Page 8 of Driving Wild

“I did, princess. We need to plan for the weekend. I need you beside me at all the pre-race events and by the car during the anthem. You’ve got to be the doting wife all day.”

“You do know that I have an actual job here, correct? Like I’m being paid to help get ready for Mila’s arrival in the coming weeks,” she says with that damn sass that I can’t get enough of, waving her hands around her office that looks more like a war room now.

“Yes, Red, I’m aware you have a job. You also have a duty to your husband on race day. Mila is with a different team until the end of the season. So it’s not like you’ll have to be on her like white on rice. You do realize that, right? This means you can be on me instead.” I smirk as I grab a piece of candy out of the bowl she has placed on her desk.

Popping the Jolly Rancher into my mouth, I just sit back and wait for the pushback that is one hundred percent on par with the way the woman is. After what feels like the longest standoff, Grace finally blows out a breath and just nods.

Damn, I really thought I might get more of a fight from her on this. But I guess after the pushback from her dad, the fight is gone for today. And I’m not sure how I feel about that. I love the fire and the sass she brings when talking. This version of her I’m not at all happy with, and it’s time I stand up for her. The only problem is she’s not really mine, and that might be an overstep for this strong-willed woman. I just need to bide my time and let this play out a little longer but pay attention. If I see this spark disappear one more time, me and daddy dearest will be having words.

Standing up from my chair, I take one more look at this beautiful woman as I head toward her door.

“I’ll see you later at home, Red. Try not to be late. I’ve got some plans for this evening,” I say as I close the door before she can protest. And with that, I head toward my car. After the shitty day she’s had, I need to show her that I’m not just some playboy—that I can be the good guy.

What the hell just happened? I can take Matt being cocky, and I enjoy his smart comebacks, but this sweet version? I’m not so sure my emotions can take that. He’s supposed to be the playboy, the smooth talker who makes me want to throttle him at every turn.

Granted, my emotions are kind of all over the place with the way the morning has gone. My dad made sure I knew my place and that I don’t embarrass the Miller name with this stunt. And that made me feel even more like shit. I spent an hour on the phone with him, trying to make sure he knew that I didn’t do this to tarnish the precious Miller name. Of course, my cousins were always in the media more than me, so I’m not sure why he was so worried about it. He finally gave in and hung up the phone. I was so spun out of my zone by the time Matt came in, I had nothing left in me to fight about what he was asking. Yes, the request was simple, to say the least, and I know that Tinley will be at the race this weekend, so I won’t be doing this “race walk” alone. She’ll be with me, but I still don’t like it.

Taking a deep breath, I get back to work. With Matt's words taking up room in my head, I can’t help but wonder what the playboy has planned. The more I’m around him, the more I have issues keeping my walls up.

Pulling my thoughts from my “roommate,” I check my calendar to see what I have to finish for the day. Call Mila to check in and plan out promo items for the coming weeks with the PR team. I need to get the press packet finalized. It seems like a smooth end of the day.

I have always loved making promo items. It was one of the classes that I looked forward to in college with all the different directions that you could go with one item. Now that I’m working with a certain driver, we have sponsors lined up, and that’s part of her brand. I love that I’m getting to introduce Mila to the racing world. Yes, she’s been on the racing circuit for a while in the junior levels, but this is going to be her debut to the big show. I’m going to make damn sure that she shows what she’s bringing to the table. She isn’t just pretty dresses and hair products. She shows that women know about cars and can work on them just like the men in this sport. That’s why I pushed so hard to have sponsors that will be versatile. We need to show all those little girls out there who have a passion for racing that you can be fierce, smart, and beautiful all at the same time.

Deep in thought, I don’t even realize that it’s already way past five by the time my stomach decides to make its presence known. Checking my phone, I have ten missed text messages from the Miller family group chat. Groaning, I know that if I don’t make my presence known they’ll start calling, but I just don’t have the energy today for family. I love them something fierce, but since this whole thing started a few days ago, they have been a lot to take. So I send out a quick response, telling Clint I will see him this weekend, and then I put my phone in my bag, turn off the light, and head toward my car.

Sliding into the driver's seat, I just stare out the window for what feels like an eternity. Although it may have only been a few minutes. I bring my car to life and head toward home.

Pulling up to Matt’s townhouse, I finally take a good look at it. Tall windows with dark shutters and a gorgeous, large wooden door that is so inviting that I’m sure it’ll be beautifully decorated at Christmas time with the potted trees on either side. It’s exquisite, and I was just so aggravated at the situation when I moved in that I didn’t take the time to see what I was moving into. I thought it would be some god-awful bachelor pad, but he has a proper home.

Heading up the steps, I unlock the door and am hit with the most amazing smell and soft country music playing over the speakers. I always thought that Matt was a heavy metal or rap fan, but last night, he turned on his favorite station on Alexa and it was old-school country. My heart stops when I make my way into the kitchen and see Matt coming in from the back patio, and I laugh just a little. I see the apron he’s wearing, but when I read it, I can't help but laugh. “Kiss the chef or leave my kitchen.”

The man doesn't take himself too seriously, and I’m starting to like this version of him the more I’m around him. “Hey, Red. Didn’t expect you for at least another hour,” he says as he rounds the kitchen to take something out of the oven.

“Well, I figured I better come home when my stomach decides it’s done for the day. What smells so amazing?” I ask.

“Ahhh, that’s a surprise. Get a shower and put some comfy clothes on while I finish up this, and we can eat,” he says, moving me toward the bedroom.

“You know, I’m not sure if I’m in love with this new version of you or just confused with what’s happening right now,” I say, trying to give him a stern look. But with that apron on, it's hard to keep a straight face.

“Well, it’s a good thing you have a few months to find out,” he says, coming to stand in front of me, the slow country music playing in the background. Slowly, he pulls me in close just before he says, “Now go shower.” Next, he spins me around and smacks my ass to make his point that I’m not needed in the kitchen.

Glancing over my shoulder, I notice that he’s already gone back to getting dinner ready, and I head toward the shower to wash this stressful day off.

Thirty minutes and a very hot shower later, I finally make my way back toward the kitchen. The only issue is that Matt is nowhere to be found. The room is dark now. As I look out toward the patio, I find the man in question. He’s sitting in his Adirondack chair with a beer in hand, looking out over the lake. When I step out into the beautiful North Carolina night, I’m blown away by the sight in front of me. Lights hang around the small sitting area, and tiki torches are on the perimeter. It makes this one of the most romantic scenes that I’ve ever experienced. My stomach starts to erupt with the butterflies that I’ve tried to keep at bay since I first saw Matt all those months ago. Pulling my phone from my leggings, I take a quick picture so that I can remember this moment because it may never happen again. Few men put in the effort like this, let alone for a woman who they aren’t dating. But Matt just may be different, who knows?

Just as the flash goes off, Matt turns around, and I’m hit with his beautiful smile, and there’s that single dimple. I’m sure only a few people get to experience this smile because you can tell this is his real one, not the one that’s made for the cameras on race day or for his fans.

“Hey, Red, ready to eat?” he asks just so casually and without a care in the world. I love that he can be so relaxed while I’m over here having an internal freakout. I’m trying not to have it written all over my face so that he doesn’t ask a ton of questions.

I must stand staring at him for longer than I should because he comes up in front of me.

Pulling me into his space, he tilts my head up to look into his ice-blue eyes. “Grace, you can look all you want. Hell, I know I have. But just so we’re clear,” he says before grabbing my hand and trailing it down his hot-as-sin body, “this is off limits until you can admit that you want it as bad as I do.” His Southern accent comes out more when he’s teasing me, and I kind of love it. “Now come, sit down, and eat.” He completely throws me off balance with that comment.

His gruff laugh pulls me from my lust bubble as I make my way toward the table he set up. If he wants to play it that way, well then, game on, Mr. McCall.

“So, tell me what smells so good, Cowboy.”

“Well, I decided to make you roasted chicken with vegetables since I know you can’t have fried food, which I learned the other day after you made those god-awful cookies,” he says with a smirk. Secretly I knew he loved those cookies because the next day they were all gone, and I didn’t eat all of them.

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