Page 92 of Sugar Coated Secrets

She lets out a puff of air. “Depends on the event.”

“Alright, make as many cakes as you can in different flavors. I’ll send a courier to have them shipped to Charlotte. I have sponsors waiting for me at the Charlotte Motor Speedway. There will be press, paparazzi, screaming fans and loud cars. It’s not far from here. It would be good to get away for a bit. You’ll be back by Sunday. I can hire someone to help Mary if she needs to leave.”

“Alright,” she agrees, and the pressure I felt in my chest quickly dissipates. “I’ll be ready.”

Two days later, I wait in the meet and greet before the race begins. The sun is out, the trees swaying in the wind. My car isin the back trailer, and I’m waiting outside Dulce’s house for her to come out.

After a few minutes, my heart jumps in my throat, and my palms sweat as I watch Dulce walk down the broken path wearing leggings and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt. Her long hair blows to the side, and she has never looked more gorgeous.

“If you keep staring at her, the sponsors might think you're too distracted to race,” Derek says from behind me.

“They better get used to it. Is everything ready for tonight?”

“Have I ever let you down?” he replies in a Southern twang.

“If there is ever a time when I need you to come through for me, it’s now.”

“I never pegged you to have a soft spot for a woman.”

“If it only was a spot,” I mutter before she reaches me.

“Hi,” Dulce says nervously, looking back and forth between Derek and me.

“Derek, Dulce Webster. The owner of Sugar Coated Sweets.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Derek says, taking her bag.

“Nice to meet you,” she replies softly.

I take the bag from Derek, earning a surprised look. “Well, that’s a first,” Derek mutters.

“First of many,” I tell him, leaning close to place a peck on her lips. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she says right back.

“Good morning,” I whisper.

“Good morning,” she says shyly. The blush on her cheeks spreads to her neck.

Derek clears his throat. “We need to get going, Ford.”

When we arrive at the event, I had Derek arrange for Sugar Coated Secrets to have a tent with a banner made with her logo to market the bakery. I also made copies of her menu and QR code so people can place orders remotely.

“You didn’t have to do all this, Ford,” she says, watching from the suite above the track in awe.

“It’s my pleasure. Everyone will know where they can buy my favorite cookies from.”

“Ford,” Derek calls from the door.

I turn. “I’ll be right out.”

Sponsors are waiting for me to make an appearance, but I want to make sure she is comfortable.

“Is it like this all the time?” she asks, looking out at the crowds of fans with my number painted on their faces. Some with signs with my name on them. People scream and cheer in the stands. Some with their phones out. They even rolled out a red carpet. It is a full PR event. Thousands of fans have come out to watch me race.

“Depends on the race. Formula 1 is more of a show. More money. In Italy, it is a bigger show for sure. Huge parties after the race. Executives from every car manufacturer.”

“Full of celebrities?” she asks, but I can tell she’s nervous

---