Page 22 of You Wish
She buckled up, a small, wry smile breaking through. “That’s why I brought the combat boots.”
He pulled onto the road, the tension humming just beneath the banter. “Still planning for every possible disaster, huh?”
She glanced out the window, voice light but layered. “Some disasters you can’t plan for. The rest? You overpack.”
8
“You can’t avoid me for the entire trip,” Jake said.
Georgia kept her gaze on her phone. “I’m not avoiding you.”
A total lie.
She’d been avoiding him, unsuccessfully, since he arrived unannounced on her doorstep. It was bad enough that he was rocking a pair of low-slung jeans that encased his ass perfectly. Now there they were walking through the Austin raceway to grab his uniform for the upcoming photoshoot.
Well, he was walking slightly ahead and she pretended to otherwise be occupied. But as he made his way down the hallway, her tongue turned to silk and stayed put.
Race car drivers weren’t built like football players or MMA fighters; they were more like Calvin Klein underwear models, with lean, sinewed muscles that ran vertically. And practically zero percent body fat.
The least amount of weight when racing the better.
He slowed his pace to match hers and lowered his sunglasses to look over them. “You haven’t spoken a word in a half hour.”
“I’m checking my email to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
“Really? Because it looks like you’re scrolling on Instagram.”
Busted.
She put her phone in her pocket. “You want me to be honest?”
“Always,” he said in that soft, familiar tone that still made her toes curl. They were practically melding with the soles of her feet.
“I don’t know what to say. Once upon a time I knew you better than I knew myself. But we aren’t those people anymore.”
He took a long pause as if trying to figure out what to say. Finally, when he spoke it was in a hushed tone. “Then let’s start from scratch. Tell me about this project.”
“Well. The gala is on the twenty-first.”
“What color is your dress so I can match my cummerbund.”
She bit back a snicker. “This isn’t prom.”
“So no corsage?”
This time she met his gaze and holy moly his gaze was intense. She had to swallow before answering. “We are going as colleagues.”
“I’ll find out the color.”
She rolled her eyes. “The most important part is the Christmas party with Ben and his family on the twenty-third. Oh, we have the photo shoot on the twentieth. I found a man near your grandparents who has a classic sports car collection. He agreed to let us use a few for the shoot.”
“Darryl Morter? We’ve met. Actually we’re pretty good friends.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course you are.”
“I’ve been out to his place a few times. His collection is legendary. My grandpa and I used to go there when I was a kid.”
Georgia could imagine a little Jake walking around all those hot rods and racing cars, his eyes big and brain cataloguing every detail of every car. It reminded her of the time when he wasstill in Formula 2 and he showed her his race car. He’d been so excited, he was bouncing on his toes. Then he dressed her up in full gear and had her climb in the car. The way he looked at her, as if he knew she fit into all the parts of his world, made her feel so precious and loved.
