CHAPTER THREE
HAWK
U nscheduled adrenaline surged through my veins as I walked away from Sunny Cooper. The sexy as sin little hellion had fired me up, but it was her tenderness with Ryan that brought out the beast I buried deep, damned contradictory thing that it was. Seeing her care for him after her driver’s attack broke something inside me that should have been hard and fearless.
And anyone with a heart who stayed on Benson’s team was clearly in the wrong place.
Feelings weren’t practical in our line of work but where I tried to stay energized and focused, Benson was just a total asshole all round. I doubted he ever turned that thing off.
Sunny Cooper was a league of her own, wasted on him.
I wanted her on my team.
“Don’t do it,” Ryan muttered beside me, pushing his hands through his short, salt and pepper speckled hair. “Don’t even think about it. You need to stay focused on now. The season starts in a few weeks.”
“She’d be a firecracker in the—” I caught myself and frowned at him to cover my irritation at his mind reading skills. “In the marketing department. If she can make Benson look good, imagine what she could do for us.”
“Knowing him, he’ll have her tangled in so much legal jargon that it’ll be the next millennium before she’s free of him.”
I knew firsthand what Benson was like. Trust wasn’t something I’d put in his path. My thoughts soured and I nodded. “Yeah. Remember that rookie driver who took him on as a mentor? Peter something? Kid tried to get out of it when Benson’s sweet and caring nature shone through.”
“He moved to the other side of the country, didn't he?” Ryan gestured for me to lead him into our temporary garage.
I smirked and bowed low to him. Ryan rolled his eyes and walked inside.
“Yeah, probably. I didn’t follow it through.” I ran straight into Ryan who had stopped in the entrance. “What the fu— You okay, old man?”
Ryan coughed and slipped past me, leaving me in a room that had one other occupant.
York Hart, my mentor and idol, stood in the middle of my garage.
My stomach dropped and tightened in a single second. I’d grown up watching York’s victories on TV, though my father had attempted to ban me from them, declaring a soldier's brat shouldn’t waste his hours on frivolous dreams. Honor was all that mattered to my father. So much so that he seemed to forget he had a family.
That hadn’t passed on to me.
A red and black leather jacket hung easy over York’s broad shoulders, and despite sporting a two-day growth, he exuded class. Mirrored sunglasses completed his look, even in the dark of the garage, which made him all the more intimidating.
My mechanics team was conspicuously absent, and that meant…well. I wasn’t sure exactly what it meant, but here’s hoping I hadn’t screwed up too bad.
“It would be nice to see you focused on your driving.”
That’s what he opened with? Nothing on what had happened with Benson, though I assumed that’s what had brought him down from on high. Just focus on your driving .
Holy shit.
I bit back the retort I would have shot back at anyone else in the world and stalled at the starting post. “Will do.”
Silence fell between us and I fought the fingers that insisted on tapping my thigh in an irregular beat.
I have the conversational aptitude of a rock.
York sighed, sliding his sunglasses off to dangle them from his fingers. “Hawk, you’ve got serious potential. Distractions can cost you your career early on, and I’m not talking about Benson.”
Ah. There it is.
“Yes, sir.” My words hadn’t improved, though at least I found them this time. York stared at me and didn’t say anything. I cleared my throat. “Yes, I’ll get my head in the game. Though to be fair, if Benson hadn’t attacked my crew chief, we wouldn't be having this discussion.”
“Of course we would.” He tapped his sunglasses on the back of his other hand. “If it wasn’t the blonde, it would be someone else. Get your head out of your ass. Focus on the race. I’ll speak to Benson.”
York hit me with a piercing stare that took me back to being a shitty school kid who got caught with his pants down between the teacher’s legs.
“Appreciate it,” I murmured as he walked away.
Sunny Cooper haunted me. Every time I turned around there she was, talking with Benson’s team, doing a press release, directing a photoshoot. I stalked her online after hours just to cement my obsession.
Currently she stood across the road from pit lane, bending over a photographer to point out shots and aspects. I’d seen Benson on his practice laps earlier and couldn’t remember who had booked the track and for when. Sunny wiped my mind clear of anything but her. York had a point. I knew I needed to get my headspace right but she was such a damn fine distraction all I wanted to do was find her and rile the fuck out of her again.
“York was right, you know,” Ryan said from beneath my car where he lay on his back, tinkering. “Head where it needs to be. You’re on practice laps soon and the season starts after the break. Stop looking for her, Hawk.”
I grinned, not taking my eyes off her perfectly curved ass that fit into shiny, tight black pants that highlighted every luscious curve. “I wasn’t looking for her.” Semantics. “You know that’s never going to happen.” My fragmented conversation didn’t win me any brownie points. Hell, I could barely keep up.
Ryan muttered something about focus from his position beneath my car. I nodded, made a gesture he couldn’t see but probably anticipated, and strode toward her. The photographer—the same, sleazy bastard who had taken shots while her driver was threatening my crew chief—glanced over his shoulder as I jogged across the track. Ryan called out something behind me.
I waved back as the photographer caught the glare I sent his way. His face paled despite the midday sun. He headed up the track away from Sunny, ostensibly beneath the guise of scouting more promo shots.
That left Sunny standing alone.
Perfect .
“Hey.” I slowed to a walk. “You guys ready for the season, huh?”
Sunny faced me, her eyebrows raised. She pushed one hand through her blonde hair, rumpling the curls that seemed set in place, each one in an exact position. A handful of notes were clutched beneath her elbow as she exuded an untouchable brand of defiance my way.
Damn good thing I had a habit of breaking things that weren’t mine to take in the first place. I wanted to run my hands through those curls and mess them the fuck up.
Paired with red swollen lips and mussed hair, she’d look hotter than hell with that I’ve just been fucked look. Maybe I could pay out on that last part, too.
My cock hardened at the insta-fantasy. I swallowed, sliding my hands into my pockets in an attempt to adjust myself discreetly. Her gaze followed my action, those generous lips parting in a soft intake of breath as she drew her gaze back to meet mine. Her forehead creased a little.
I held her stare, trying to work her out. She had to know how damn good she looked. Right? Sunny Cooper presented an immaculate, coiffed facade I was certain she manicured every day, rising at two a.m. or not.
No one looked like that the moment they woke up, but a side of me wanted to see what she did look like before all the makeup went on each day, dozy eyed in a sheer night dress. Or no dress at all.
My new fantasy replaced the old one and I was back where I started. Uncomfortable, aroused and tongue-tied.
“Was there something you wanted, Hawk? I’m sure you have your own team to work with.” Her accent— what was that, Eastern Bloc, Siberian? —thickened as she threw on a haughty attitude.
It was sexy as hell, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
I grinned, back in a game I could play. One where I knew the rules, which ones I could bend, or break. “That attitude's not going to work on me, Princess.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The don't you have somewhere else to be act. I might have seen it a few times.”
“Did it work then?” She studied me, her eyes distant, but the corners of her lips curled.
Damn, she looked fine. I needed her on my team—for her skills, not as eye candy—but she’d be an asset either way.
“Hell, no it didn’t work. It never worked. You have to have a weakness for shit like that to let it get under your skin.”
“And you don’t have any of those, of course.”
“Sure I do.” I shrugged as her eyes widened. “Surprised? I work in an industry that’s highly competitive, and the majority of my day—hell, my week, is a mental game. We’ve been prepping for a championship season that won't start for a few more weeks and I’ve been playing out that win and every drive every single day already. Working my ass off to stay in condition. I won’t be giving freebies away in the weakness department.”
“That’s fair.” She nodded.
“Yeah?” I was relieved to see she understood—really understood—every word I said. This was a woman who got my industry, not just a track bunny with fake tits ready to pop out of a bikini on command.
“Yeah.” She challenged me, the defiance flaring in her gaze anew. “That mind set is critical. Benson whines about it.” One side of her mouth quirked in a sardonic smile.
“I’m sure that’s not all he rants about.” I grinned, rocking back on my heels, taking her in, all of her. Sunny lived up to her name, full of the sort of energy that was addictive to everyone around her.
“Couldn’t be truer.” She looked down at her handful of notes. Curls tumbled forward to hide her face, shadowing the features I wanted to see.
I took a step into her space, hooked a finger through one curl and gave it a gentle tug. “Hey.”
Her head shot up at the contact, her eyes widening to search mine. “Hawk?—”
She started to take a step back, then seemed to realize I held a hostage and wasn’t likely to release it. Her gaze darted to pit lane and back to me, a flicker of fear present there I hated.
I wound the silky strand around my fingers drawing her closer. “Come work for me.”
“What?”
“Come work for me,” I repeated, my voice rough. “Drop Benson. He’s a dick on the best of days. I want you on my team, Sunny. What have I got to do to hunt you down?” I tucked her hair behind her ear, but I didn’t step back.
“I think you’ve hunted me down,” she said, her tone careful though her focus slid to pit lane again.
I didn’t miss the break in attention, but it did give me pause. “So…?”
“I’ve got a job, and I’m— I’m good with where my career is right now.” Still that careful tone. The undertone of fear. Fucking Benson.
Sunny broke my gaze, dropping her head to hide behind the mass of curls. But she still hadn’t taken a step away from me though we were surrounded by plenty of space she could escape into.
Show me how to understand you, Princess.
Where was the fire I’d seen in her eyes the other day when I’d been breathing down her neck? Did I need to rage to get a reaction from her? What the hell Benson had done to ruin a girl on his team in a season was beyond me. A streak of protectiveness flared through my veins.
“Uh uh. None of that, Coops.” I hooked a knuckle beneath her chin, drawing her back to me with a firm but gentle touch. “Tell me what’s not perfect about your job.”
“I—” She held my gaze, bringing her free hand up to wrap around my wrist, her nails grazing my skin. She gave an experimental tug, but I didn’t move.
“Tell me what it’s really like working for Benson. You saw what he did yesterday. And it’s not the first time, right? So tell me something that I can do better. Tell me what I need to do to get you to come to work for me, instead.”
A yell echoed across the track, then a second.
Sunny held my gaze for a moment longer, then stepped back, breaking the odd silence that fell between us. She inhaled a sharp breath, the pages pinned under her arm crumpling.
“I’m fine where I am, thank you, Hawk. But Benson doesn’t like his team talking to his competitors.”
“He’s got no secrets to share.” I smirked. “Benson talks himself up at every chance and acts like an absolute ass in between. The perfect boss, I’d say.”
The hails grew louder, and I picked out Benson’s slightly panicked voice in between them.
Sunny grinned, relocating our nearest star for me.
Could she be any more stunning?
She took a small step in my direction, then another until she stood a hair's breadth away, close enough that I could kiss her if I leaned down the smallest fraction. Though for the cheeky sparkle in her eyes that told me I’d regret that choice if I pushed her right now, the small divide between us may as well have been an abyss.
“That sounds just like someone else I know.” She flashed me a full smile.
Eyes sparkling as she turned on her heel, she looked over her shoulder, her lashes lowered the slightest amount. Her smile became less broad and more of the secret variety, rocking me back a second time as she crossed the track to Benson. His classical features twisted as he glared at her, tracking her every step.
His words were muted but his hands flew on their own in the space around her as soon as she reached him. Her spine stiffened beneath the deluge and it took everything I had not to follow her and defend her honor. My hands fisted at my sides. I pocketed them in an effort to plant myself and not follow her. Sunny, however, seemed to take his tantrum in her stride, stepping around her boss and ignoring him.
A stupid smile spread over my face until I turned away from the action and looked over at my own crew. Ryan stood out the front of our garage, his arms folded across his chest, shaking his head, though I couldn't tell if his glare was directed at Benson or at me.
I ignored them all, grinning a stupid ass smile I hoped the photographer missed, though he had no doubt taken a lion’s share of unauthorized shots while no one supervised him.
But none of that mattered. My gaze was fixed on the head of blonde curls that tumbled down her back to brush against that tight, perfect damn ass.
It was a good fucking day when Sunny Cooper flirted with you.