My eyes meet with his as he lifts them from blatantly staring at my arse. The look in them hits me straight in the gut, surprising the hell out of me. His eyes are profoundly blue and filled with heat. My skin starts to prickle as his intense stare burns me up.
I’ve never had such an instant visual reaction to a man before.
Fuck.
Take it easy, Andi. This isn’t a problem. You’ve met good-looking men before. You can turn this off. Drivers are a no-go area, especially ones you work for.
My job is too important to lose over a man.
Straightening, I turn to face him.
“Hello,” I say in my most confident and formal voice.
I get nothing back, and that’s because he hasn’t heard me. He’s too busy staring at my breasts.
Typical man.
I have the sudden urge to punch him in his handsome face.
But I won’t because I’m a professional. I’ll handle this in the best way I know when it comes to dealing with pervy dickheads like him.
“It’s your birthday?” I say sweetly, my smile a little on the flirtatious side.
He grins. “It sure is, and it’s definitely looking up now that you’re here. Are you going to make it extra special for me, sugar?”
He thinks he’s about to get lucky.
Far from it. Smarmy twat.
I tilt my head to the side, keeping the flirty smile on my face, as I walk up to him until there’s very little space between us. I press my fingers to his chest. God, that’s firm. I can feel the ridge of his muscles underneath my fingertips.
He’s tall, too, a good few inches higher than my five-nine. I’d say he’s six-one, which is tall for a driver, but he’s lean. He needs to be to fit into those cars. I bet, under those clothes of his, there’s nothing but toned muscle. Drivers have to be seriously fit, and Carrick Ryan certainly ticks that box on both counts.
Now, I’m imagining him naked. Great. Just fucking great.
I force my focus back to the now. “Well…” I lean in closer to him, hearing him suck in a sharp breath. I lower my voice as I whisper, “If you ever call me sugar again, you won’t see your next birthday. That’s for sure.”
He tilts his head back in amusement. “Feisty. I like it.”
I take a step back, dropping my hand from his chest. “There’s nothing here for you to like.”
His eyes run the length of me, lingering on my legs, the lusty look firing in them again. “I see plenty to like. Jesus…your legs go on forever.”
I wish I had something to hide my legs behind. Instead, I fold my arms to bring his focus up. “I’m not your type.”
Lifting his eyes back to mine, he gives me a confident smile. “Amazing arse. Great stems. Awesome rack. Beautiful face. Yep”—he nods—“you’re definitely my type.”
“I would have thought stupid, gullible, and willing—of which, I’m none—would be more your style.”
He lets out a laugh, which shivers through me, leaving my skin covered in goose bumps. “We’ll see—on the willing part, that is.”
On a sigh, I turn and pick up my jacket off the car before pulling it on.
“You’re leaving?”
“Looks like it.”
“Give me your number.”
“Nope.”
“At least tell me your name?”
Pausing, I glance back at him. “Andressa.”
“Surname?”
I smile at his persistence.
Just at that, Ben comes back into the garage. “Ah, cool. You’ve met Andi,” he says to Carrick as he passes by.
Carrick’s gaze hits me full-on. Confusion flickers over his face. “Andi?”
“Mmhmm.”
“But isn’t Andi my—”
“New mechanic? Yeah, that’s me.”
“You’re Andi…my new mechanic?” His eyes are wide with surprise.
I have to suppress the smile I feel. Tilting my head to the side, I put my hands on my hips. “I am.”
“Well, fuck me. I was expecting someone—”
“With a penis and a deep voice? Sorry to disappoint.”
His face blanks, and then deep laughter bursts from him.
At that moment, I realize that I just said penis to Carrick Ryan.
I said penis.
Fuck.
Kill me. Kill me now.
He’s staring at me with a sexy smirk on his face and deep curiosity in his eyes. He’s looking at me like I’m his next meal.
He takes a step closer to me. His voice lowers as he says, “I’m far from disappointed. You’re beautiful, smart, feisty, and good with your hands. All my favorite things wrapped up in one hot package.” His eyes draw the length of me.
I hear a throat clear and turn to see Uncle John standing behind me with a pissed off look on his face.
“Carrick, your dad wants to see you in his office.”
He frowns at Uncle John. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you go see him and find out?”
He lets out a sigh and starts backing up. His eyes are still on me. “We’re all going out, the team and a few of my friends, for birthday drinks tonight. You should come.”
“Oh.” I’m taken aback. “Thank you, Mr. Ryan, but—”
“Carrick. Actually, call me Carr. That’s what my friends call me.”
“Carr. Original,” I deadpan. I can’t seem to help it. He naturally brings the snark out of me.
He grins. It’s a real panty-dropping grin. “Yes, you are.”
Oh, he’s good. But I’m better. “I’ll stick with Carrick. Thanks. And I appreciate the invitation, but I already have plans for tonight.”
His brow furrows. “With?”
Rude much? My new bed, if he must know.
“Me,” Uncle John imparts with a fatherly tone in his voice.
Carrick’s eyes flicker between the two of us, settling on Uncle John. “What are you doing?”
“Dinner.”
Guess I’m going to dinner tonight with Uncle John.
“Well, you can come for a drink after. It’ll give me a chance to get to know my new mechanic better.” He gives me a pointed look. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I watch as he walks away, his confident stride moving through the garage.
“So, that’s Carrick,” Uncle John says, letting out a huff of air.
“Hmm.”
“He’s a good kid. Smart as shit and one hell of a driver, like nothing I’ve seen since your, erm—” My dad. He breaks off and clears his throat. “Anyway, unfortunately, Carrick’s pretty much led by his dick.” Realizing what he said, Uncle John goes bright red in the face. “Shit. Sorry, Andi.”
I laugh. “Uncle John, I’m a grown woman, and I work around men all the time. I’ve heard worse words than dick.”
“Sure, sure.” His cheeks flush red again. “So, was Carrick okay with you? I heard him say—”
“Yeah. No problem at all.” I brush him off.
I decide against telling him that Carrick was very much trying his luck with me. I handled it, so no need to worry Uncle John with it.
I suddenly feel a wave of tiredness and have to stifle a yawn.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay for tonight? You don’t have to go, you know.”
“No. I’m fine.” A yawn escapes. “It’ll be a good way to get to know my new coworkers. But would it be okay if you take me to the apartment now? I can get a shower and some shut-eye. Then, I’ll be fine for tonight.”
Another yawn escapes me, and Uncle John chuckles.
“Come on, sleepyhead. Let’s get you to your new home.”
“WE DON’T HAVE TO STAY LONG. An hour max, and then I’ll get you home.”
“Okay.” I smile at Uncle John and then climb out of his car.
We had dinner at this nice Italian restaurant, and now, we’ve arrived at the pub where Carrick’s birthday party is going on, but I’m already starting to lag a bit.
When Uncle John
took me to my new apartment, I barely looked around. He got me settled, and I fell facedown on my bed. I woke up hours later with only thirty minutes to spare before Uncle John was coming back to pick me up.
It was a quick shower and hair wash. With a halfhearted attempt at blow-drying my hair, after I dug the dryer out of my suitcase, I ended up putting it up into a messy bun. I rarely wear my hair down.
I threw on a clean pair of skinny jeans, and a long-sleeved emerald-green sweater with some little diamantes along the neckline. My mum bought it for me. After putting on my ballet flats and slicking on some lip gloss, Uncle John was knocking at my door.
I follow Uncle John into the pub, weaving through the throng of people. A lot of people are here, but then I guess Carrick’s a popular guy.
“Hey, you made it. I’ll get you both a drink,” Ben says as we approach him at the bar.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get them,” Uncle John tells him. “Beer?” he checks with Ben.
“Yep.” He lifts his bottle, draining the last of it.
Uncle John turns to me.
“I’ll have a beer, too, please,” I say.
Uncle John leans up against the bar, waiting to be served.
“Did you have a nice dinner?” Ben asks me, pulling my attention to him.
“Yeah, it was good. Thanks. Nice to catch up with Uncle John.”
“How long have you known John?”
“All my life.”
“Cool.” He smiles. “So, how are you finding England? I heard you’re from Brazil.”
“Yeah. Good.” I decide not to regale the fact that I was born and lived here for ten years. “How long have you worked for Rybell?” I ask him.
“Four years.”
“You like it?”
“Love it. It’s long-arse hours and shitty hotel rooms, but I get to see the world, and nothing beats the buzz of race day.”
“I hear you.” I smile.
“Here you go.” Uncle John hands my beer over to me and then gives one to Ben.
“Well, welcome to Rybell.” Ben lifts his bottle to mine, so I chink it against his.
“Thanks.” I take a swig of beer.
Perfect. Just what I needed to pick me up.
“You want me to introduce you to some more of the staff?” Ben asks me. “The rest of the pit crew guys are here and some of Nico’s team along with the front-of-house girls.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
I tell Uncle John where I’m going, and he tells me that he’s going to go find Owen – business to discuss. Uncle John is always working.
I follow behind Ben through the pub to a table in the back. While I’m walking, I glance around for Carrick but no sign yet.
Ben stops before the table. “Everyone, this is Andi, our new mechanic. Not that you’ll remember their names, Andi, but this is Amy, Petra, Damon, Paul, Mike, Davis, and you know Robbie.”
I follow Ben’s finger around the table.
“Hi.” I lift a hand in greeting.
A pretty girl with blonde hair and huge blue eyes, who I think is Petra, gives me a big smile. She’s shorter than me, I’d say, but it’s hard to tell with her sitting down.
“Shove over, Amy. Come and sit down with us,” she says.
I slide onto the bench beside her and put my beer on the table.
“So, you’re from Brazil?” Petra asks me.
I’m guessing Ben must have told her. “I’m from England originally, but I’ve lived in Brazil since I was ten.”
“Wow. You’re so lucky. I would love to live somewhere hot.”
“You spend more than half of the year in hot countries,” the other girl, who I think is Amy, says. “God, I can’t wait to get out to Australia. Never been before.”
“Amy’s newish, like you,” Petra tells me. “Been here a few weeks. She works front-of-house with me.”
“So, you’re the girls to see when I want some really great food.” I smile.
“For sure,” Petra says.
Amy just stares blankly at me, which she’s kind of done from the moment I came over here. I can tell she’s doing that bitchy girl assessment of me. I hate that.
I take another swig of my beer, and I’m thankful when one of the guys asks me a question.
I’m there for a while, chatting, and my beer is quickly empty. I should probably go find Uncle John.
“I’m going to the bar,” I say to no one in particular. “Can I get anyone anything?”
I get a few noes from the ones who were listening around the table. The others luck out because I’m not asking again.
Picking up my bag, I head in the direction of the bar. I’m still surprised that I haven’t seen Carrick yet. The pub doesn’t look to be that big, and he’s not exactly a guy you can miss.
I actually want to wish him a happy birthday, which I failed to do earlier. That was kind of crappy of me.
With no sign of Uncle John or Carrick, I slip into a spot at the bar and wait to be served. I decide on getting a drink and then going to look for Uncle John. He’s probably with Carrick.
I feel him before I hear him.
His heat presses up against my side. “You came.”
Carrick.
Turning to him, I smile. God, he looks good. His eyes are bright, and his cheeks flushed, like he just came in from outside.
“I did. I got here a while ago.”
“Hmm. Did you now?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You should have come and found me.”
“I thought maybe you were busy as you were nowhere to be seen.”
“I was cornered. Couldn’t get away.”
“But you’re free now?”
A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m most definitely free.”
Feeling that tension run over my skin, I look back out at the bar.
“So, Amaro—that’s Brazilian, right?” He leans closer to me.
I slide a glance at him. “Right.”
“Dad told me that you just arrived in today from there.”
“I did.”
God, aren’t I full of the vocab tonight?
“Not to be offensive, but you don’t sound Brazilian. Your accent sounds a little diluted.”
“I’m from England originally. I was born here. My mother’s Brazilian. We moved there when I was ten.”
“Ah, right. Explains the dilution then.” He smiles.
“So, I didn’t wish you a happy birthday earlier,” I say, changing the subject from my history.
“No, you didn’t.” His stare on me is suddenly direct and intense.
“Well…happy birthday,” I say awkwardly.
His stare relaxes, and a smile lifts his eyes. “Thanks.”
“Let me buy you a drink. Beer?” I check, nodding at the bottle in his hand.
“Mmhmm.”
He downs his bottle, and I can’t help but watch his lips around the rim or the way his throat moves as the alcohol slides down.
“What can I get you?” That’s the bartender.
Feeling like I’ve been caught staring at Carrick, my face flames.
“Um, two beers, please.”
The bartender deposits two bottles on the bar just as Carrick puts his empty one down.
I’m digging in my bag for the money to pay when I see Carrick handing a twenty over.
“Hey, I was supposed to buy you a birthday drink.” I frown.
“Call it a welcome-to-the-team drink from me.”
“Well, thank you. But that kind of defeats the purpose of me buying you a birthday drink.”
I lift my bottle to his and chink it, and then I take a drink.
“So, Andi—what’s that short for?” he asks me.
“Andressa.”
I did tell him my full name before in the garage, but clearly, he’s forgotten. Then again, he probably has a lot of women’s names to remember.
“Andressa…” He rolls my name around his mouth.
I love the way it sounds in his Irish l
ilt, the way his tongue rolls on the S. It sends shivers hurtling down my spine.
“Of course, you did tell me earlier. So, why Andi instead of Andressa?”
“Because Andressa is a bit of a mouthful, and it’s just what everyone has always called me.” My dad started calling me Andi. It apparently drove my mum mad until she finally gave in.
Carrick raises his eyes, and I can read the sexual innuendo all over his face.
“A mouthful can be a good thing.” He grins sexily. “Andi is a boy’s name, and you’re far from a boy. No, Andressa…that’s a beautiful woman’s name. It’s perfect for you.”
Oh, he’s good.
I feel him move in even closer to me. My heart starts to beat harder and faster than I’ve ever known it to do before.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Unable to look at his face, I keep my eyes on his chest. “You’re pretty rich in lame pick-up lines.”
“That’s not all I’m rich in.”
As I look up, I see him flash a glance down, causing my eyes to focus on the very prominent bulge in his pants.
Good God.
And that breaks the spell he was weaving over me.
I turn back to the bar, leaning into it, I put my bottle down and rest my elbows on it. “You really shouldn’t talk to me like this.”
He rests his back against the bar, but I can feel his eyes on me. “And how exactly should I talk to you?”
I slide my eyes to his. “Like you would speak to any of your mechanics.”
“How do you know I don’t speak to Ben like this? And Robbie? He and I have something special going on.” He winks cheekily before taking a swig of his beer.
A laugh escapes me.
Cutting it off, I stare ahead. “Seriously, we need to draw a line here. So, let me just lay it out for you—”
“Perfect. Your place or mine?”
“Jesus, can’t you be serious for one minute?”
He angles his body toward mine. “I am being serious.” The tone in his voice screams a totally different kind of serious to mine.
“So am I.” Straightening my spine, I turn to face him. “Exactly how much have you had to drink tonight?”
His brows pull together. “Not enough that I can’t get it up. And even if I was wrecked, I can guarantee I would have no problem getting it up for you.”
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