Fast Lane

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Fast Lane Page 5

by Margot Radcliffe


  “Now I know you’re lying,” she laughed. “Golf is the only thing my brother isn’t good at.”

  “I’m not much for parties anymore,” he tried instead, “and especially ones where I don’t know anyone and where everyone there wears a watch worth more than the house I grew up in.”

  “Why did you go to the party at all then?”

  He raised an eyebrow. They both knew why he’d gone.

  She sighed then, seeming to have made a decision. Then she let go of his hand, climbed the stairs and disappeared into her house, the squeak of the screen door loud in the quiet evening. Cole wasn’t sure if he was meant to follow her, but just as he was about to call her name, she reappeared with a wineglass, another bottle of wine and a very large bowl of popcorn.

  Tilting her head for him to join her, he noticed an open bottle and half-full wineglass already on the wicker table in front of her. There were several seats he could take but he opted to sit next to her on the two-seater.

  “What are we drinking?” he asked, peering down to read the label.

  “It’s next year’s first bottling of zinfandel.”

  “And?” he asked, interested in how she felt about her own wine and excited to try something no one else had had yet. It felt like a secret they were sharing together here on a world-class vineyard where people would kill to be in his place.

  “It’s pretty lovely. Lots of cherry, lots of pepper but it feels balanced.” She gave her glass a swirl and he decided he could watch her drink wine for hours.

  She poured him a glass and watched as he drank. “I like it,” he eventually said. “Definitely less intense than the one we had in the pairing yesterday, but I liked that one too.”

  Laughing, Blair dug into the bowl of popcorn. “Yeah, that’s how most people feel. People take all that sniffing and flavors so seriously. The truth is that it’s just fun to see what all you can taste in a single sip of wine but ultimately you’ll have fun drinking it either way.”

  She pushed the bowl of popcorn toward him and he took a handful, mostly to be polite and to have something else to do with his hands besides touch her, which he was already missing.

  “So you quit racing after the accident?” she asked, meeting his eyes.

  He nodded, reluctant to share but finding that he didn’t feel as reticent as he usually did. He wasn’t worried that Blair would go tell the press what he said or hold anything against him. He didn’t know if he’d ever find the absolution he’d been searching for, but after two years he couldn’t say he was picky. Most days he’d give anything to wake up without the gnawing pit of guilt and sadness the loss of his brother and the resulting rift between him and his family had left in his life. One that up until now he’d had little hope of ever filling. But for whatever reason, the moment he’d stepped into that winery and seen Blair trying to hide a plate of cheese, a light had turned on inside him, giving him hope that maybe one day he’d see himself out of the darkness. Then learning she had her own demons to contend with, he just felt more comfortable with her than even his old friends.

  “I quit racing after the accident,” he acknowledged. “I don’t know how much you know about Formula One racing but it’s different than NASCAR. Two drivers from each team drive together during a round. So my brother and I were basically partners, both trying to nudge the other up in the ranks to get more points for the team as a whole. He wanted to retire that year but I made him keep going.” He met her eyes, wanting to see her face free of judgment before he told her the whole ugly truth of himself. “And then he died on the track all because I wasn’t ready to give up the lifestyle.”

  A corner of Blair’s mouth tugged downward and he steeled against his own disappointment. But then she said, “You’re too smart to blame yourself for your brother’s death, Cole.” His heart beat again. “But I can tell you do and while I have wished death by fire upon you, I have to say that if your brother was anything like you, if he’d wanted something badly enough he would have done it, not let you push him into continuing to race instead.”

  Cole opened his mouth to disagree except that she was probably right about that. But it didn’t mean anything because Cole had been seriously persuasive when Scott had brought up retiring, and like Cole himself would have done for him, Scott would have done anything for Cole. Which had ultimately led to his own death and left Cole picking up the pieces of his life, while trying to rebuild his broken family.

  “Yeah, well, the rest of my family doesn’t seem to think so,” he said wryly, taking a hefty drink of wine. “So maybe you could shoot them a friendly email for me and plead my case.”

  Blair’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? They don’t talk to you?”

  “They do, they do,” Cole assured, not wanting her to get the wrong idea or paint himself as too much of a martyr. He was, after all, the villain of his own life. At least as far as his family was concerned. “I was always the outcast of the family. So when they knew Scott wanted to retire and come back home to Louisiana they were thrilled, but then when I talked him out of it they were already upset that I’d committed us to another year of traveling nonstop. Then when it ultimately resulted in his death, you can imagine how they felt.”

  Blair took his hand then and he felt guilty for liking it so much. Guilty that he was getting the thing that he wanted all because he was sharing the story of his shame. “But you want to open a winery at home,” Blair said, thoughtful. “So you’re trying to mend fences with them.”

  Cole scrubbed at the back of his neck, uncomfortable with all the talk about his life. “They’re not mad. Things just aren’t the same. Like, they love me like they always did, but for my parents it’s clouded by the loss of their son, and for my sister, her brother. Time is what it’ll take to heal, but I intend to do what I can to smooth it along so we can be a happy family again.” He’d already bought his parents and his sister new houses, new cars, beach vacations—anything he thought might make amends, but even after two years things just didn’t feel the same. The truth was without Scott, things would always be different, Cole just hoped that one day it wouldn’t feel like his fault anymore. “I thought maybe I’d start a winery as a way to move home and try to rebuild the family.”

  “Well, if you need hands-on help, I’m happy to send Nate with you to Louisiana. I could really use a vacation from him around here,” she said, thankfully lightening the mood. “Last week he made me post an informational video on fermentation on social media. As if that’s what I want to be doing with my time.” She rolled her eyes and he smiled. “Creating content.”

  “I’d love to see you talk about fermentation.”

  Blair rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how you made that sound perverted, but you really have a gift for that kind of thing.”

  “You won’t be surprised to hear that I’ve heard that before too,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze and at the same time pulling her forward a little. She raised an eyebrow, knowing what he was up to, but letting him get away with it. “Thank you for offering me your brother. I think after dealing with you he’d be counting his blessings to have me as a sibling.”

  “You’re probably right,” she admitted, holding back laughter.

  They were close now. He could feel her breath on the side of his neck and he wanted to lean forward and kiss her but thought better of it. The anticipation was good for now—let her think nothing was going to happen.

  She reached out and took another sip of the wine and when she started to put the glass back on the table he took it from her hand instead, turned the glass to where the print of her lipstick was and drank from the same place. Watching her the entire time, he saw her eyes grow darker and then her frown appear. It was clear she was going to fight him to the end.

  He placed the glass back on the table with a gentle click. “I know you don’t want to get involved, but I’m leaving tomorrow and who knows when I
’ll be back. So honestly, what’s the harm in having a little fun, Blair?” Taking her other hand in his, he continued, “After all you’ve had to deal with, don’t you think you deserve some no-strings-attached fun for once?”

  The look she gave him was bland and he knew he was laying it on thick, but now that the idea had taken root he was loath to let it go. Two years of celibacy did that to a person. This was the most he’d felt around a woman since his brother’s death. He’d tried to get back in the saddle, so to speak, even had taken women back to his hotel room before ultimately realizing that he couldn’t do it and sending them away. Maybe it was because Blair was so unlike the party girls who followed racing and looked at him with just a little bit of pity for his loss or how his family looked at him, like he was the person responsible for his brother’s death. Blair already made him feel like he had a purpose other than being a race car driver and that maybe just he, Cole, was enough to interest someone.

  Which is why he laid all his cards on the table.

  “I haven’t told anyone that my brother wanted to retire but I told you because—” he shrugged, unable to articulate the feeling of ease he’d felt with her instantly “—I guess I trust you.” He took a deep breath. “So I might also go ahead and admit that I haven’t slept with anyone for two years. And not because I haven’t had the opportunity, but because I haven’t been interested.”

  Their eyes met but he had absolutely no idea how to read the expression on her face. He nearly grinned at the fact that he was working so hard to get a woman in bed. Past him would be laughing his fucking ass off. Present him, however, was too focused on, if nothing else, her joining him in a little fun where they could both forget all their shitty problems, whatever hers were, and enjoy each other. Future him, that poor bastard, was the one who needed to worry because if he looked too closely into why he was breaking his extended celibacy after all this time, he might have to admit that he might be interested in Blair for more than sex.

  “And it’s as much of a shock to me as anything, but I’m into you, Blair. A lot.” He sighed, his gaze drifting away from hers before returning as he said, “After two years, it’s you.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  BLAIR WASN’T AN exceptionally chatty person on the best of days, so while it wasn’t shocking that she didn’t respond to Cole right away, she did have to admit that she wanted to say something to him after he’d revealed his not sleeping with anyone for two years. And that she was the one who had finally compelled him to want to do so.

  That was a lot of responsibility for one taciturn viticulturist to handle. The mountain of expectations that would accompany sleeping with someone after such a long dry spell was crushing! But the expectations weren’t the problem. Not really. The problem was her and the fact that she was probably still a little broken. If she’d thought she was improving, she had only to look to tonight and the fact that she’d had to bail on the party because she’d seen a mutual acquaintance of her ex and hadn’t been able to bear the brunt of the shame. Had the man known her ex was married and thought Blair was fine with betraying another woman? She didn’t know and she hadn’t been about to stick around and find out.

  “I’m sorry, what?” she eventually got out. She thought of the pages and pages of Google images of Cole with different women on his arm and was still astounded by two years of celibacy. Taking his previous playboy lifestyle into account, this was a man who had taken himself off the market in a very serious way.

  A corner of his wide mouth quirked and she liked that he was always so quick to smile even though she knew now it hid so much. For knowing a person for only two days she already felt closer to him than to people she’d known for years, knew what it was like to loathe oneself.

  “I haven’t felt like it,” Cole said with a shrug. “It’s just not something I’ve wanted to do, but I like you, Blair. I don’t know how chemistry works but we definitely have it and I’d say that’s pretty rare.”

  “So you want to sleep together, leave tomorrow and never see each other again?” she clarified for posterity’s sake.

  His eyes widened, shocked that she’d put it so bluntly, she guessed. “It doesn’t mean that we won’t ever see each other again, but I’m on the road a lot so I couldn’t be certain about when the next time would be.”

  As a rule, Blair wasn’t really a one-night stand type of person, but she had to admit it had crossed her mind yesterday. And today she’d woken up wondering why she hadn’t just agreed to dinner with him. She’d had fun yesterday and in trying to remember if she’d ever had that much fun with anyone she’d dated, she’d come up empty. She didn’t deserve it, probably, but it didn’t mean she didn’t want it.

  One thing would stop things dead in their tracks, however. “How can I be sure you’re not married?”

  The way Cole’s head shot back so quickly was comical and she thought he’d given himself a mild case of whiplash, but then he choked out, “Trust me, I am not married. I have never been married, and at the rate I was going before, I’ll never be married.”

  Not exactly a good attitude for a life partner, but a fine one for someone she’d never have to see again. In that respect, Cole was ideal. They could hook up and there’d be no awkward run-ins at the grocery store, no gossip circulating to the other vintners in the area, no expectation of seeing each other again. And bonus, if the sex was awful, he was leaving and she wouldn’t have to pretend to let him down easy.

  Except she was pretty positive sex with Cole would be anything but awful.

  But apparently he had more to say. “Nor, if I was married, by the way, would I cheat on my partner, which is another reason I haven’t gotten married. However, if you’d like to be sure, you can check the marriage records. You won’t find my name in their database.”

  Blair wasn’t unmoved by his speech and the earnestness in which it had been delivered, but she wasn’t going to be fooled again so she did a quick search on her phone as he watched in amusement.

  “Darling, you can search the marriage records for all fifty states and the world, but you’re not going to find my name anywhere. Plus, you could do a general internet search for me and marriage and still come up empty. And that’s how you really know. You’d better believe if I went to the trouble of getting married, I’d blast that news all over the tabloids and beyond. Cole Taggart Finally Loses His Mind, the headlines would say, and the picture would just be me with a white veil tied around my neck like a noose.”

  Blair rolled her eyes at his nonsense, but he did have a good point. Someone in the public eye as he was would have definitely made the news with a marriage. Nevertheless, she did a couple more marriage record searches as well as a couple of Google searches to be sure and came up with nothing. Meanwhile, he continued to munch on popcorn and drink wine, his eyes never leaving her.

  “I pity the woman you do finally end up marrying,” she told him, her tone beyond bland. “Not only will she have to deal with you but you’ll also just keep reminding her every five minutes how much of a favor you’re doing her.”

  “I suppose if I ever meet a woman with enough bolts loose to agree to marry me, I’ll do my best to shape up. My parents are still happily married, after all. Thirty-seven years and still counting. So if I thought my life could ever settle down I might consider it.”

  “I’ll believe that you’re not married but how do I know you don’t have a girlfriend or fiancée somewhere?” Admittedly, Blair felt embarrassingly paranoid asking but she absolutely would not do that to another woman again. She’d learned that it was on her to check the men she slept with. Relying on males to tell the whole truth when the possibility of sex was on the table was like asking a kid to put a cookie back once their hand was already in the jar.

  Cole reached for her hand. “Blair, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I haven’t had sex and/or even laid a hand on a woman since the day my brother died.”
/>   Blair sighed. Maybe it was enough that she’d done her due diligence, contacting family members sounded a step too far. After all, at some point she’d need to trust her instincts again.

  “I believe you,” she finally said. “And yesterday after you cried when I refused to have dinner with you, my search on you was pretty extensive and there wasn’t a mention of marriage.”

  “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar,” he said. Cole took her hand in his and her eyes fluttered, wanting to close at the heated contact. He was just so big and warm and there and like a breath of fresh, uncomplicated air in a life that had gotten far too complicated. “Look, I know something shitty happened with an ex, but I promise you that I would never try to screw over the person I’ve had the most fun with in a long damned time.”

  “I had fun too,” she admitted with a wry smile. “Despite my better judgment.”

  “Well, that’s not the first time someone has liked me in spite of knowing better,” Cole laughed. “But why don’t you think of me as the loaf of bread you made me eat between wines yesterday. A good palate cleanser before you start your next serious relationship. I’m a carb, which means I’m delicious to eat but too much of a good thing isn’t smart, but singularly perfect for a one-night indulgence.”

  Blair laughed because how could she not? The man was charming and he would be as good as the freshly baked bread they had delivered to the winery every day that she made herself not eat.

  But she deserved bread, damn it. Everyone deserved bread sometimes, in fact!

  She probably should just go ahead and stuff her face. Yes, she’d regret it a little tomorrow but not enough to stop her from having it again in the future.

  “Drink the rest of your wine,” she ordered, because they did not waste wine on this vineyard. Except in the spit buckets, but even then it hurt her a little because she’d grown those grapes, lovingly watched over them and the soil beneath, saw them through the fermentation process, all the way to the uncorking. It was necessary to spit sometimes, but the pragmatist in her was too strong not to feel a tinge of regret.

 

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