped myself at the last minute.
“What makes you say that?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe if I’d known you’d also suffered a tragic loss, it might have helped me empathize.”
Tate gave a slow shake of his head. “I don’t understand you.”
I straightened. “What do you mean?”
He focused his attention out the window again. “You’ve made it very clear you can’t abide me, you hold me accountable for the death of your brother, and you think I’m immature and irresponsible. Yet you stand there saying that if you’d known about Cameron, you’d have, what, wanted to be best buddies? Share grief? Compare notes on how long it took after your loved one died for you to actually get a decent night’s sleep?”
I rubbed my forehead. This wasn’t going according to plan. “No, but it might have helped me see you as human. As a man who’d lost someone they loved dearly, too.”
He sniggered under his breath. “See me as human. As opposed to what? The devil incarnate? A vampire? A demon?”
I grimaced. “Okay, cards on the table, Tate. I went digging into your past this morning because of something you said last night. Losing a brother is a terrible thing. When I found out you, too, had lost a loved one, I thought that having some common ground between us would help me persuade you to do more to show young kids the ugly side of racing. The dangerous and scary side.”
He gave a sarcastic laugh. “See, here’s the thing, Madison, I don’t think racing is ugly or scary. Dangerous, perhaps, but then so is crossing the road, and yet we do that without giving it a second thought.”
I snorted. “That’s hardly the same thing.”
“Isn’t it? I beg to differ.”
I folded my arms across my chest. I could already feel myself becoming defensive, but Tate had an uncanny knack for bringing out that side of me. “These kids are impressionable and naïve. They watch you guys with your helicopters, your fancy homes, and even fancier cars, and they think it’s easy. They think it’s all about speed, but they forget about skill. They don’t see the scale of the hard work going on behind the scenes. They don’t understand the sacrifice, the effort. All I’m asking is for you to highlight a little more of that side. Is that too much to ask?”
“Yes,” he hit back. “The sponsorship deals I’ve signed expect me to behave in a certain manner. These companies don’t want me attaching risk to their products. They want me to sell an impossible dream, and that’s what I agree to. I can’t be held responsible for every kid who decides to get behind the wheel and act like a reckless idiot.”
I gasped. “You are a piece of work, you know that?” My voice raised in pitch, but I couldn’t help it. Rage coursed through my veins, and the only way to stop me from going mad was to give it to Tate—with both barrels. “It’s you that’s the reckless idiot. If you cared at all, you’d see that with your exalted position comes responsibility. I mean, it’s not like you even need the goddamn money.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
My head jerked back. What on earth was he talking about? This guy was a multi-millionaire several times over. The interest he earned in one day would pay my salary for a year. “Don’t be so ridiculous,” I said.
His eyes widened. “Ridiculous? You think I’m being ridiculous?” He snorted. “Yeah, I guess looking through those bigoted, judgmental lenses of yours, that’s all you would see.”
He spun around and marched into the kitchen. Picking up both cups of coffee, he tossed them into the sink. He braced his hands on the kitchen worktop, his shoulders hunched around his ears. “Go home, Madison.”
Something about his tone, his demeanor, his anger, ramped up my curiosity. “No.”
He spun around to face me. “No?”
“Yes, no.”
There was the minutest twitch to his lips. “Well, which is it? Yes or no?”
I cast him a withering look. “Stop playing games, Tate.”
He stroked his chin, studying me. And then he gave a wry shake of his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
The gentleness to his tone, and his heartfelt, unexpected apology, rocked me. My heartbeat kicked up a notch. I palmed the back of my neck.
“I’m sorry, too.”
Our gazes locked. A muscle ticked in Tate’s jaw, almost as though he was grinding his teeth. My mouth dried up, and I wetted my lips then swallowed.
Tate pushed off the worktop and closed the space between us until he stood right before me, so close I could feel the heat from his body. A deepening ache grew in my core, but while I worked on figuring out what that could mean, he curved a hand around my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek.
“You have the softest skin,” he murmured.
Every muscle south of my belly button clenched, and I let out a shuddering breath. “What are you doing?”
He blinked slowly, then moved his hand to the back of my neck, holding me firmly at the nape. “I’m giving up playing games.”
Bending his head, he kissed me. I didn’t even have time to acknowledge what was happening, but it didn’t matter because my body knew exactly what to do. I buried my hands in his hair and opened my mouth beneath his. Rough stubble grazed my skin. God help me, Tate Flynn could kiss. He wasn’t even using his tongue, and I’d already melted into a puddle of desire.
And then the sensible part of me caught up, the part that remembered Tate and I were arch enemies, or at least we used to be. Were we still? I didn’t know.
I’m so confused.
I tore my mouth from his and took several steps back. My fingers automatically touched my lips, and while I found myself in a state of bewilderment about how we’d gone from arguing to kissing, Tate merely looked amused. A faint smirk played about his lips, lips that had been on mine mere seconds ago, and I wished still were. His eyes shone with an inner glow, a mischief, a ‘Yes, I know I’ve been bad, but wasn’t it good’ vibe.
I covered my face with my hands while shaking my head. “What are we doing?” I said, my voice muffled. When Tate
didn’t reply, I dropped my hands to find him right in front of me again. I tried to step back, but he caught me around the waist, holding me firmly in place.
“We were kissing,” he said. “Until you decided to listen to your mind instead of your body.” He wagged his finger in front of my face. “Never a good idea. Always, always, listen to your body. Your mind knows fuck all when it comes to desire.”
“I don’t even like you.”
He shook his head. “Wrong. You do. You just don’t like the fact that you like me. That’s something altogether different. For years, you’ve built me up to be your nemesis, but now, standing here with me instead of hiding behind a protest flag, you’re not so sure, are you, Madison?”
I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Why did his assessment have to be so accurate? This last week, when I’d finally met the man rather than the myth, I’d discovered he might not be the dreadful person I’d built him up to be in my mind. Sure, I still hated that he refused to acknowledge he had a responsibility to those who followed him, but I’d also discovered there was a lot more to Tate Flynn than I’d initially thought. He had depth, layers, he intrigued me. I wanted to get to know him better, to try to understand his point of view rather than simply thinking he should automatically accept mine.
“Come on a date with me,” he said, jerking me from my inner thoughts.
I squinted up at him. “Why on earth would I do that?”
He gave me a cocky smirk. “Because you want to.”
Damn the man. I did want to, even though I hadn’t figured out why I wanted to. What if I discovered my preconceptions about him turned out to be false? Then again, I could find out that they were right on. Then I’d be able to cast him aside and continue on with my life, content in the knowledge that my beliefs were justified.
“Fine. One date. No helicopters. You’re paying. Better make it count.”
He grinned. “I think you’ll find I’m up to the task.”
Tate
On the drive over to pick up Madison, I began to have second thoughts about the date I’d planned. Jack had been fine about it, if not a little surprised at my unusual request. I’d explained that I didn’t want to just take Madison for dinner or to the movies. I wanted something more exciting, more… me. His response had been to tease me about whether this meant we were ‘Going steady.’
Sarcastic fucker.
I still wasn’t sure whether she’d see what I had planned and demand I take her home immediately or, worse, storm off and refuse to ever speak to me again. I decided to take the risk, though, because if she agreed to do it, she might finally be able to begin to understand what made me tick.
When I reached her building, I found her already waiting outside. Good, she’d followed my instructions to wear jeans rather than a dress or a skirt. Even dressed casually, though, Madison Brady oozed class. She was the type of woman who wore clothes well. She could wear a hessian sack and she’d still look amazing. Her perfect skin, long russet hair, tall slim frame, and large golden eyes that lent themselves to both innocence and sin had me twisted in knots.
But more than her physical beauty, Madison’s razor-sharp mind and spunky personality drew me to her on a deeper level. Yes, she was very easy on the eye, but so were lots of women, yet none interested me the way she did. At first, I thought it had something to do with her antipathy toward me, as if her dislike set off an age-old instinct to win her round just to prove I could. But the more I saw of her, the more I realized that wasn’t the reason at all. She intrigued me. Every single thing about her. Determined to make her like me, I needed to show her I wasn’t the man she assumed me to be.
I leaned across to the passenger seat and pressed down on the latch, opening the door. “Have you been waiting long?” I asked as she climbed in.
“Only a couple of minutes.” She clicked her seat belt in place. “Where are we going?”
I tapped the side of my nose. “If I told you that, you wouldn’t come.”
Her eyes widened. “I said no helicopters.”
“And I listened to that stipulation.” I gave her a wicked grin. “But that was the only stipulation, right?”
She groaned. “What the hell have I got myself in to?”
I chuckled. “I promise you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
I checked my mirrors, then pulled away from the curb. As soon as we were on our way she relaxed, and once I got her on the subject of medicine, she chatted away quite happily, clearly a subject she felt very passionate about. As I listened to her enthusiasm for her vocation, spoken in her low, soft, beautiful tones, an ache I didn’t understand grew within me.
When we arrived at our destination, Madison glanced around and frowned. “You brought me to a racetrack?”
“Yep, come on.”
I climbed out because if I didn’t, I might have bottled it. Nerves swarmed my abdomen, and I took a deep, calming breath to try to quell them. This could turn out to be the shortest first date in history.
I walked around the front of the car and took Madison’s hand. Surprisingly, she didn’t snatch it away which I chalked up as a minor victory. I hoped, by the end of the night—if she hadn’t killed me—I’d earn another chance to kiss her.
We entered the track via the VIP entrance. Only once we got inside did Madison ask the question I’d expected her to voice in the empty car lot.
“There’s no one here?”
I nodded. “Correct. Only us, plus a couple of people I need to help make this date work.”
She blinked rapidly, her teeth nibbling at her bottom lip. “I don’t understand.”
I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles. “You will.”
We wandered down the pit lane and turned into the first garage. Ant, my mechanic, was waiting, just like I’d asked him to be. He’d brought a couple of juniors with him. We shook hands, and I clapped him on the arm.
“This is Madison,” I said. “Madison, this is my mechanic, Ant.”
She gave him a warm smile. “Hi.”
He grinned. “You’re a brave lady.”
I cleared my throat. “Um, I haven’t told her yet.”
“Oh fuck,” Ant said.
“Told me what?” Madison asked, turning her suspicious gaze on me.
Ant puffed out his cheeks. “This is all you, buddy.” He gestured to the other two mechanics. “Probably best to stand back, lads.”
“Look at the car,” I said to Madison.
She did, then scratched her head. “Yeah, it’s a racing car. So what?”
I raised my eyebrows. “For a smart girl, you’re missing an important feature. How many seats does it have?”
It took about half a second before she realized what I meant. Her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. “You have got to be kidding me.”
I stroked my stubble and offered up an impish grin. “Surprise!”
She shook her head violently. “No way. I’m not getting in there with you.”
“It’s perfectly safe.”
“The hell it is.”
I threw my arms out to the side. “You’re with the soon-to-be five-time world champion, baby. Couldn’t be in safer hands.”
“You are crazy.”
I snagged her around the waist and pressed my mouth to her ear. “Crazy about you,” I said.
She flushed, and I didn’t think it was from anger. At least I hoped not. I kinda hoped it came from lust.
Then she shoved me away.
“You don’t even know me.”
“I’ll know a hell of a lot more about you after this,” I said, laughing.
“I haven’t agreed to do it.”
I flicked the end of her nose playfully. “But you will.”
“You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
She dampened her lips. “What if I get scared? How will you know to stop the car?”
Good. She was asking the right questions. Logical questions, which didn’t surprise me. From what I’d gleaned so far, Madison Brady was a considered, rational woman. “We’ll be wearing earpieces so we can talk to each other, and also to Ant. He’ll be able to hear us, too, so remember that when you’re tempted to shout out what a sex god I am.”
She rolled her eyes but also chuckled.
Yep, she’s definitely warming to me.
I wrapped one hand around her wrist, tugging her closer, and brushed her hair off her face. “If you get really scared, all you have to do is tell me to stop the car, and I will. No questions asked. But do one thing for me.”
“What?”
“Give it a chance. The reason I’ve brought you here is because I want you to experience, firsthand, what drives me to do what I do. It’s a hell of a buzz. So when I go around the first corner, and you’re thinking ‘Shit!’, don’t shout stop at that point. Let the adrenaline kick in, and then sit back and enjoy the ride. If, after a minute or so you still want to bail, tell me.”
She pursed her lips, considering her next move. And then she heaved a sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. But don’t let me down. I’m trusting you to keep me safe.”
I’d expected more of a fight. Clearly, I hadn’t figured Madison out yet. I clasped a hand to my chest, only half in jest, because inside, my heart sang.
“Did you just say you trusted me? I think I’m gonna faint.”
She clouted me on the upper arm. “Very funny. Don’t make me regret my decision, Tate Flynn.”
I pulled her into my side and kissed her temple. “You won’t.”
We kitted up, and I fitted her helmet, making sure it was secure before putting on my own. I tested the earpieces. Satisfied our communications system worked, I helped her into the car and leaned over to strap her in. My arm brushed the side of her breast. I braced, half anticipating a metaphorical slap, but either Madison didn’t notice, or she knew it had been accidental, because when I stuck up my thumb, she responded with the same gesture.
I slid onto the front seat. Ant fastened my seat belts—there wasn’t enough room for me to do it myself—and affixed the steering wheel. The engine fired up, all done remotely via computer, and the seat beneath me vibrated.
Gridlock: Full Velocity Series - Book 2 Page 6