CHAPTER TWO
SUNNY
H e didn’t even need to touch me and I already reacted to his physical presence.
“I’ll make sure Ryan sees a trainer and provide him with anything else he needs,” I said to fill the charged silence. My voice came out thick and dry.
“You’ll get him therapy after your driver attacked him?” Hawk’s fury iced over, one perfectly formed eyebrow rising in an elegant arch.
The man had better eyebrows than most women I knew. It wasn’t fair.
He stared straight through me, piercing my soul. A flush started beneath my jacket under the honed demand of his gaze, prickling along my skin. I shifted my shoulders beneath the leather that trapped a layer of heat to my skin, seeking cooler air.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t want to get in between two angry men.”
I’d grown up with a sister and two older brothers, and had learned early on not to get in between them when fists swung.
Hawk glowered at me. Power and dominance rolled off him in veritable waves.
He’s the asshole. And the competitor. And you hate him.
But he’s a very hot asshole.
My heart thudded at a sprint in my chest that only drove my discomfort higher, arousal hot on its heels slamming into me. I watched a man be abused by someone I worked for, and now, beneath the gaze of a furious and dangerous man, I was getting turned on.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I swallowed and considered taking a step back, but some deep, primitive part of my brain warned me against showing any form of weakness to this man. I hadn’t been in the wrong, and I hadn’t started the ongoing animosity that appeared to be escalating daily between our teams. Stepping back felt like admitting to a guilt I couldn’t own.
But you didn’t step in to stop it either.
Locked in his amber gaze, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape.
“Hawk,” Ryan cut into our silent argument.
Exhaling hard, Hawk stepped back and ran a hand over his dark hair, working his fingers through it, like a model. Or a spoiled, private school boy. Which nearly all the drivers were, to some extent. Born to well-off families who funded their fledgling careers. Their PR teams primped and primed them for media releases and the end result were often unruffled drivers whose mental tenacity rivaled that of an elite soldier.
“Yeah. Okay. Give me your number.” Hawk held out a hand.
“What?”
“Give me information so I can speak to you when I have him arrested.” Hawk forced the words out between gritted teeth and the slash of a smile that chilled my overheated core.
“It’s not necessary.” Ryan placed a hand on Hawk’s shoulder, his back to me, though I could still hear his words. “Walk away, KC.”
Hawk broke his hold on my gaze, dropping his attention to his friend. His teeth ground audibly, and I winced.
His glare shot straight back to me.
Wrong move, Cooper.
Hawk’s eyes narrowed, following my movement. The corner of his lip turned up, and his gaze switched from fury to asshole in less time than it would take him to cross the starting line.
My body reheated under his leisurely assessment, and when his gaze caught and held mine again, I’d had enough.
Pushing through my stasis, I sidestepped Hawk’s unbearable intensity and addressed Ryan. “I really am sorry this happened to you. What can I do to try to make it right?”
Beside me, Hawk snorted. We both ignored him.
Ryan smiled. “Sure you don’t want to shift teams with an attitude like that? You don’t belong with someone like Benson.”
The man’s good humor floored me almost as much as his comment, and in an instant, I recognized him. Ryan Hadley was Hawk’s crew chief, and from the little my mind dredged up about his team on short notice, I recalled that they were firm friends going back a long way, though there must have been ten years between them.
“All on contract, I’m afraid,” I said through tight lips as Hawk muttered something under his breath. “And it sounds like I wouldn’t be the best fit.” I extracted my phone from my jacket pocket and handed it to Ryan.
His smile turned sad as he tapped the screen to enter his information. When he was finished, he clapped Hawk’s back. “Let’s go, Sunshine. We have a lot of work to get through today. Channel some of that rage in a different direction.”
Hawk turned to Ryan, and his features softened. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m used to these dicks. Don’t I work for one?”
“More like I work for you, old man.” Hawk directed a genuine smile at his crew chief. When he turned back to me that show of sentiment hardened, and the soft lines in his face flashed away as though it had never happened at all.
The hard line of his jaw, paired with cheekbones any woman would cry for, drew me to him. I studied his aquiline nose and wished I could brush my hand along his jaw to find out how long it had been since he shaved, find out what those bristles felt like on my skin.
Hot flush number three assailed me.
“Give me a moment. I want to speak with the Princess here,” Hawk murmured softly. Without so much as an ounce of effort he cocooned me with a sense of intimacy, though I knew his words weren’t meant for me.
He took a step forward, closing the space that had given me much coveted breathing room.
“I—uh, Hawk,” I started to back up a step, but his hand whipped out to catch my arm.
“I want the photos deleted from this morning. Just this incident.” He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips when he opened his mouth. “I’m not taking your precious media shots. I’m sure you were up from five to catch us.”
“It was two, actually,” I huffed, shaking my head.
If I hadn’t needed the exposure that working for Benson gave me so badly to raise my own career profile as a PR rep and brand manager, I’d have dropped him in an instant. But my contract also said that if I broke it in any way and caused Benson loss of pretty much anything—income, reputation, media presence, ranking in his sport, I’d be banned from the track for life or however long Benson raced for, whichever came first. That included essentially cuckolding him by dating any other driver, pro circuit or not, and oddly enough, mentioned KC Hawking by name.
Benson wasn’t a one hit wonder. The man had fire that pushed him through each race, and when he took the rare loss. That drive was what had drawn me to him in the first place, but after observing his behavior and his dangerous new limits this morning I regretted signing that contract with stars in my eyes.
I loved motorsports, and the thought of not working with another driver for the rest of my life crippled something inside me.
We all had our little obsessions. Mine paired well with a man in a dedicated racing team leather jacket. And the driver who stood before me, far too close, was a fine specimen of the highest order.
And Benson Crantz’s arch nemesis.
“Maybe you should consider walking away from Benson. He’s an asshole.” Hawk shook his head as he checked over his shoulder, his gaze following his crew chief to where he waited outside Benson’s garage.
“Something you two have in common,” I snarked back, and sucked in a tepid sip of my remaining coffee. “I truly am sorry about this morning, but I have work to do.”
“You keep saying that.” Hawk leaned closer, until there was little air and less fabric separating us. “Maybe you should come over and work for me. I’ve heard about you.”
I titled my head back to look up at him. He stood maybe three inches taller than me, and that was in heels. Refusing to back down, I offered him a practiced smile of my own.
“Thanks, and no chance.” I held my smile, making sure it reached my eyes. A talent my actress mother had leant me.
If you lie, lie with a smile in your eyes.
As much as I hated that little gem of advice, I couldn’t deny it had served me well over the years.
Hawk huffed a laugh. “Good talking to you, Princess.” His hand darted out, winding its way around a rogue curl that bobbed over my shoulder. He gave it an experimental tug, and his head dipped until I felt his breath on my lips. “Remember my offer if you want to exchange one asshole for another.”
Sending me an impish grin that turned my knees to water he backed up, inhaling a long breath that I echoed. He gave me a nod and turned away, striding back across the garage to Ryan. I caught his glance over at Benson, who returned the glare with equal animosity.
Thankfully, both grown men kept their antsy hands to themselves.
Hawk and Ryan disappeared along pit lane to the garage that hosted them for the season’s pre-circuit. I stared after them, my mind drawn back to Benson’s attack on Ryan despite Hawk’s flirting. Maybe I did need to check over my contract for a loophole, though it wouldn't be to work for Hawk. There was no way I could coexist effectively with that man on a daily basis. I’d as likely end up on his desk as much as working behind it, and I refused to compromise that level of integrity alongside my reputation.
I’d never slept with any of the drivers I worked for, and I wasn’t about to start now.
Besides, I couldn’t stand that particular asshole and his arrogant methods any more than I could Benson. Hawk’s barb about exchanging one tyrant for another hit home, though I didn’t see anyone crowded around Benson who had the same degree of devotion Ryan and Hawk had displayed.
But it was a moot point. For now, I had to agree with Hawk—I needed to make sure my photographer friend hadn’t kept any sneaky shots of either driver or their crew chiefs, which meant chasing him down and wasting work hours. I sighed and sucked down the dregs of my coffee to discover it was ice cold.
Grimacing, I tossed the mangled cup in the trash, and turned to find my employer glaring at me.
“Benson!” I took a step back and ran into the trash can.
Benson followed my retreat, stalking me in a quick step that both reminded me of Hawk and didn’t. Hawk might have prowled his prey, and all too well I could see how he might be in an intimate moment. He reigned in his fury, letting it out inch by controlled inch, and that energy could be devastating in the bedroom.
Or out of it.
Benson raged from the outside at full blaze, and there was nothing controlled in the presence he aimed right at me, right now.
“Benson, I was going to check on the photographer and make sure nothing leaked out about you?—”
My words died on my lips as he pushed into my space with a snarl. Fear fueled an adrenaline rush through my veins in an icy deluge.
“What the hell are you doing talking with the competition? Is it you spreading my strategy around for everyone to know? Or maybe a little refugee like you just doesn't know how things work in the US?”
You arrogant, racist bastard.
It wasn’t anything new, nothing I hadn’t heard before. I’d dealt with people thinking I was stupid, slow or uneducated purely because I had an accent that I hadn’t been able to hide, despite having escaped my homeland thirteen years before.
There was no point in calling him out on it. That would leave me with no job and an angry man with no incentive not to attack me. It was a shitty situation all over. My mind flitted back to the easy, loyal relationship filled with mutual respect I’d witnessed between Hawk and Ryan and reminded myself that it wasn’t a fairytale.
Which driver is meant to be the asshole here?
I withdrew into myself and frowned, determined to pull myself together and deescalate the situation. “Benson, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was trying to protect you.”
“Protect me when you’re slutting it up for my biggest competitor?” His lip curled.
Heat rose up my neck. “That wasn’t what I was doing?—”
“You remember the terms of your contract, don’t you, Sunny?” He leaned forward, hot breath puffing in my face. “Because I’ve gotten used to seeing you on my team. I’d hate to see you banned from the track…for life.”
Benson pushed past me, storming back to the crew. His threat rang in my ears, an echo that wouldn’t quit, and I realized the entire garage had fallen silent.
I really did need to find that loophole in my contract.
Now.