“He’s not that kind of dangerous. Your mother is afraid of him, but only because he represents a time in her life she wants to forget. McKenna would be in no danger. In fact, she might be the key to smoothing everything over. An invitation to an engagement party would be an excuse to invite Dominic rather than wait for him to arrive on his own.”
“I’ll go to Montalcino, but there’s no way I’m asking McKenna to get involved in this.”
“If she is the one, this might be her only chance to meet Nona. Every year she’s with us is a gift.”
I started toward the door. “That’s low, Dad, and I am not that easy to manipulate.”
“Call me when she says yes.”
“Not going to ask her,” I called over my shoulder as I made my way out of the kitchen. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. My mother hadn’t reappeared. I wanted to go to her and tell her I would fix all of this and that everything would be okay.
But I’d never lied, and I had no idea how this was going to play out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MCKENNA
Late Saturday morning I had just stepped out of my coveralls when my phone beeped with a text message. Morning Mack.
I smiled. It hadn’t taken me long at all to become addicted to hearing from Christof. Since I’ve never had a man name a car after me, I can’t decide if calling me Mack is a compliment or not.
I could call you honey.
Or you could keep your testicles. During our last long phone conversation, I’d told him about Ty’s practice of calling all of his dates that.
Not every woman can work a testicle threat into a conversation. I like your style.
I decided it was best to change the subject. How was breakfast?
Amazing. Overshadowed, though, by an interesting conversation I had with my parents.
About what?
This is one of those stories that is better saved for when you know me and my parents better so we can laugh about it without you thinking we’re all crazy.
He’d brought it up, so he obviously wanted to tell me, but I let that slide for now. More important was the fact that his plans for us included me getting to know his parents. Men had said something similar to me in the past, but it had always been a line—a carrot dangled in hopes that it would get them laid faster. When Christof said it, it felt sincere. Ty says he wants to meet you before we go anywhere.
I’m fine with that.
He might threaten your life.
Hard to scare a man with older brothers. He doesn’t plan to tickle me until I piss myself, does he? I’d much rather be punched.
I laughed out loud. I’ll pass along your preference to him.
Are you free tonight? I could drive up. We could grab dinner somewhere.
I inhaled sharply, gripped my phone, and walked to the garage office, where Ty was ending a business call. As soon as he was free, I said, “Christof wants to come see me tonight.”
Ty moved to sit on one side of his desk. “Are you asking my permission, or do you need a refresher talk about how things work?”
I rolled my eyes and paced his office. “What’s wrong with me, Ty?” I gave my belly a pat. “I have a nervous, queasy feeling in my stomach. My hands are sweaty. My heart is racing.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Your dad got like that before a race sometimes. It’s how he knew he’d win.”
“This isn’t about sex, Ty.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t say it was. You’re talking to someone who used to burp you, McKenna. This guy is different. What are you afraid of?”
I sat heavily in the closest chair. “I am afraid. Holy shit, since when is this me?”
“Since you met a man who might matter?”
I was back on my feet, pacing again. “He can’t matter yet. All we’ve done is talk on the phone. For all I know I won’t even be attracted to him when I see him again. Oh my God, what if I’m getting attached to a man I won’t want to have sex with?”
“Slow down there. You don’t find him attractive?”
“I did. That doesn’t change, right? It’s just that . . . he’s different from the men I’ve dated. He’s so—real. More real than I’ve been with him. We’ve talked for hours and hours, but I let him think I’m a mechanic with a small shop. What if he comes up here and seeing Decker Park changes everything?”
“Are you afraid he’ll be interested in you for your money? He’s a Romano. They’re rich.”
“I know that.” So what am I worried about? I let the truth spill out with someone I knew wouldn’t judge me. “Ty, every weekend his family gathers for Sunday dinners. Do you know where he was this morning? With his parents. His parents. He’s a good guy. He and his mother swap recipes on Saturday mornings. Does that sound like someone you can see with me?”
“No, you need an asshole.”
I stopped and shot Ty a glare. “You’re not helping.”
“Because you’re not making any sense.”
As what I was worried about crystallized, I blurted it out. “I’m not the kind of woman a man like him goes for. In two dates, tops, he’ll want to change me.”
Ty frowned. “I see. This isn’t about him; it’s about you. You think you’re not good enough for him.”
I sat back down. Was that it? No. And yes. Mostly no. “I like who I am. I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. I love my life.”
“But?”
“But Christof is the kind of guy who still opens doors for women. His mother never worked. She’s one of those stay-at-home, have-cookies-ready-after-school paragons. What would I have in common with his family?”
“Him?”
I didn’t like the amusement in Ty’s eyes. “I wouldn’t even know how to be part of a family.”
“Because you don’t have one?” With that Ty stood up. “I’d say I’m insulted, but that would only add to your freak-out. I don’t know Christof or his family, but I do know that nothing is ever as perfect as it looks from the outside. I’d bet my life they’re just as messed up as you are. You’re worrying over nothing.”
I stood back up and reached a hand toward him. “I didn’t mean that you’re not—”
Ty held both hands up for me to stop. “We’re good. You want my advice? Christof sounds like a great guy. You should give him a chance. He might not want to change you because, and I’m just throwing this out there, some guys like intelligent, successful women.”
“I’m sorry, Ty. You know I love you.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t be here if the feeling wasn’t mutual. Now get out of my office—I have calls to make.”
I hesitated. “I told him you’d want to meet him before we went out.”
“I do.”
I smiled. “He said a man with older brothers is tough to intimidate, but for future reference he prefers to be punched rather than tickled until he pisses himself.”
Ty laughed. “I like him already. Tell him to come on up. I’ll hang around until he gets here.”
I turned to leave, then stopped just before I did. “Be nice to him, Ty. I don’t know why this one’s important, but he is.”
“Gotcha, so I’ll meet him at the gate with my shotgun instead.”
Shaking my head, I walked back into the main area of the garage.
I groaned as I remembered how I’d made it sound as if I didn’t have a family. I knew how lucky I was to have Ty, Cal, and Wayne in my life. I’d been referring to the two-parent, dinner-on-the-table, put-money-in-a-jar-if-you-swear kind of arrangement.
I called Cal and asked him to put Wayne on the phone as well. I naturally turned to them when anything in life fell out of alignment—no different from pulling into a pit and signaling that something needed looking at. “I think I hurt Ty’s feelings. Could the two of you call him tonight? Check in on him?”
“What’d you say?” Wayne asked.
I didn’t pretty it up. No need to. This was my crew. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, but I hurt his feeling
s. You know how sensitive he can be about any suggestion that we aren’t family.” Ty came across as tough, but the only family he had was Cal, Wayne, and me. A fact that didn’t seem to bother him unless someone brought it up. “I feel horrible. Did he tell you the name of the woman he went out with last weekend? Maybe I could track her down and see if she’d ask him out tonight. I don’t like the idea of him being alone.”
“Ty’s fine,” Wayne said. “He knows you love him.”
Cal chimed in, “And I wouldn’t stick your nose into his love life. You know he doesn’t like that.”
“As if that has ever stopped any of us,” I joked.
Cal and Wayne laughed. Cal said, “True enough. Don’t worry about Ty. Wayne and I are almost home anyway. We decided to head back a day early. We should roll in around three o’clock. We’ll clean up, then drag him out for a drink.”
“I’d say I’d go with you, but I might have a date tonight.”
“With Christof ?” Wayne asked, dragging out the name in light mockery of how they thought I said it.
“Is he picking you up?” Cal cut in.
“Yes. I think so. Not sure. I haven’t answered him yet.”
“Way to leave a guy hanging. Poor Christof,” Wayne joked.
“I should just say yes. I’m making this into a bigger deal than it is. All we’re doing is going to dinner.”
“I want to meet him.” Cal sounded too enthusiastic about the idea.
“Me too,” Wayne added.
“Ty said the same. Promise me you’ll be nice to him.”
Wayne laughed. “When have we ever not been nice to Ty?”
“He’s our bud,” Cal said in a tone that revealed they were having far too much fun with this.
“I will kick all three of your asses . . .”
“Did you hear that?” Cal asked.
Wayne said, “So is she saying we shouldn’t tell him all her most embarrassing stories?”
“Stop,” I ground out. “Don’t mess this up for me.”
When Cal spoke again, his tone was gentle. “We’re kidding, McKenna.”
“I know you are.” I sighed. They weren’t the problem. “God, I’m not used to being nervous. I get all fluttery and weird when I talk to Christof. I’m pretty sure I’m going to fuck this up.”
Cal cooed, “Wayne, is this the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen? Our little girl is all grown up and falling in love.”
“I’m not falling for him,” I countered.
Wayne couldn’t not be a ballbuster. “No, she’s fluttering for him.”
“Goodbye,” I said firmly. “Drive safely. If you’re here when he is, I’ll introduce you.”
“Oh, we’ll be there,” Wayne promised.
I ended the call with that. The conversation was headed nowhere productive. After a moment, I reopened my messages and realized a good amount of time had passed without me answering Christof.
Too long?
I did want to see him.
Despite the jokes, I also wanted him to meet my crew.
I scrolled to the last message, and my stomach did a nervous dance. I really am fucking fluttering. I need to calm down. We might go out and discover we aren’t as compatible in person as we are on the phone.
I was tempted to arrange to meet him somewhere away from Decker Park. Talking to Ty had helped me understand why, and I hated that part of me was certain Christof wouldn’t like the real me.
Oh God, I’d never understood women who pretended to be stupid around men, but there I was half considering concealing my successful business from a man I really liked. Because being able to support myself in a male-dominated profession made me less of a woman?
Some men thought so.
Would Christof?
If he couldn’t accept me the way I was, wouldn’t I rather find out early and end it fast, like removing a Band-Aid in one swift move?
I stared down at the phone without typing. I hadn’t gotten where I was by second-guessing what I wanted. Success in anything was the result of careful preparation and then unshakable focus.
Decker Park was proof of the validity of that philosophy.
What was Christof?
At first I’d thought he was the distraction I was supposed to avoid to survive. After getting to know him more that week, I was beginning to think my life had room for more than one goal.
Christof was the first person to make me yearn for more.
Some relationships lasted. Didn’t they? Wayne and Cal had been together as long as I could remember.
Love shouldn’t require a person to change who they were.
I wanted to be myself with Christof.
With that in mind, I typed: Is five o’clock too early? I’d like to show you around my garage while it’s still daylight.
He must have been typing as I did, because his incoming text dinged as mine posted. If you’re not ready, we can keep talking on the phone and go out next weekend. I can go as slow as you need me to.
Those were words no one in the racing world ever uttered. My lips twisted in a wry smile. What did it say about me that I didn’t know what to do with a nice guy?
Today is fine. See you at five.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHRISTOF
The map app on my phone provided more information than I was prepared for when I entered McKenna’s address. Decker Park. Her house was situated on an impressive racing facility.
One that shared her last name.
Did it belong to her family? She’d said she owned a small garage; there was nothing small about two professional-caliber racetracks and a building the size of a factory that abutted them.
I had been completely honest with her every step of the way. I didn’t like that she might not have been the same with me.
The drive up gave me time to overthink the situation.
On the other hand, I was happy for her if she’d found a way to make her dream a reality. She had even gotten her pit crew, from the sounds of it. More memories came back from our first meeting. The napkin. Her sketch. I could almost hear her describing how she wanted the place to be.
Holy shit, she’d done it. No wonder she’d said there wasn’t much she’d change about her life. She was living her dream.
So why hadn’t she told me? We’d talked every night—seemed like something that big would have come up. Unless she didn’t want me to know.
Why lie? Why suggest all she had was a small garage?
My guard went up for the first time since meeting her. I was the type who trusted people until they gave me a reason not to. If she’d lied once, what else wasn’t she being honest about? It was a potential game changer for me.
I pulled up to the security hut at Decker Park’s main gate. It was as grand as the entrance to any of the country’s largest racecourses, but it lacked the commercial feel of them. This was something different. Something private and elite.
The security guard checked my ID, then took an extra moment to look me over before handing it back to me. “Welcome, Mr. Romano. Miss Decker is at the main garage waiting for you. Go straight up this road, then follow the signs at the top of the hill.”
“Thank you,” I said as I secured my ID back in my wallet.
“Nice wheels,” he said before he withdrew and closed the window between us.
Thanks.
I parked my car outside what I surmised was the main garage—a large concrete-and-metal structure. My guess was it was eighty thousand square feet. Enormous. The arched entrance was flanked on one side by a row of roll-up doors, some of which were open, others closed. The other, mostly glass side appeared to be a car showroom.
“Christof,” McKenna called out from one of the open garage doors. She made her way toward me, dressed in bright-yellow coveralls, her hair tied back in a ponytail, with a smudge of grease on her cheek. Her chin rose as she met my gaze, as if she was daring me to comment on her attire.
I thought back to the younger McKenna who had wor
ried she didn’t have whatever it had taken to make this place. Why wasn’t she meeting me with a huge smile, proud of her accomplishments and excited to show them off? I searched her expression and waited.
She stopped barely a foot from me, and her eyebrows came together, lending her an air of uncertainty. Neither of us were smiling. We stood there in a silent standoff, each waiting for something from the other.
She blinked first and waved a hand in the air. “So this is my place.”
I simply held her gaze. I wasn’t the kind to accuse or corner, but we both knew she’d misled me. I’d been all in, but this had the potential of being the last time I’d see her. To move forward, I’d need to know lying wasn’t the norm for her.
She sighed and looked away. “Obviously it’s not a small garage.”
“Obviously.”
When her eyes met mine again, they were flashing with defensive anger. “Listen, what I don’t need in my life is another judgmental prick. This is me. Love it or leave it. I’m not some damsel in distress waiting to be rescued. I love working on cars. I love my unorthodox family and spending most of my day in the building behind me, covered with grease, smelling like old leather and oil. I don’t need you to approve of how I live my life. So take a good look at me. This will be me a month from now. A year from now. Ten years from now. I’ll probably never cook for you. Any child I have, if I ever have a child, will likely know how to swear before they can read and will damn well know their way around a garage.”
Relief flooded in. Protecting Decker Park hadn’t been a lie so much as a defense mechanism. Someone had hurt her, not seen her achievement for what it was, and she was afraid I wouldn’t either. I could work with that. A smile twitched at the side of my mouth. “That’s a lot to unpack. What makes you think I would want to change you?”
Her frown deepened. “All men do.”
“Then you’ve been with the wrong men.”
She shook her head as if she couldn’t accept what I was saying. “Don’t feed me bullshit, okay? If you’ve got a problem with any of this, could you save us both time and say it now? If you’re honest, I might still fuck you.”
My eyebrows shot up. I did value honesty, and modern women weren’t afraid to say much, but she’d still rocked me back onto my heels. She and I handled things differently, but I didn’t consider that a bad thing. She didn’t look about to fuck me; she looked like she was panicking. A thought occurred to me. “Are you nervous about our first real date?” When she didn’t answer, I added, “Because I was more excited to see you again than I’ve been about anything in a long time, but I’m nervous too. I’m not a prick, though, and not about to apologize for things I haven’t done. Did you lead me to believe you had a small garage because some douchebag before me made you feel bad about being successful? Or didn’t like the idea of a woman working on cars? Maybe both?”
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