Ride: A Driven World Novel

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Ride: A Driven World Novel Page 15

by Heather Guimond


  “I guess you’re ready to go, eh, little man?”

  “Yeah, I got bored watching nobody win,” Corey grumbled as he stood and dusted off his bottom. “I’m getting hungry again.”

  “Let’s pack up. We’ll stop at a drive-through for burgers on the way home. Just don’t tell Rylee, okay? I’m sure she’d prefer I get you something healthier.” I knew Rylee wouldn’t really mind but would enjoy another reason to give me shit.

  Within forty-five minutes, we were nearly to The House, sacks of burgers and fries for everyone piled on the seat between us. Kenni convinced me it wouldn’t be fair for us to show up with a bunch of fast food for us and nothing to share with the other boys. Rylee hassled me good-naturedly but managed to swipe a cheeseburger for herself.

  By the time Kenni and I reached home, we were ready to drop. I’d always heard kids were hard to keep up with, but I was a young man in peak physical condition. I should have been able to handle one six-year-old, especially with Kenni’s help. Instead, I was whipped.

  “We need to turn in. We have a big day tomorrow. I have to be at the Wiltern two hours ahead of time to practice our cat walking,” I said with a roll of my eyes as Kenni sprawled over me on the sofa. “But before that, I’ve arranged for a little surprise for you. There’s a car coming to pick you up at eight o’clock sharp.”

  “There’s what? Finn, wait. Why? There’s so much to do to get ready for tomorrow. I haven’t even had time to buy a dress.”

  “Relax. I’ve provided anything you need. You mentioned last time you had to borrow clothes for our dinner, so I took it upon myself to make sure you wear exactly what makes you feel like the princess you are.” I gave her a sweet kiss on the forehead, then quietly led her to my room, where we both fell asleep without ever getting out of our clothes.

  Finn hadn’t been kidding when he said eight o’clock sharp. I was still sipping the last of my coffee when the driver rang the bell. Hustling to get my purse and keys, Finn met me in the foyer, wearing only his boxer briefs. His smooth, tanned skin was stretched taut over carved pectorals and the finest six-pack I’d ever seen on a man. I lost focus for a moment as my eyes devoured every bare inch of him.

  “Careful, Kenni. You keep looking at me like that, and you’ll end up naked at the gala tonight because I’m going to make new plans for you.”

  I shook off the lust swirling between us, giving him a soft kiss.

  “I’m sure they’ll have me home in time for the gala, right?” I asked, suddenly feeling very out of my element, afraid I’d do something to embarrass Finn.

  “Yes, your driver has strict instructions to have you back here by four-thirty,” he said, one hand on my shoulder, the other on the knob as he opened the front door. “Hey, Gordon!”

  A mountain of a man wearing a sharp black suit and tie stood on the stoop. He was physically imposing, with a shaved head, intense dark eyes, and a goatee. He looked more like a bouncer or bodyguard than a driver.

  “Is Miss Michaels ready to go?” he asked Finn, not seeing me standing just left of the door frame. I was transfixed when a broad smile spread across Gordon’s face as Finn bumped fists with him. Finn motioned toward me as he stepped back.

  “Here she is.” Finn turned to me, dropping a soft kiss on my mouth. “You have a full schedule of beauty treatments booked. Facial, massage, hair, nails... and anything else you want and have time for. Bridgette, a personal stylist, is going to call with some questions, so she can bring you a selection of dresses for tonight.”

  “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” I replied, my head spinning, wondering how a dirt bike rider could even imagine what went into a woman’s beauty routine.

  “I do have some off-track talents.” Finn grinned as he puffed out his chest like Superman.

  “That you do, that you do.”

  ***

  I smoothed the jade silk over my hips and smiled. The luxurious material caressed my curves like the softest of whispers with every little move I made. It was sensual and delightful, giving me secret pleasure, I’d be hard-pressed to explain but enjoyed.

  Stepping to the full-length mirror in Finn’s bedroom, I peered at my reflection. I barely recognized myself. From the crown of my head to the heels of my shoes, I looked like someone else—a fairy-tale princess or a movie star. Certainly, someone more glamorous than the girl who spent her days covered in streaks of grease. I clucked my tongue as I turned around and inspected the back view over my shoulder.

  Finn’s spa day gift was so thoughtful. I felt refreshed and alive, yet soft and feminine as I marveled over my appearance. I never thought after a lifetime spent on dirty racetracks, I’d be Finn Hawkins’ date to any kind of bash, let alone a formal event co-hosted by the renowned Colton Donavan. Finn’s awareness that I was out of my depth in his world helped allay my fears of being the odd duck at the party. If he hadn’t had the personal shopper bring me an array of choices to select from while I was at the spa, I might still be standing in this bedroom in nothing but my robe, having a mini-nervous breakdown.

  Stepping away from the mirror and picking up my matching clutch tote, my heart fluttered as I remembered the way he looked at me when he left me in the care of the spa attendant. The stormy gray had been replaced by a cerulean blue so fresh and clear, it reminded me of the spring sky outside. I’d never seen them so... blue. For the first time since I’d known him, the shadows that hovered in his irises seemed to have faded away. I smiled softly, hoping it had everything to do with us and what we’d started.

  “Are you about ready in there?” The smooth, tenor voice carried easily through the dense wood of the door, and a light rap followed.

  “I am,” I croaked, my voice husky from my sentimental thoughts. “Coming!”

  The door opened just as I arrived. Finn stood with his hand on the knob, dressed in a pristine white tuxedo jacket edged with black satin and black trousers. His tie was loose, slung around his neck, giving him that aura of old-school, rat-pack, bad-boy vibe. His rich, wavy hair was messy as though he’d nervously run his hands through it a million times since his shower.

  The most irresistible thing, however, was the way his jaw slackened as he looked at me.

  “Holy fuck, Kenni!” He whistled low and slow as he circled me as though I was carved from marble. “I always thought you were a goddess, but now? I don’t even know what you are now… something unimaginable.”

  “I hope that’s meant to be a compliment,” I replied, my cheeks warming as I pretended not to realize how he was practically stuttering and drooling. I felt that secret feeling again, only this time, it was my delight, knowing I, Kenni Michaels, had enough sexual allure to cast a spell over Finn Hawkins—hotshot, soon-to-be Supercross champ, and all-around female fantasy man. Who’d-a-thunk it?

  “You know it was. Are you ready to go?” he asked as he slowly slid a hand along my side and pulled me in for a slow, gentle, but savory kiss.

  “Yes,” I hummed breathlessly once he finally withdrew his lips from mine.

  “Good because our driver has arrived.” He gave me a playful swat on the behind before taking my hand and kissing it. Since Dalt, if anyone had ever tried a move so sexist, I wouldn’t hesitate to drop them flat on their back, yet I giggled like an insipid schoolgirl and demurely shoving his hand away. He chuckled and pulled me behind him through the house and out the front door, where a black Infinity QX80 stretch limousine idled at the curb. The driver stood in modern livery attire at the rear passenger side door, a bouquet of blue roses in his arms.

  “Are those for me?” I whispered as I rushed forward in excitement. No man had ever given me flowers in all my twenty-one years, not even my father when I was a girl, and here was Finn, showering me with more than a dozen of my favorite ones.

  “A little bird said you kind of liked them,” he said off-handedly, the mischief in his eyes showing how pleased he was with himself.

  “I can’t imagine who,” I replied sarcastically, elongating eac
h vowel for dramatic flair as he took them from our driver and handed them to me. I automatically leaned down and inhaled the sweet fragrance of the blooms, the cloying but lovely scent filling my senses with starry-eyed dreams. It would probably be my downfall, but I was already helpless to whatever force was pulling me into Finn’s orbit—powerless and loving every second of it.

  Finn stood back, arm outstretched, as the driver opened the door. I smiled at them both before climbing into the high vehicle as gracefully as I could with my arms full. I only wobbled a little, but Finn was there to steady me, giving me the stability I needed to slide across the seat.

  Once we were on our way, he leaned over and buried his nose in the divot behind my ear, inhaling deeply. It was a weird thing for someone to do, but I’d be damned if it didn’t give me chills.

  “You always smell incredible, Kenni. What perfume do you wear?”

  “I don’t wear any. It’s just regular bar soap and baby powder deodorant,” I said with an unrefined shrug. “Being around dirty bike parts every day, I don’t usually think about things like perfume and jewelry. Sometimes not even a hairbrush.”

  He chuckled mirthfully as he moved back toward my neck, kissing it this time. He sat back, lacing his fingers over his abdomen as he regarded me quietly. Every second that ticked by, my heart waded just a little deeper into the Hawkins’ atmosphere.

  The ride to The Wiltern Theater took no time from Finn’s house in Culver City. In fact, it took more time to get through the endless parade of cars, housing all kinds of racing sports professionals and celebrities and moneyed donors coming together for this night to benefit at-risk children. As our turn arrived and Finn climbed out and held out his hand, the stark juxtaposition amazed me. To think, Finn had been one of these endangered children and was now a leader in his sport at just twenty-five years old. Cocking my head as I looked at him, I thought if he could rise above his mistakes, why couldn’t I?

  I was agog at the art déco interior that blended seamlessly with the casino night vibe at the gala. The bachelor auction after dinner would be the highlight, but the attendees were playing with cash at various table games to raise money for Corporate Cares, and swing music played throughout the building, the entire vibe promising a party to remember.

  “I’m so excited,” I blurted out as Finn led me to the bar cum concession stand. We both ordered Gibson martinis and toasted each other. We were in the mood to unwind and let our hair down.

  “Do you play blackjack?” he asked after we’d finished our drinks and ordered seconds.

  “Yes, sir! That and draw poker. Everything else, I’m pretty shit at,” I admitted shamelessly.

  “Let’s go drop a few bills on a couple hands, to begin with. Want to make a friendly wager on who comes out the biggest winner of the night?”

  “It sounds like betting is the name of tonight’s game, so you’re on. What are we betting?” I asked, fluttering my lashes playfully.

  “Loser has to do whatever the winner says for fifteen minutes straight,” he said, his composure cracking. “Okay, that sounded bad.”

  “Boy, did it, but I got you, Hawk. I know exactly what you want for fifteen minutes,” I quipped back with a sassy wink.

  “Now, wait a minute,” Finn sputtered. “That’s not what I meant, either.” His eyes became tiny slits as he gave me the “evil eye.” I just laughed aloud, grabbed his hand, and dragged him to the nearest table.

  Hours passed as we flashed the funny paper money we purchased from an attendant at the ticket box, at table after table in the Underground Bar. It was fun to play like a high roller, as though we all had money to burn. Truth be told, many of the people attending the function did, but hobnobbing like I was one of them was surreal. We finally paused our playing when a tone chimed through the place, signaling dinner was about to be served. We made our way into the main area of the theater, where large, round tables covered in crisp white linens were adorned with fresh bouquets of brilliant spring flowers. We searched carefully for table number three, which turned out to be right next to the catwalk for the bachelor auction. I couldn’t wait to catcall and hoot at Finn, especially after all his little ass slaps and gropes.

  “So, what sort of rubber chicken is in store for us tonight?” I leaned over to Finn, speaking into his ear against the din of the crowd.

  “You actually get a choice of steak, fish, or rubber chicken,” he replied, leaning back in his chair and resting an arm on the back of mine. The man was comfortable, no matter what space he occupied.

  “I’d be a fool to pass up rubber chicken of any sort.”

  “I’m glad to learn of this fetish now rather than later,” he replied, pulling a laminated card from the center of the table that read “chicken.” He placed it on my plate with a playful smile. “Now, everyone knows your deepest shame.”

  It was as if someone had dragged a phonograph needle across a vinyl record, and all eyes were on me. My stomach rumbled, and my skin went clammy as the tension set in. If only rubber chickens were the greatest of my regrets. I couldn’t very well say that, though, even in jest. Just when I thought things had taken the worst turn possible, a flash of raw, royal blue silk caught the corner of my vision. My heart sank to my shoes when I spied the spiky strawberry-blonde hair and lightly freckled face of Dalton Simmons. He was seated three tables away with a luscious-looking dark-haired woman wearing the blue dress that caught my eye plastered to his side, but his eyes were trained squarely on me with that ominous, flinty stare. I swallowed hard, looking back at Finn, giving him a shaky smile.

  “You’re right. I’m a ruined woman,” I acknowledged, the echo of truth reverberating in the back of my brain.

  “My favorite kind.” He grinned wickedly as he leaned forward and kissed me, just before our waiter came around to collect our meal preferences. A tapping at the microphone sounded, just before the smooth sound of an announcer’s voice carried over hidden speakers around the room.

  “Welcome, everyone. I’m Kevin Landish. I know you probably haven’t heard of me. I was a crewman on the sailing vessel, Magdalena, who very nearly took the America’s Cup this year. Unfortunately for you, Rylee Donavan tapped me to be the Master of Ceremonies for this event, along with ten legendary bachelors, all with racing backgrounds, to donate their time and bodies to a good cause as we launch Race to the Top!” The screen behind him came alive as the stage and room lights dimmed, while the servers began to discreetly circle with our dinner selections.

  A bright, colorful, positive video, offering Corporate Cares mission statement and future plans, played as we enjoyed our meals. It wasn’t new information to any of the donors attending, but it made for a friendly accompaniment to the ambiance in the absence of a band or other form of entertainment. Being totally unfamiliar with the company, I hardly ate anything as I watched the brief video with rapt interest, thoughts of Dalton Simmons all but forgotten. I squealed without even realizing it when Finn’s face flashed on the screen, then grabbed his arm when an interview with him about his experiences as a Corporate Cares success story began. My pulse fluttered with every new tidbit I learned—details and memories he’d never shared with me, and I hadn’t asked because I didn’t want to pry.

  The lights came back up when Kevin walked back on stage, clapping and grinning as he strode to the podium. I looked at Finn, amazed he’d never mentioned doing the interview. Not that he had to, but we spent hours texting and talking on the phone. I needed to delve deeper about his childhood but still felt hesitant I might dredge up the painful memories more than the fond ones.

  “What do you all think about that guy?” Kevin shouted into the microphone, the audience now clapping with him. “He just happens to be one of our bachelors on auction tonight!”

  The crowd roared and clapped louder, the enthusiasm for the main event beginning to build. Even my own pulse picked up speed as the energy circulating through the room was palpable. I couldn’t suppress the grin plastered on my face. Everyone believed s
o passionately in this cause. I regretted not having money to bid on Finn. It was only because I wanted to contribute to Corporate Cares, of course, not because I was jealous someone was going to buy a date with him tonight. Of course, it wasn’t.

  “Now, I need to introduce a man who really needs no introduction. I’m sure he twisted all your arms to get you here, just like he did me. The one and only, Colton Donavan, ladies and gentlemen!”

  The house lights flashed once, and cheesy music poured out of the speakers as Colton walked onto the stage, mock glaring and laughing at Kevin. They gave each other a bro hug, complete with the back claps, before Kevin faded into the background as Colton adjusted the microphone to accommodate his height.

  “Tonight marks a special milestone in my long association with Corporate Cares...” he began, his warm, pleasant voice lulling me into a semi-sleepy state. I might have sipped a little too much wine without eating enough rubber chicken.

  “I’m going to sneak out for a trip to the ladies’ room,” I whispered into Finn’s ear. “I’ll only be gone a few minutes.”

  “Hurry back,” he replied with a soft caress to my cheek. “It won’t be long before I have to go backstage and debase myself to a room full of women… for charity.”

  “You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I leaned forward and kissed him briefly before standing. I wound my way through the theater to the lobby, where I’d seen a discreet sign for the restrooms.

  I walked to the sinks, pulled a handful of paper towels from the dispenser, and ran it under cold water before pressing it to the back of my neck as I closed my eyes. I was flushed with a special feeling that warmed me from the inside out. Finn was never the guy my brother thought he was, not the man his father tried to turn him into. The warmth and pride obvious on his face as he’d shared his years in The House was proof positive, he was good deep down to his soul. When he talked about his new “little brother” with such admiration and pride, my ovaries almost exploded. Whether it was more self-delusion or fact no longer mattered to me. At that moment, I gave myself conscious permission to throw self-preservation out the window and tumble headfirst into love with Finn Hawkins.

 

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