Falling Free ( Falling Fast #3)

by Tina Wainscott

  Like Tanner had.

  The car, Grace. Focus on the friggin’ car.

  Tanner had been right to insist that she drive lots of different cars. The ones she thought she wanted were boring. She had a feeling her life was going to be boring without him in it.

  But wasn’t that inevitable?

  She pulled back into the lot, where Tanner was leaning against a Corvette next to the salesman, chatting away as though they were best friends. His gaze was on her, though, as she killed the engine and stepped out of the Mustang.

  “I’d like to discuss the terms,” she said, pulling her attention to Michael. “For possibly buying the car.”

  “After I check it out,” Tanner said. He popped the hood and leaned into the engine. Pulling on this, pushing on that. She watched, thinking of how he’d shown her the fine art of changing the oil.

  She didn’t deserve his help now. She’d hurt him, and that was at the base of his anger at her. Totally understandable.

  What wasn’t understandable was how she drank him in, the way the sun glinted on his dark-blond hair, lighting up some strands to spun gold. The sculpted curves of his pecs and the bulge of his biceps as he twisted off the oil cap and checked the dipstick. She had touched that body, had her mouth on a lot of that golden skin. A sigh rolled out of her mouth, and she swallowed it back. She’d never felt so good, so right, with a man before. Weirdly, terrifyingly, not even with the man she thought she loved.

  Tanner started the engine and leaned back under the hood and revved it somehow. Making love with him hadn’t sated her need at all; it had only increased her longing.

  “It’s nice to have a knowledgeable friend check out your car for you,” Michael said, making her realize that he’d been standing there beside her all this time.

  He didn’t have a Yeah, saw you totally checking out your so-called friend’s ass look on his face, but he was probably thinking it.

  “It is.” Way too nice.

  Then she noticed that Michael was watching Tanner in the same way she was. He flushed when he turned and saw that she’d caught him.

  “You said that you were friends in a very deliberate way,” he said in a near-whisper. “That’s not because he’s—”

  “No, sorry. He’s straight.”

  “Too bad.” Michael shook his head, regret painted over his expression.

  Tanner slid beneath the car as though he’d done it a thousand times, probably because he had. His shirt dragged up as he scooted back out, showing the ridges of his stomach. He hopped to his feet, tugged his shirt down, and strolled over, oblivious of all the admiration aimed his way. It almost made her laugh.

  “Looks good,” he said to both of them, and she couldn’t help exchanging a bemused glance with Michael.

  “That’s what we thought,” she said. “I mean, figured.” Before he could question her gaffe, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms over his shoulders. “Thanks.” And, in a whisper, “I’m sorry.” She quickly stepped back. “I can handle this. Michael’s going to give me a good deal, right?” She winked at him, which reminded her of Tanner’s winks. God, she’d miss them. Him. “Go on back to the track. I know you have things to do. You don’t need me holding you up any longer.”

  He had automatically put his arms around her waist when she hugged him, and they remained lightly there. “You sure?” The question seemed to hold much more than just his leaving her there to negotiate.

  “Absolutely.”

  He nodded with the conviction of someone who’d gotten the answer he wanted. With a wave to Michael, he walked to the T-bird, slid behind the wheel, and donned his sunglasses. The wind blew his hair into disarray as he pulled away.

  “You’re right.” Michael shook his head. “So not gay. And you two are so not just friends.”

  “Can we focus on the good deal you’re going to give me and the extra charges you’re not going to stick me with?”

  “Sure, hon. But let me give you some advice, no extra charge: don’t let him get away.”

  “I don’t have him.”

  “Sure, you do. Come on, let’s go inside and haggle.”

  She didn’t want to know why Michael was so sure. She had the insane urge to tell him everything, but this sympathetic stranger would soon know her name, address, and driver’s license number.

  Why is it that you’re more willing to open up to a stranger than to a man who cares about you?

  But she wasn’t about to open up to anyone. She’d learned long ago that if she didn’t open up no one could betray her trust. And admitting to Tanner that she’d deceived him—that was a classic self-sabotage maneuver. She should be happy it worked.

  So why wasn’t she?

  Chapter 11

  Tanner ran their entire night through his mind on the drive back to Chambliss. To analyze it, nothing more. What had he done and said, thinking she was drunk? If he had taken advantage of that, or began to, she would have been the angry one. But no, she’d tortured him only to test him.

  Yet he couldn’t really dredge up that flash of anger he’d felt when she confessed. He knew where she came from, had dwelled in those shadows himself.

  Isn’t that why you drift from place to place? Why you never go to the apartment that you call your residence but not a home?

  There were things that he hadn’t told her, either. And the information she wanted about the source of his money, well, he’d told her the truth. She just hadn’t believed any of his answers. Another indication of her deep-seated distrust.

  There was no point in convincing her of anything, because he didn’t have forever to offer. She wouldn’t let him promise to keep in touch, and hell, that’s not what she needed, some guy who’d call and Skype and text from all over. Phone sex wasn’t going to cut it. Grace needed someone who’d be there. Who’d prove his worthiness of her heart week after week, month after month, year after year. A man who’d hold her every night the way he’d held her last night. And, damn, she’d felt right in his arms.

  Felt like forever.

  He roared into the speedway’s entrance, gunning the engine. Birdie had some balls. Like her former owner.

  He visually cleared the track before pulling onto it and running the oval a couple of times. Opening her up. Even smoking the tires a little.

  Pax stepped out of the garage and shaded his eyes as he watched. The guy was hooked on drift, no doubt about it. Tanner grinned. The more, the merrier. And Pax, he was a good guy. Tanner liked him.

  He rolled to a stop near the garage, where Raleigh slammed down the hood of the Scion he was working on for someone Tanner had referred to him. Hooligan was an up-and-comer, a cocky but nice guy who reminded Tanner of himself at twenty. Raleigh was a great mechanic with an instinct for engines. They were a good match. Tanner spent a little time educating Raleigh on the drifting requirements, which were a bit more than just speed.

  “Where’s Grace?” Pax asked. “If you’re just getting back from PCB, the car shopping must have gone, ah, pretty well.”

  Tanner knew they weren’t being nosy just to hear the details of his weekend. They wanted to know if he and Grace had done things that might break her heart when he left. He kept a neutral face. “It went great. I made her try a bunch of different cars, like one of those tiny shopping carts, a monster truck, and a classic muscle car. She ended up falling for a Mustang GT.”

  “Is that all she fell for?” Raleigh asked with an arched brow.

  He, in particular, seemed to be most protective of Grace. Tanner might have thought the guy had feelings for her, but he’d seen Raleigh and Mia together, and they were way too in love for any stray thoughts. Then he remembered that Grace had saved his ass from a murder rap.

  “Yep. She took the car home, and I decided to stay the night, hit some bars.”

  They seemed to take the answer at face value. Or they were too polite to call him on it.

  Raleigh patted the roof of the Scion. “Want to test the FR-S for your buddy, see if it
’s hitting the sweet spot? Since I’m not exactly sure what the drifting sweet spot is.”

  “You bet. Ride with me. I can point out some of the things drift drivers are going to want in a car, give you a feel for it.”

  “Sure.”

  Raleigh was a die-hard drag racer, and, like many regular racers, he didn’t have a lot of respect for drifting. Yet. But, being a professional, he wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to learn something new, and to be sure this car was exactly where his customer wanted it.

  Tanner retrieved his helmet from his car, and Raleigh grabbed his from a cabinet in the garage.

  Knowing Hooligan, he’d have some rockin’ tune-age loaded into the stereo system. Tanner turned it on, and Papa Roach’s “Last Resort” pounded from the speakers.

  “If Pax starts running Pro-Am drift events here, you could score a lot of clients. You gotta shift your attitude about drifting, though.”

  Raleigh dropped into the passenger seat and expertly clipped the harness. “I just don’t get it. Nothing personal. And now that Pax has a hard-on for it, I’m finding it more annoying. But hey, I’m willing to keep an open—”

  Tanner took off, shift, shift, shift…slide.

  Raleigh gripped the door, stiffly listing to the right with the force of the first drift. Tanner checked his smile as they slid ass-backward toward the wall. The only time regular racers slid this way was when they were out of control. But this, baby, this was drifting. For the first time since he met Grace, he felt in control again.

  Tanner knew exactly when to bring the car out, then took the next clip and slid so close to the center barrier that they could hear it whoosh by. Raleigh leaned forward now as they spun a three-sixty, taking it all in—with a smile on his face.

  Tanner spun the car around and shot in the opposite direction. The hot summer air filtered in through the windows, cooling the sweat on the back of his neck. Speed, wind, torque—this was life. Simple, satisfying, and, mostly, predictable. Who needed complications like one particular dark-haired, brown-eyed woman?

  Tanner spun the car around in front of the garage and killed the engine.

  Raleigh lifted off his helmet and shook out his hair. “Shit.”

  Tanner grinned. “Yeah. That’s what I said the first time I rode with someone.” He got out of the car and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Sucked it down in three gulps. No need to rub it in with an “I told you so.”

  He and Pax ran some tandems, refining the course for Friday. Later, they sat up in the tower looking out over the course and making adjustments on paper.

  “The website’s up and running, with DRIFT FOR A CAUSE on the front page,” Pax said. “And all over our Facebook page. We’ve already had eighteen people sign up, and more than a dozen more inquiries. This is going to happen. Our first real event, and it’s growing every day.”

  Tanner smiled at Pax’s enthusiasm. “Jenni’s spreading the word on my social-media pages. So is Kids at Risk.”

  “The Alliance is doing shout-outs and signing up their peeps to help. My sister Janey’s psyched. That was a great idea, making it into a benefit.”

  “Some people will come to support the nonprofits, some to check out drifting, and some just to drift. It’s all good.”

  Pax took in his track, probably imagining crowds, applause. Success. “It’s going to be awesome.”

  Tanner remembered how he’d dreamed of succeeding at drifting, and then when he’d earned his place on the pro circuit. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next. He’d been at the top of his game for the past two years. Keeping to a strict schedule and fitting in the fun events when he could. He’d been feeling a need for change, and resisting it. Telling himself that his life was perfect. But watching Pax build his dream with his love had dulled the shine of Tanner’s fool’s gold.

  He glanced at the clock. “Where do folks play softball in town?”

  “Softball? Dunno, maybe Chambliss Park, south part of town. They have fields there. You itching to jump in on a game?”

  Tanner scoffed. “I probably couldn’t hit a softball to save my life. Grace said something about watching a game. Thought I might swing over.”

  He hadn’t thought about it at all, not the actual going part, anyway. He’d thought a lot about seeing her, letting her know that he wasn’t angry, even if he was. A little. He couldn’t leave things the way they were, though. Because, once again, the thought of never seeing her chewed away at his gut. They wouldn’t make love again. He didn’t want her to think that was all he was interested in now that they’d crossed that line. Besides, he didn’t think he could touch her, hold her naked body against his, bury himself inside her again, without things getting way complicated.

  All right, they already were. Especially for him.

  Pax scribbled directions on a scrap of paper. “This should get you there. See you tomorrow.”

  “This won’t be an overnight visit.”

  Especially if she was watching some guy play, which would make it awkward as hell.

  “I wasn’t implying that it would be,” Pax said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, because I’m leaving in a few. I have a hot date tonight. Gemma’s packing a picnic, and we’re going fishing on my boat.”

  “Nice,” Tanner said. It did sound nice. Nice like…heaven nice. “Guess I don’t have to tell you to have fun.”

  “We have that covered.” With a wink, Pax left.

  What would it be like, having a woman waiting at home? Well, first he’d have to have an actual home and not an RV. And the woman, of course.

  For the first time, he let himself imagine that—cooking dinner together, planning the future. Vacations. Kids. Normally, the idea of that would have seemed foreign, uncomfortable. Right then, it was interesting. And the woman he was doing it with…Grace.

  Grace, he reminded himself, who couldn’t trust him. Or herself.

  He found the park and then found her new Mustang. She’d looked nice in it. Better than nice, she’d looked hot. Right.

  The same way she’d looked beneath him.

  Shit, he needed to stay focused. He parked not far from her car and searched the four fields. Not a men’s league but preteen girls. Relief flooded through him. Of course, she could be sitting next to the father of one of those girls. But he was pretty sure Grace wasn’t involved with any guy. Because of her trust issues, and beyond that, she was way too loyal to have been in bed with Tanner.

  In fact, the more he considered his fears, the more unlikely they became. Which confirmed that he was experiencing irrational jealousy. A crazy thought.

  He looked for her among the crowds of families shouting encouragement or advice. And one mouthy dude who clearly thought he was a bleacher coach. Tanner found Grace sitting in the home team’s bleachers, at the end of the bench by herself. Just that pricked at his chest, but it fit the woman he knew. He hovered at the rear opposite end of the bleachers, leaning his shoulder against the end cap. People noticed him immediately. A glance, a whisper, and then two glances. Three. They’d wonder if he was some perv eyeing the girls, maybe. Except that if they paid attention they’d see that he was watching someone in the cheering section a lot more.

  But that, too, could cause problems for the object of his attention. Yeah, he could see the small-town dynamic Grace had talked about. She said she’d worked hard to build her reputation, had in fact mentioned it a few times. The last thing she needed was these moms whispering about the strange dude hanging around.

  He settled on the bench, leaning back, just chilling. Or pretending to as he sneaked peeks at Grace. Occasionally one of the moms said something to her, and Grace sometimes made a comment to them about their kid’s achievement. She was one of them, and then again, not quite. She cheered as every girl came to bat, but there was one in particular who changed the expression on her face.

  Mollie got into batting position to the shouts of her teammates and the parents. She was a beautiful young woman, taller than the other girls, wi
th dark hair and blue eyes. The kid was good, too, swinging with perfect form and shooting the ball into the outfield. Grace lit up, her hand splayed to her chest, her mouth in a soft smile. For just that moment, her heart lit her face before she lowered her hand and sat up a little straighter.

  He watched Grace when Mollie stole third base. Then when she screamed past the home plate. Grace made the same gestures as before, just for a second. She didn’t do it for the other girls, only cheered them on.

  He rubbed his hand over his mouth as another piece of this maddeningly complex, damaged woman fell into place.

  That’s when she looked over at him. Her surprise was adorable, like when she’d first seen him at the track—the twist of pleasure and trepidation. Now she’d really think he was stalking her. And he supposed he was. He gave her a subtle shake of his head, to indicate that he’d stay there and not raise any speculation.

  He suspected, though, that her curiosity was stronger than her sense of preservation, because she nodded for him to join her. He came around to her side and settled back, elbows planted on the bench behind him. Next to her, but not too close. Not enough to set tongues wagging. Real casual like. He wondered if they knew what he’d figured out.

  She leaned closer and murmured, “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you, and I still don’t have your number.”

  “You could have gotten it from Raleigh or Pax.”

  “I doubt it. I told you, they’re pretty protective of you.” He didn’t want to talk to her on the phone anyway.

  Warmth teased at the corners of her mouth. “That’s nice to know, though I’ve given them no reason to feel that way.”

  Maybe they sense the vulnerability in you that I’ve seen. But of course he couldn’t voice that. “Because you’re worth protecting.”

  She waved that off. “Raleigh just feels grateful because I represented him on some trumped-up charges.”

  “And you fought like a bulldog for him, I bet.”

  “Of course.”

  He wanted to brush a lock of hair over her shoulder and ask if anyone had ever fought for her. He had a feeling he knew the answer, and that it would gut him. “That makes sense. He’s very loyal to you. They all care about you.”