Page 18 of Midnight Racers

“She’s running smoother, and I like what you’ve done with the suspension. Her ass is cornering a lot tighter.”

“There’s nothing worse than a saggy bottom,” I replied and his dimples appeared when he smiled.

The man had fucking dimples and the strangest colour of green eyes I’d ever seen.

I should just give up and lie in front of the car for him to drive over me and put me out of my misery.

Every woman had their own personal brand of kryptonite, and he was mixing up the component elements to create mine.

“Okay, let’s get her back into the factory since we can’t do any more until the parts arrive,” Flynn said. “Then we can spend the rest of the day on the project I really came to work on.”

I remained standing there and stared at him.

A lazy grin curved his full, sensual lips. “My IndyCar. I have her booked in for a race later this year and don’t want my ass handed to me.”

He’d just added fire to the other elements, and my poor, battered heart thudded heavily in my chest. I followed him like a lamb to the slaughter.

***

Chapter Seven

Flynn

Grandpa had been a mechanic by trade and had tinkered with cars long after he retired. While Mum was at work, he recruited me to help him to keep me out of the mischief I always managed to find without looking. He taught me to take a car apart and rebuild it piece at a time. Jordan was a fantastic driver, but my hands had built this racing team, and I took pride in every one of our accomplishments.

Charlotte watched my every action with my Honda, her bright blue gaze taking everything in while she chewed her bottom lip. She asked questions abouteverythingand had a thirst for knowledge that was unquenchable. Most women in my world were either oblivious to anything to do with racing or took interest only to try and gain my attention.

It was the reason I preferred to use the Midnight Rooms since no one asked questions or pretended to understand my world. Even I didn’t understand my world some days.

The silence as we worked didn’t grate on my nerves the way it often did, and she didn’t chitter about nonsense in the background. Charlotte wandered over to the music station filled with CDs after about an hour. She picked out a classic rock album and put it on, the garage flooding with music. Generally, no one got in here, so that was my personal music collection over there that I brought in to work to. I tended to listen to vinyl at home.

“So, I had been researching these type of setups for a while,” Charlotte said. “And I have a few suggestions.”

She stared down at her feet with her hands clasped in front of her as if waiting for bad news. Had this been what it was like back in her last factory?

“Sure, give me a sec here and I’ll be right with you.”

Her gaze finally crept up to meet mine. “I printed the schematics earlier. I spent some time apprenticing in the IndyCar circuit before I came home to work with Dad, and they opened my eyes to an entirely different world of racing and vehicle mechanics.” Her cheeks burned a delightful red shade. “I’ll go and get them from the other workshop.”

I watched her scurry out and an odd sensation made my chest tight. She was nothing like I expected. Everyone on the circuit had heard of James Jones and his protégée son Dale. The closely guarded secret was the daughter in the background making it all possible. In all my years lurking around and watching, I hadn’t heard her mentioned. They were either very protective or were arrogant enough to believe they could treat her like shit and keep her in the dark.

I would definitely have noticed her if she had been at any of the races. Her beauty was difficult to hide, even under baggy overalls and grease smeared on her face.

“Here it is.” Charlotte held up a scrolled-up paper in her hand. “The engines in each of these types of cars are so different. I think you need to rethink the entire front end.”

Not many people would be ballsy enough to tell me my car was set up wrong, but I was intrigued by what she was bringing to the table. She rolled the paper out, and placed weights on each corner to keep it in position.

“Okay, let’s start at the beginning,” she said. “We need to strip this back to basics and rethink the entire system through. Who else do you have on the team working on this?” She looked up at me and my mouth dried up.

“Just me,” I finally replied. “It’s been my private project. Jay supplies a lot of the funds for it, but I’m the resident grease monkey, so I come here in my spare time.”

Her head canted to the side. “Have you worked on these types of cars before?”

“Nope.” I grinned at her wide-eyed shocked expression. “Which is why it’s still in the garage.”

“Okay then. Let us start with the basics and work from there. It was a few years ago I worked on these cars, but I spent a lot of my time in that factory learning as much as I could. I kept up to date with all the latest developments because I didn’t know which way Dad wanted to go in the future.” She stopped talking, her teeth biting into her bottom lip since she’d mentioned her father.

“We don’t have to do this now,” I said. “Families can be funny. Some members are your best friends, others completely mental, and then there are the backstabbing bastards that are an enemy who got too close.”

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