Page 11 of Midnight Racers

Shit.

“Okay, let me show you what I observed about your set-up and how you can improve it.” I stood on my tiptoes with my trusty spanner in my hand and started to talk my way through the engine and all the connections leading to and from it. “The engine is the heart of the car, and it needs to have all the essential arteries and veins.”

Flynn stood beside me and watched everything, never once making comment. Some of the guys back at my old factory used to laugh at me when I likened a car to a living being. It was the way my mind viewed it and I wouldn’t be able to change it now.

“So, what do you think?” I asked, taking a step back.

“Impressive. I like your ideas about upgrading the engine. There are a few problems that might create in the driving dynamic, but we should be able to iron them out.”

My eyes narrowed on him. “Jordan said you’re the driver.”

“I am, but I also know more about what happens under the bonnet than anyone else. It’s my ass on the line out there.”

That surprised me since Dale rarely took anything to do with the preliminary work. He only got involved when we got to the testing phases.

“Did Jay show you our latest project?” Flynn asked, waving his arm for me to follow him.

There was another unit at the back of this one. My key card hadn’t opened it earlier, but Flynn’s did. He flipped the light switch and all the overhead spotlights came on to reveal a shiny black IndyCar.

I took an involuntary step forward. “I thought you were rally only,” I said, transfixed by the beautiful bodywork.

“We were at the start, but we wanted to try something different. Jay and I are adrenaline junkies and speed feeds that addiction, whether it be boats, jets, bikes, or cars.”

I knew exactly what he was talking about since I loved the sensation of moving at speed. “There’s a calm in the middle of the storm,” I replied, moving to inspect the beast that could move much quicker than the other car. “A moment when you and the car become one and nothing else exists.”

His head canted to the side as he watched me. “Do you race?”

I shook my head. “My brother Dale was the racer. I did a lot of the testing before it went to him for final approval.” I grimaced. “This is still very much a man’s sport.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean women can’t race if they want to.”

A bitter laugh escaped from me. “I wanted to, but my balls are on the inside.”

Flynn nodded, his expression serious. “Mine were inside for a moment earlier. It wasn’t pleasant.”

He was mocking himself, but his forlorn face made me laugh..

“Yeah, well, don’t sneak up on people and put a gun to their head,” I cautioned.

My fingers trailed over the sleek bodywork. This had been my dream. I had always wanted to work on one of these beasts, had even studied the way they were built and had had ideas about how to modify and improve every piece of them.

“How does she run?” I asked.

“Smooth like melted chocolate,” Flynn replied. “There’s an issue with the cornering, and we need to tighten up her suspension.”

He stopped and stared at the car as if communicating with her for a moment.

“I work on her when I get some spare time.” Flynn touched the top of the car with his index finger. “It’s not nearly enough, but my work pays the bills and keeps me busy.”

I nodded. Someone had to finance all this and there were no sponsorships on the side of the car, which was rare. “I can help, if you want. I’ve never physically worked on one of these cars before, but I’ve done a lot of research. Dad always talked about the IndyCar circuit.”

“I guess I should give you security clearance for in here, to save another alarm activation,” Flynn said. “And you should know there is CCTV in this part of the building that runs twenty-four hours a day.”

“I’ll try not to work in my panties then,” I quipped.

“I wouldn’t object, but I feel awkward if people don’t know they’re there. Jordan was furious when I caught him singing into a spanner one day.” He grinned and it transformed him into a gorgeous stranger again. One that made me want to break all my rules.

The worst part of meeting Flynn was that for the first time, I was aware of my baggy overalls and hair shoved in a messy bun under my baseball cap. I rarely wore make-up and tended to roll my eyes at the women who were constantly dressed in cute outfits with perfect hair and make-up.

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