Chapter 2
What the fuck had just happened?
He’d smoked it in qualifying, earning pole position, the first place in the lineup.
For Christ’s sake, he’d outraced Henry by nearly a full second.
And for sixty-nine laps he’d been the race leader until his concentration broke.
Only for a split second but that was enough for Henry to speed past on the inside of turn six.
Turn eight at the Baku City Circuit in Azerbaijan was the hardest place to pass—making Jake look like an amateur.
It wasn’t just losing a position that had his nuts in his throat. It was how Henry overtook him with ease.
Meemaw Joy would tell him to hold that second-place trophy with pride.
But if his dad had been there, he would’ve reminded him that second place was the first loser.
That was a big if, because the last race his parents had attended was final race of last season—and only because it looked like Jake was going to take the championship title.
When he’d been a kid that would have bothered him.
But that was a long time ago. Now Jake knew better than to get caught up in what could be.
The only family he could count on besides his sister was his grandparents.
Who had watched on from the garage—Joy cussing up a storm whenever the F1 stewards made a questionable call.
Memories of Georgia weren’t a rare thing as of late. But letting them invade while on the track was just flat-out dangerous.
And here he’d thought she didn’t have any power over him. Man oh man, was he ever wrong. Those long lush legs, mossy green eyes that sparked when pissed. Don’t even get him started on those bee-stung lips—which were permanently engraved into his memories.
Ever since he’d run into her at a mutual friend’s wedding, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Then, like a dream from winters past, she showed up out of nowhere wreaking havoc on his psyche.
His gut had told him long ago that she’d eventually turn up when he wasn’t expecting it.
And his gut was never wrong. Sure, it had been nearly a decade, and a part of him had given up hope.
But nothing lasted forever, and people needed to find closure.
And then the universe had given him the chance to do just that, and he’d pissed it away. Call it ego or familiar wounds, but he couldn’t stand the thought that she’d only reached out for a favor.
He’d never seen her in that light. But as it turned out, besides his grandparents and two brothers-from-other-mothers, Henry and Enzo, she was no different than everyone else—thinking of him in terms of what he could provide. So for her to invade his thoughts was wrong on so many different levels.
Joke was on her though. Besides racing, he had nothing to give.
As it stood now, he was sixteen points behind Henry. It had been nine at the start of this race.
He’d understood from years of being competitors on the track what a fierce opponent Henry was. He wasn’t immune to the whispers or disappointment that came with losing the championship last year because he’d choked. His dad had actually shown, and Jake choked.
His grandparents’ house, located in Pine Village, a small rural community at the base of a range of majestic mountains, was the first of two places in Jake’s world that wasn’t dripping with responsibility or competitive shit.
Their ranch, which was on a Christmas tree farm, didn’t have room for stress or anxiety.
It was about family and fulfilling people’s Christmas wishes.
Then there was chopping trees with an ax. Manly shit.
The other place was with his buddies, even when they did make a fool out of him on and off the track. Which was why Jake felt himself relax when he saw his two best bros seated on director chairs, shoving each other and arguing about—Jake assumed—who was the best driver.
“You made it,” said Henry, the youngest and most responsible of the trio.
“We thought you were weeping like a baby in the bathroom,” Enzo said, his Italian accent making the “th” sound like a “d”. There was a distinct pattern and intonation to his words, most of them ending with an extra vowel, that made him a world class ladies’ man.
“Weep this,” Jake said, holding up a hand to the camera to hide his finger, which was flipping Enzo the bird.
“You want to talk about how you handed me another podium?” Henry asked.
“Mics,” Enzo said, pointing to the thousand and one cameras and mics around the room.
Jake set his helmet on the shelf and, picking up a towel, slid onto his chair. He ran the cloth down his face to wipe away the residual sweat left over from driving seventy-two laps at over two hundred miles per hour. He sighed.
What a fucking disappointment.
He had two weeks to get his shit together if he were to take first at the upcoming Abu Dhabi race.
The three winners watched the highlights of the race, making comments on their strategy and where they came up short or succeeded.
All the things the fans live for. Jake did his five-minute sentence in the room and then stood.
They only had a few minutes to take the podium, and he had to hit the head.
He was two steps out the door when Henry stopped and turned to face the rest of them.
“Back to you going wide, what the hell happened? And don’t you dare say—”
“The yips.” Jake shook his head. “The media is right. I’ve got the fucking yips.”
“You don’t have the yips,” Henry said, his British accent making him sound like an expert on everything from global warming to how to bake a souffle. “It’s just a little performance anxiety.”
“Does this performance anxiety follow you to the bedroom?” Enzo, his former best friend, asked.
“Fuck you.”
“You’re not my usual type.”
“Seriously, what happened?” Henry asked.
“I had a momentary lapse in focus.”
“The only kind of thing that could cost you a guaranteed win would be a woman,” Henry said. “Trust me I know.”
“It’s not a woman.”
It was the woman. The one who ran over his heart, put it in reverse, and ran over it again—until all that was left was roadkill.
“Liar. It’s that woman you saw at Henry and Jane’s wedding,” Enzo said, referring to Henry’s little sister who recently tied the knot at a lavish wedding in London. The same wedding where he bumped into Georgia.
“We met back in college,” he’d said.
“It was a long time ago,” she had said that day at the wedding.
Casual as can be. As if they’d been nothing more than passing acquaintances. When in reality, they’d been lovers and, he’d thought, soul mates. When he’d been with her, he felt as if he belonged. As if he’d found his person and was no longer going through life alone.
Another thing he’d been wrong about. Well, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Once burned and all that.
“I thought you’d said Georgia was just an old flame.” Henry laughed as if he knew something Jake didn’t. Asshole. “Guess it’s still flickering.”
Flicker didn’t even begin to explain what had been going on in his chest last week. Not that he was going to tell that to Curly and Moe. Instead, he remained mum on the topic.
“I heard she surprised you in your trailer when you were in nothing but your bare ass. The full monty. And right after an ice bath.”
“Oh merda!” Enzo snorted. “What a way to impress the lady. All three inches of you.”
“More like eight inches. Flaccid,” Jake lied. He’d been so shocked his nuts had curled up inside his body. Then there had been the way she’d glared at him when he took his sweet-ass time getting his towel. Man, she’d been blistering. Just the memory had him smiling.
What had him sweating was the look she’d given him once they’d been a breath apart. He’d been teasing her about going in for a kiss. Then he’d seen the confused look in her eyes—like she might actually welcome the kiss—and he’d nearly blew his wad.
“I know that look,” Enzo said. “That prick right there wears it a lot.” He jerked his chin toward Henry, who was recently married.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Jake said. “Just two old friends saying hi.”
Henry burst out laughing and Enzo asked, “Then what’s the big issue with working with her?”
“How did you know about the offer?”
Henry laughed. “Mate, everyone knows about it.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Define everyone.”
“She told Jane,” Henry said, referring to his wife. “And Jane told me.”
“And Henry told me, and I told the pit crew,” Enzo said.
“Well, that fun game of telephone has it wrong. She needed a favor. I said no.”
Henry looked him dead in the eye. “When do you ever turn down a charity? Especially The Wish Project?”
“Since it conflicts with my trip home to visit my grandparents.”
“I call bullshit,” Enzo said. “She said she’d move what she could so it would be closer to Pine Village. So the grandparents thing is a cop-out.”
“It isn’t just one day. It’s a gala, an auction, a photoshoot, and then going to a Christmas thing.”
“The thing is surprising a sick kid with a visit from his hero,” Henry said. “Even a broken heart can’t stop you from saying yes.”
“I never said she broke my heart.”
Henry’s expression was soft. “You didn’t need to. It’s written all over your face.”
?
“Just how big are we talking?” Roxy, Georgia’s dear friend and computer hacker, asked.
Roxy was the kind of woman who would rather go ax throwing than go shopping. She was the tech extraordinaire for Bride Buddies, a rent-a-bridesmaid business that their third musketeer, Jane, founded.
Today Roxy was wearing a black leather skirt, a black fun fact, i don’t care tank, and black combat shoes, completing her bad girl vibe.
“Was it a ‘I once caught a fish this big’ size?” Jane asked, putting her fingers a few inches apart. “Or ‘I need a forklift to hoist the thing up’ size?”
If Roxy was a boss babe, Jane was a steel magnolia, which made them the perfect business partners.