Page 33 of Formula Fling

Ronan leers. “If you say so. But I’m thinking, he clearly knows something about you that I don’t.” His tone turns suggestive. “If you wanted to spend some time with me to get an even closer experience to what a formula driver is all about, you only need to ask.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, and not in a good way. There’s something predatory in his tone, something that makes me want to back away. But I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled, so instead I go on the attack. I tap my finger to my chin, look upward as if I’m considering it, then pin my eyes on him. “Um… gross. I’ll pass.”

I don’t wait for his reply but instead set my plate on the table. I quickly exit the tent and run smack into Lex.

His hands move to my shoulders to steady me. “Whoa there. Where are you in a rush to?”

I resist the urge to see if Ronan followed me and instead say, “I was going to take you up on your offer to learn to shoot.”

A delighted smile lights up his face. “Really?”

“Yeah… I mean, looks like fun.”

“Have you ever shot a gun before?”

I stare at him pointedly. “Do you know what a Southern girl is?”

He grins, shaking his head. “I really don’t.”

“It means I know what an over-and-under double-barreled shotgun is, just as I know what a side-by-side is.”

Lex’s eyebrows rise. “I’m impressed. Let’s see what you got.” He then holds out his elbow and without overthinking it, I slip my hand into the crook. As we walk toward the range, I glance over my shoulder and see Ronan standing outside the tent, watching us thoughtfully.

For a fleeting second, I consider telling Lex about the encounter, that it left me a little uncomfortable, but I decide against it. I might be overreacting, but even if I’m not, I don’t want to cause waves between the guys. They’re teammates and it would serve no purpose to open this can of worms. I resolve myself to keep my eyes on the prize.

Eleven more days until the race in Bahrain and then I’ll have all the information I could ever need to write a kick-ass formula race romance series.

CHAPTER 12

Posey

It’s nearing ninep.m. when we make it back to Woking. I’m tired yet still exhilarated by such a fun afternoon and evening. Outside of the weird exchange with Ronan, I had one of the best times I’ve ever had. This little rural North Carolina girl could never have imagined a life where she sipped expensive champagne at a multimillionaire race team owner’s Cotswold mansion and rubbed elbows with racing’s elite.

But despite being immersed in a decadent world of riches and royalty—because yes, Spencer is royalty—I was surprised at how down-to-earth most everyone was. Oh, some people looked down their noses at the tagalong reporter, but for the most part, people were gracious and kind.

Even Spencer took time to show me around a portion of the estate. He showed me his stables after I confessed a lifelong love of horses. Growing up our neighbors had horses, and I was always allowed to ride them.

And through it all, Lex was by my side. He didn’t have to keep me company and there were a few times where he and I drifted into different circles, but somehow… he always ended back with me.

When it was time to leave for the evening, he cupped my elbow on the walk to retrieve his car from the valet. I was admittedly a little tipsy from the champagne and I only allowed myself to get that way because Lex assured me he wasn’t going to drink at all.

“Eleven days until the first race… I’m going into beast mode,” he’d said.

My buzz has worn off over the hour it took us to drive home. Lex and I chatted about the party and we’re still gabbing as we enter the house and I move to the refrigerator to pull out two bottles of water. I hand one to Lex and open the other for myself.

Nothing about this feels weird to me.

We’re compatible roommates and I’d dare say that Lex has quickly become a friend.

“Cheers,” he says, holding up his bottle with a grin.

“Cheers,” I reply, tipping mine back for a long swallow.

Lex leans against the counter, his gaze wandering over me for a second. “Long day, huh?”

“Yeah,” I agree, fiddling with the label. “But fun.”

He nods, swirling his water. “You seemed to enjoy the skeet shooting.”

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