Shifting Gears

by Audra North

  She looked him in the eye and gently squeezed his arm. “I know you weren’t trying to take advantage. I liked it.” She blushed as she said it, but she had to say it. She didn’t want to leave any doubt in his mind about what had just happened. But then some rebellious part of her made her ask, “Didn’t you?”

  His eyes darkened, and he took a step closer, so small that she wouldn’t have even noticed it if she hadn’t been holding on to him.

  Please. Please kiss me again.

  Her pulse sped up, and under her touch, she felt his body respond, too—a subtle tightening of his skin that rocked through her like a lightning bolt.

  Kiss me kiss me kiss me—

  But then the door flew open, and they sprang apart.

  * * *

  Grady kind of wanted to kill Ranger for interrupting.

  But at the same time, he was grateful.

  If Ranger hadn’t burst in, Grady might have ended up kissing Annabelle again, and that would have been a mistake. Not when there were so many other emotions in the mix. He didn’t want to start something with her right after he’d gotten in a fistfight with a guy who’d been harassing her. They were both too keyed up, but for the wrong reasons.

  It wouldn’t be right.

  He’d meant what he’d said. He wanted to be a better man in every way.

  Ranger’s eyes moved back and forth between Grady and Annabelle, no doubt cataloguing her mussed hair and his unbuttoned shirt and coming to exactly the right conclusion.

  But Ranger didn’t say a word about it. Grady made a mental note to buy the guy a drink later.

  “Fogerty’s gone,” Ranger said. “He took a swing at me but Danny was there by then and he and Bit wrestled the little bastard off. We threw him out. He mouthed off for a little while but didn’t give us any more trouble after that.”

  “Think he’ll sue us?” Grady asked. “I’ll assume full responsibility if so, by the way.”

  Ranger shook his head. “Nah. He’s pulled too much shit with too many people in the industry for his character to stand up in court.” He turned to Annabelle. “But I want to apologize to you on behalf of Hart Racing and for myself, too. I’m sorry that I trusted Fogerty at all and—”

  “Ranger, please.” Annabelle held up a hand. “I don’t want any more attention on this. We have a lot of work to do and this is best left forgotten for more important things.”

  Grady was surprised. She seemed so calm after what had just happened between them, while he was still revved up. But he admired her cool head.

  Ranger nodded. “Fair enough. But for what it’s worth, I am sorry,” he said, and she nodded in acceptance.

  “What about the dyno reports?” Grady asked.

  Ranger’s head swiveled to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

  Seeing as Grady only knew something was up because he’d been eavesdropping, he wasn’t too keen on admitting why he was bringing it up, but Ranger needed to know. It was for the good of the team.

  “I—” he began.

  But Annabelle jumped in. “I was telling Grady earlier, right before the, um, incident—that someone at Blue’s shop—I’m not saying it’s him—but someone changed the parasitics file in the past couple of years to make it look like the car was performing better than it was.”

  Grady’s heart nearly stopped. The parasitics file contained all of the information for how the dynamometer was calibrated when it wasn’t doing anything. They’d been going to Blue for so long that Grady had stopped checking that data. He’d just trusted the guy.

  A hot shaft of anger bolted through his chest.

  The past couple of years, they’d all been busting their asses to keep Hart Racing alive, and someone at Blue’s—he didn’t really give a damn if it wasn’t the man himself because it was still his operation—had been sabotaging their performance. Higher readings meant that they wouldn’t spend time trying to make the engine more powerful, and especially with these new regulations coming down, they needed to be sure that the car was performing at its best.

  To hear that someone had tried to hurt Hart Racing …

  “Motherfucker,” he growled, but then remembered that Annabelle was still right in front of him. “Sorry.”

  But she just nodded and said, “Don’t be sorry. It’s the truth. Whoever did this without telling you is a motherfucker.”

  Damn. Hearing that out of Annabelle’s mouth was unexpected. He’d never heard her say so much as “heck.”

  It made him hot.

  But then, everything about Annabelle was making him hot … and taking his mind off more important things. He needed to put some distance between them, even if only for an hour or two, until he could calm down enough to figure out what to do with her. He’d meant it, before, when he’d told her that he didn’t want to kiss her like that, when it felt like taking advantage of her vulnerability and his jacked-up anger toward Fogerty.

  He was leaving Hart Racing because he wanted to be more. To be better. Letting himself be pulled about by raw emotion wasn’t being a better man.

  Ranger blew out a frustrated breath. “That means we have to redo the testing, and preferably today. What about Guzmán?”

  Grady nodded. “He does have a good reputation. But he’s also far away.” Rick Guzmán had seemed like a great guy when he’d come around here last year, offering to give Hart Racing a free session for trying out his services, but they hadn’t even considered it. At the time, it didn’t make sense to drive all the way out to Raleigh when Blue’s was just half an hour away. Hart Racing might not have had half a million on hand to get a fully outfitted dynamometer in house, but they hadn’t been so hard up that they had to spend nearly three hours on the road each way just to get a little discount.

  That Blue was cheating them changed that.

  Ranger sighed. “Cancel any open sessions with Blue and see if you can set up an emergency thing with Guzmán for Kerri’s car,” he told Annabelle, who nodded. Then he turned back to Grady. “And looks like you’re back on deck now that Fogerty’s gone. I’m sorry that we’ve lost your replacement. I was really hoping that it would work out. I know you haven’t had a lot of opportunity lately to work on your new business.”

  Grady shrugged, trying to keep his shoulders relaxed. He suddenly understood how Annabelle felt when she said she didn’t want any more attention on the matter. He couldn’t think about Carbon Works right now. He had to focus on being crew chief again and bringing Kerri to a win this weekend.

  But Annabelle had another surprise in store. “I’ll do it,” she announced, and both men stared at her in confusion.

  “Do what?” Grady asked.

  “Replacement crew chief. Or assistant. Or whatever you call it. I’ll do it. I mean, if you can spare me.”

  What?

  But before Grady could say anything, Ranger spoke. “Do you have any experience as a crew chief?”

  Annabelle shook her head and two bright pink spots appeared on her cheeks, but just like she had with him, she didn’t look away from Ranger. And this time, there was no fear in her eyes. “Not as a crew chief. But I ran a shop with four employees and I watched a lot of races back in Texas. I know about cars, and I know about racing. I’ve just never had the chance to put them together.”

  Ranger looked at her for a long moment.

  Finally, he nodded. “Okay—”

  Okay?

  “I’ll give you the same terms as Fogerty. Three trial races with Grady as your backup. But before we sign that contract, I’ll need Bit to approve your knowledge and ability as a mechanic, and you’ll need to work with Grady to come up to speed on the cars and managing Kerri and Lee on the track.”

  Grady took a second to tamp down the excitement that shot through him. Three trial races meant three weekends away with Annabelle. Three weekends of working closely together, of sleeping in the same hotel …

  Get your head in the game!

  He shook off the too-arousing thoughts. “What abou
t buy-in from Kerri and Lee?” Grady didn’t want Kerri mouthing off to Annabelle on the track the way she did to him.

  “They’ll support this,” was all Ranger said. “Kerri was telling me earlier that she would rather have someone completely new who she really likes than someone who’s a seasoned crew chief but she can’t stand. And by she I mean we, of course.”

  Annabelle laughed. Seems she had gotten reacquainted with Kerri’s strong personality this past week. And hell, Grady loved the sound of her laugh.

  Ranger grinned and winked at Annabelle. “Besides, a rookie crew chief might be just as helpful in getting to the next level as someone who’s been around the block. The most important thing is being willing to take calculated risks. From everything I’ve seen already, you’re knowledgeable and thorough—you figured out what was going on with the dyno reports—and you keep a cool head in tough situations. If Bit approves you, then you might just be our man. Er, woman.”

  Ranger was right. New blood might work out just as well, if not better, than having a proven crew chief on board, as long as the relationship was solid. Kerri had said something similar to Grady, back when they’d first interviewed Fogerty, hadn’t she? And Kerri was usually right about things like that.

  “In that case, let’s get a move on,” Grady said, and they headed out to take care of business.

  * * *

  Annabelle’s hands shook so much when she picked up the phone to call Guzmán’s garage that she had to set the handset back in the cradle, unable to go through with it right then.

  She’d just volunteered to be crew chief this weekend. That was no small responsibility.

  And she’d done it right after she’d kissed Grady, then he’d rejected her. Well, not quite rejected. Now that she was alone and processing everything that had happened, she realized he’d actually been right about why the kiss had happened in the first place. She’d kissed him as much out of pent-up desire as anger, frustration, and annoyance … at Grady himself.

  At that moment, she’d been so-so angry and humiliated at the way Grady had stepped in and taken over defending her. Yes, he’d protected her and stood up for her, but she wanted to be able to stand on her own.

  She both adored him and hated him for it.

  No. She shook her head. She didn’t hate him. She was just feeling so disappointed in herself. This job was supposed to be her fresh start, her future. What kind of beginning was it to let someone else step in and take control? She hadn’t expected a ruckus like this in her first week on the job.

  And at the same time, she was proud of herself for being brave enough to volunteer for the crew chief job. She hadn’t actually expected Ranger to give her a chance, but he had, and it made her shake with excitement.

  Maybe she should have pushed Grady not to stop. Maybe she should have stepped up then, too, and insisted that he see it through. Whatever this was between them wasn’t going away. But it was almost as though he wasn’t sure of her. Like he thought a part of her didn’t know her own mind. Why else would he have suggested that they take time to calm down first?

  What do you want?

  Nancy Hart’s words echoed in her mind, and she paused, staring at the wall for a moment.

  I want be someone significant. I want to be me, and I want Grady to see me. The real me.

  A real woman.

  So do it! What are you afraid of?

  Grady had just stood up for her. He worked hard and cared about his family. She knew Grady Hart was a good man. But if she told Grady how things were with money and Momma and the way Donnie had up and left her, he might get angry all over again about Fogerty and look at her like he was disappointed in how she’d just let herself be treated so poorly.

  Oh, God.

  That was what she was afraid of. Of losing his respect. Of having him see her as someone weak and foolish.

  Was it too late? Did he already see her that way?

  No. She wasn’t going to let that happen. She wasn’t going to settle for shrinking back into the shadows again. She was going to get what she wanted, just like she went after the crew chief position just now … and got it.

  She wanted Grady Hart and this time she wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way. Especially not herself.

  Chapter 7

  Grady should have been focusing on getting ready for the upcoming race. Or Carbon Works. Or any number of things that needed his attention.

  Instead, all he could think about as he drove to the garage the next morning was the heat between Annabelle legs, and the way she’d felt when she’d arched into his hand.

  I liked it.

  That’s what she’d said to him, after he’d put some distance between them, to be sure that he wasn’t simply reacting to an amped-up situation, even though he’d already known he wasn’t. It was all Annabelle. All about Annabelle. He wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman.

  But he also wanted her to be sure about him. He wanted her to be able to trust him and depend on him to be good to her. It hadn’t been easy to stay away yesterday, but luckily, after the mess with Fogerty, they’d all been swept into the demands of the day, getting the guys started on loading up Kerri’s car for her race this weekend and getting Lee’s truck ready for the trip to Guzmán’s shop in Raleigh, to get retested on the dynamometer.

  By the time he’d gone to Raleigh and back, Annabelle had already gone home, and he hadn’t been sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. But he’d pushed it aside and stayed up late, working at the garage to get the testing done on his muffler. He hadn’t gotten home and into bed until nearly two o’clock that morning, but the tests were done and the muffler was solid.

  Carbon Works had its first product.

  Today, he would put in a few calls to some of the auto manufacturers whom he knew through his racing connections, letting them know he had something ready to launch in the market. Things were moving in earnest now. If a manufacturer took him up on his product and agreed to try it …

  He’d be someone. Finally, a success in his own right.

  If he could just survive wanting Annabelle.

  Last night, as he’d slept, the dreams he had of Annabelle had taken on a much more intense, realistic quality—almost as though now that he’d seen more parts of her that she’d been keeping from him before, his mind was allowing him to think of sex with her as a real possibility. A real, vivid possibility.

  He almost hadn’t been able to shake himself awake when his alarm went off, but he hadn’t even given a second of a fuck. The Annabelle of that dream fantasy had been worth it. But he wanted the real, flesh-and-blood version.

  I liked it.

  He exited off the highway, the words beating through his brain in time to something so primal and intense that he didn’t think he could bear it. He wanted her. In every way, in every position, rough and gentle and fast and slow.

  Didn’t you?

  God, yes. He’d liked it too much.

  What would happen if he got involved with Annabelle? Did he even have the time to devote to her, between work and work and—well, work? Thoughts of her already intruded far too frequently, and that kiss had nearly made him forget about everything he’d done and worked for in the past few years, as though it was so easy to erase.

  He shut his eyes. That wasn’t right. But no matter what he wanted to think, he couldn’t argue with the fact that, when he’d kissed her, he hadn’t been able to think of anything except the wet heat of her mouth. He could have kissed her for hours and not wanted anything more than her lips on his, her breath with his breath …

  Aw, hell. Back to mooning over Annabelle.

  I liked it. Didn’t you?

  Yes. He liked it. And he liked her. What he knew of her, anyway.

  When he turned into the parking lot of Hart Racing, Annabelle’s car was already parked near the door. He got out of his truck and headed toward the garage entrance, something tight and excited building in his limbs. He was almost running by the tim
e he opened the main door.

  But when he walked in, what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

  Holy shit.

  Annabelle.

  She was wearing coveralls. Not just jeans or something that wasn’t a skirt.

  Coveralls.

  It had only been a day since he’d seen her. Less than that. Had the Apocalypse happened in Charlotte and he’d somehow missed it? She was leaning over the engine of that old sedan that his mom had given him to run tests on, for when he had his carbon parts ready to go.

  For a moment, all he could do was stand there and stare, dumbfounded, at her beautiful, rounded ass right in front of him.

  He could see the lines of her panties through the fabric of the coveralls. Which probably meant she wasn’t wearing anything except her underwear beneath them. His cock got hard so quickly that he nearly fainted from the rush of blood from one head to the other.

  But he didn’t look away. He kept staring at her like this, imagining opening the zipper in the front of her coveralls, revealing her beautiful breasts, her warm, soft skin—

  “Good morning, Grady.” Annabelle had straightened up as he’d been daydreaming about exposing her, and she was now looking at him with an amused expression.

  He couldn’t help it. His jaw dropped.

  Her bright red hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail and she wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup. She looked fresh and happy and, along with those snug coveralls, the look revved his engine ever harder than the silk blouses and flowy skirts she usually wore. In fact, it hit him in that moment that she looked more like herself wearing the thick canvas one-piece jumpsuit than she ever had in dresses and makeup.

  She frowned a little, probably puzzled by his silence, but … hot damn. He was nearly choking on his tongue at the moment and it wasn’t exactly conducive to speech.

  “Rough night? How was Guzmán’s yesterday?” She gentled her voice like she thought he had a hangover or something.

  God, don’t do that.

  The soft, low tones of her voice made him think of her moaning against his mouth in the darkness as he fucked into her, pushing hard and hot. She said something else, but he was having a hard time hearing her past the bloodbeat in his brain. Take. Want. Mine.