Trust the Push Read online

  Could anything else go wrong with this day? When we went to load the car this afternoon, I could tell something was off. After a few practice runs around our track here at the house, we figured the rear bearings needed to be replaced. Not a huge issue, but before race day, it sucks balls. Shit isn’t supposed to go wrong the day before we leave. On top of that, the hauler needed to be stocked with food and drinks, which required me to go to the grocery store. Normally, this too is not an issue, but they had two lanes open for fifty shoppers. I stood in line for thirty minutes, which of course, put me in a bad mood. Who has time for that? Normally, this is something my mom would help out with. She’s retired now and says she enjoys it, that it gives her something to do. However, she and my father are on vacation in Aruba. Thanks to yours truly. What in the hell was I thinking when I booked it midseason? Oh, right, I wasn’t thinking. I just called the travel agent and told her to make it happen.

  Rookie mistake.

  Then, I walk in the shop and find a sexy-as-sin redhead asleep on the couch. My first thought was she was a groupie who’d somehow snuck her way in. I admit that I looked my fill of her before demanding to know who she was. Her big green eyes, sleepy and confused, and those full pouty lips. Fuck, she’s a looker. With a glance I could tell she wasn’t the groupie type, which means she’s not for me. Not that I’m against settling down, but this life… it’s hard. Traveling the majority of the week, being away from friends and family. I’ve been fortunate enough that my closest friends are my crew, and my parents, who are both technically retired if you don’t count the work they do for me, travel with us most of the time as well.

  I see the strain it puts on the other drivers and their significant others. I hear their kids crying that they miss them on the days they do make it to the track. Why would I want to put my wife and kids through that? I’m at a point in my life where relationships of that nature are a low priority. I’m the youngest driver to win two championships. I’m the youngest driver to win back-to-back championships. This year, I want to break both of those records.

  My focus is racing.

  I have zero time for a relationship. So, I don’t do it. I have the occasional random hookup—one night, no strings—and it works for me. I have everything I need. Besides, it’s hard to know who you can really trust in this business. Most women see your fame or your fortune and look at you as a way for them to further their careers, or hell, even just a meal ticket. I have no interest in either one, no matter how hot she is.

  Double checking that I have everything loaded in the hauler, I head back to the shop for the same reason I was there earlier. I need to grab some more tear-offs for my helmet. I got distracted by the auburn-haired beauty.

  Aubree.

  Her name fits her. She distracted me, so here I am retracing my steps. As soon as I enter the room, I hear a low deep moan.

  “Right there, oh, that’s it,” Rick moans loudly.

  I freeze, stopping in my tracks. If he’s fucking her on the couch, I’m going to kick his ass. The pulled muscle in his back will be the last thing he has to worry about. Moving toward the couch, I stop and take in what’s happening. Aubree is sitting on Rick’s back, straddling him, right over his ass, as she has both hands massaging and working his back. He moans again, as if what she’s doing to him is better than sex.

  “This how you work on all your patients?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m fully aware my stance and the tone of my voice makes me sound like a dick. I’m good with that. There is just something about this girl that rubs me the wrong way.

  Her head pops up, and those green eyes look alarmed and… angry. This little redhead definitely has fire inside of her. “This is not normal working conditions,” she snips. “Normally, I would have a table.”

  “So, where is it? Where’s your table?”

  She huffs out a breath, causing the hair hanging over her eyes to blow out then fall right back where it was. “I came straight from the office. We don’t have portable tables there. I didn’t want to waste time going home to get mine, so we are working with what we have.”

  “Right.” I give a derisive laugh. “You didn’t want to waste time going home to get yours, yet you had plenty of time to fall asleep on my couch.”

  “Your couch?”

  “That’s right. Who do you think owns this place?”

  “That’s irrelevant. I’m here to do a job. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  “Come on, man, let her finish. I never would have believed this would help. Ash was onto something,” Rick says, his words muffled as he speaks into the couch.

  “Ash? What does she have to do with her?” Just my luck she and Ash are friends, and the sexy temptress will be hanging around more. I don’t need the distraction or the temptation, not with a girl like her. Without a doubt, she would want nothing to do with my one-night stand mantra.

  “This was her idea. She suggested massage,” Rick tells me.

  “Make sure you don’t get that shit on the couch.”

  “What the fuck, Blaine? It’s the shop couch. We sit on it with way worse on our clothes,” Rick says, lifting his head as much as he can to be heard.

  “I don’t want to sit down and get up smelling like a bitch.”

  “Excuse me?” She stops and looks up at me, blazing fire in those green eyes of hers.

  “You know, the smell of that shit. Smells like a woman, or one of those stores in the mall.”

  “It’s menthol,” she says, deadpan.

  “Well, whatever it is, I don’t want to smell like it.” I turn and walk off. In the shop, I gather the extra tear-offs before I forget them for a second time and take a look around, making sure there is nothing that we’ve forgotten.

  “Ash just pulled up,” Kevin says, walking toward me. “She picked up some pizza.”

  “She coming with us this go ’round?” I ask him. His wife, Ashley, is a receptionist at a law office here in Knoxville. She only works part-time, but her schedule does not always coincide with her being able to travel with us. Much to her husband’s dismay.

  “Nah, not this time,” he tells me.

  Kevin Henderson has been my best friend since the sixth grade. We bonded over our love of racing—both of us equally surprised that the other knew what dirt track racing was. Our fathers were big fans and passed that on to us. Kev and I took our love for the sport to a whole new level. I love the thrill of being behind the wheel of a car, going into the turns, never lifting, the adrenaline. Kev, his love is the mechanical side. Making the car purr as he likes to call it. I can tell him what I’m feeling and together, we make it the best car on the track. We work well together. I’m lucky to have him on my team.

  “Next time,” I console.

  “Yeah, we’re gonna start trying,” he says with a grin. “Fucking stoked and scared all at the same time.”

  “That’s gonna be hard, man.” I could not imagine having a baby and being gone as much as we are. It’s selfish but I hope he stays with me on the team as my crew chief. I wouldn’t hold it against him if he decided not to. I just can’t see being away from your family like that.

  “I know, but it’ll be worth it. You know you can’t stay a bachelor forever.”

  “Says who?”

  “You’re an only child. You really going to deprive your momma of grandkids?”

  I run my fingers through my hair. “Fine,” I concede. “Maybe one day, but right now, I want this championship.” That’s the goal. Eyes on the prize.

  His phone dings. “She’s here. Let’s eat.” With a slap to my shoulder, he quickens his strides as he makes his way into what we like to call the lounge or living area of the shop to meet his wife.

  I take my time, taking one last look, slowly going through my mental checklist to make sure that we have everything we need this weekend. Once I’m satisfied, tear-offs in hand, I join them in the lounge.

  “Guys, I’m telling you. You need a massage,” Rick says, standing from t
he couch. He turns this way and that, testing out the muscles in his back. “You’re a miracle worker.” He picks Aubree up and spins her around. Her laughter rings out throughout the room. It’s almost if she has this sweet yet innocent air about her. What game is she playing?

  “You done playing?” I call out to him.

  “Blaine, don’t knock it until you try it.”

  My eyes move to her, to Aubree, to find her already watching me. “That what you want, sweetheart? For me to give you a try?” I smirk. “Ouch,” I say when I feel a not-so-hard punch to my arm.

  “Be nice,” Ashley scolds me. “Aubree, thank you for coming last minute. Come eat with us.”

  “You’re welcome, and thank you, but I grabbed a sandwich on my way here.”

  “That was hours ago. Eat,” Kevin encourages.

  “Really, I should get going. It’s been a long day.” She turns her attention to Rick. “You should drink plenty of water to help wash out the toxins. I would suggest another in a week or so. You might be sore tomorrow, but it will be better than the pain,” she explains.

  “Thank you, Aubree. I feel better already.”

  “I bet you do,” I mumble under my breath. Forcing myself to turn away from her, I grab a couple of slices and toss them on a paper plate. On their own accord, my feet carry me to the couch, where I plop down and put my feet up on the table. I ignore her while I shovel bite after bite of the greasy pizza into my mouth. It’s not until I’m finished with my first slice that I realize I haven’t eaten all day.

  “Excuse me,” she says, standing beside me. She has her bag full of whatever it was she was using that’s smelling up the place on her arm.

  I contemplate making her step over, but decide against it. Instead, I drop one leg then the other, allowing her space to pass. I check her out as she walks away, and I can’t help but wonder what she looks like out of those scrubs. Pity I’ll never know.

  “How much do I owe you?” I ask Ash once the pizzas have been devoured.

  “Nothing.”

  “Really, tell me how much. I appreciate you taking care of me this week.”

  “It wasn’t just for you.” She shakes her head.

  “I know that, but you know what I mean.”

  “I do, and it was Little Caesars so it was inexpensive. You don’t owe me anything.”

  Reaching into my wallet, I pull out a fifty-dollar bill and shove it into her purse that’s hanging off her shoulder. “I appreciate it.” I wink and then rush out the door knowing she’d try to fight me on it. As soon as I exit, I see red hair crouching next to a red Impala.

  Aubree.

  She’s petting my boxer, Camber, and the traitor is lapping up the attention like she never gets any. She’s the most spoiled dog on the planet. “Camber!” I yell out for her. Her ears perk up, and she turns her head but makes zero effort to move away from the back scratch that Aubree is giving her. I walk toward them, and neither my traitor of a dog or the gorgeous redhead seem to care. “Thought you left,” I say when I’m just a few feet away.

  “That was the plan,” she says, all her focus remaining on my dog.

  “What stopped you?”

  She points to her back left-side tire that’s completely flat. “That.”

  “You don’t know how to change a tire?” I ask. “Isn’t that something that all dads teach their daughters?”

  “I wouldn’t know. Mine hated me, so….” She shrugs, hurt crossing her face.

  I’m taken aback at her bluntness of the situation. I also feel like a piece of shit for obviously upsetting her. “So, you just going to sit out here all night and pet my dog?” I reach out and scratch Camber behind the ears.

  “I called AAA.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her. “You did what?”

  “I called AAA. They should be here soon. I’m sorry if I’m in the way.”

  “You called AAA, when you’re in the driveway of a race shop?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I know you’re not happy I’m here, and it’s not any of your responsibilities to take care of me. I can do it on my own.”

  “With AAA?”

  “I pay them for this exact reason.”

  “Call them back. Tell them it’s taken care of.” I’m already walking around to the back of her car. “Pop the trunk.”

  “What? No, it’s fine. They should be here any minute.”

  “I call bullshit. They always take forever. Pop the trunk and cancel them. I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

  “Really, you don’t have to do this.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at her. “Aubree. Pop the damn trunk.”

  “Fine,” she grumbles, reaching in through the driver’s side window and hitting the button.

  There is a blanket and an auto emergency kit, you know the kind with flares and jumper cables. I smile because even though she has it, I can almost guarantee that she has no clue how to use them. At least she’s prepared for the worst. Lifting the bottom, I verify that she does indeed have a spare. I shut the trunk and head toward the shop.

  “That’s it? All that pop the trunk”—she tries to make her voice deep—“and you walk away.”

  Stopping in my tracks, I turn on my heel and face her. “I’m going to get the portable air compressor.”

  “Um, I have a flat,” she says slowly, like she needs to be as clear as possible for me to understand.

  “I know that, smartass. I’m going to put air in your tire so you can drive around to the garage doors. I’m going to put it on the lift to change it. If you drive on it like it is now, you’ll destroy your wheels.”

  “Sounds like a lot of trouble. Really, AAA will be here soon.”

  “Cancel,” I say again before turning back around and heading toward the garage for the portable air compressor.

  I watch him walk away. His jeans are tight in all the right places, worn and faded from hours in the shop I’m sure. He may be an asshole, but his ass is fine. I’m tempted to pull out my cell phone and snap a picture for Maria, my best friend. Then I remind myself I’m a professional and I’m here for a professional matter. In all honesty, he walks too damn fast, and I knew he would be too far away if not already inside the garage by the time I had the camera ready.

  Leaning in through the window, I grab my phone and call AAA. “Hi, I need to cancel a call I put in about thirty minutes ago. My name is Aubree Chance.” I wait while they pull up my account.

  “Ms. Chance, we’re running behind and it will be at least another hour.”

  Gah. Thankfully, Blaine is willing to help. “I need to cancel,” I tell her again.

  “I’m truly sorry for your delay. I’ve got your appointment canceled in our system.”

  “Thank you.” Once I end the call, I toss my phone back through the window and it lands on the seat with a thud.

  “You get through?” His deep voice comes from behind me, causing me to jump.

  “Yeah, it was going to be another hour before they could get here. Thank you. For helping me. I appreciate it.”

  He doesn’t acknowledge my thank you; instead, he gets to work putting air into my tires. I watch him as he works, all the while petting Camber—at least I think that’s what he called her. Not that she’s giving me a choice. She touches her nose to my hand every time that I stop. She’s such a sweet dog. Nothing like her owner.

  “All right, give me the keys.” He stands and holds his hand out.

  “I can drive,” I insist. It’s a shame his good looks have been wasted on such an arrogant asshole.

  “Suit yourself. Drive around back. Put her in bay three.” He picks up the portable air compressor and heads back toward the garage.

  Opening my door with a huff, I’m almost knocked over when Camber jumps inside. “You want to go for a ride?” She barks and I have my answer. “Okay, well, you have to move over.” I wave my hand to get her to jump over the console into the passenger seat. Once I’m settled behind the wheel, I reach over and scratch beh
ind her ears. “Good girl.”

  Doing as he said, I drive around to the back of the building and realize there are four bays. Did he mean third from the left or third from the right? I’m going with third from the left, that’s the most logical with the third from the right, which is the second door in my eyes.

  “I said third door,” he calls out.

  “This is the third door,” I call back out the window. Backing up, I start to pull into bay two and realize he wants me to drive it on the lift contraption. “I don’t want to wreck,” I say, hanging my head out the window to look at where I’m going.

  “I told you to let me drive.”

  “You didn’t tell me I’d have to drive it up on this thing,” I point to the lift.

  “Climb out.” He opens my door. I do as he says, not because he can boss me around, but because I don’t want to wreck my car. Furthermore, I don’t want to hit anything or cause any damage to his shop either. It’s best if I sit this one out.

  Camber barks when Blaine climbs in, making him laugh. I watch as a smile lights up his face. He really is handsome. Dark hair, hazel eyes that make you feel as if he can see right through you. He’s sporting a few days of stubble on his face, not quite a beard, but in another couple of days, it would be. Then there’s his muscles. His black T-shirt is stretched tight around his arms. I’m envisioning a story where my favorite author referred to it as arm porn. I totally get the appeal after meeting Blaine.

  I stand by and watch as he pulls my car onto the lift and begins to jack it up. Camber keeps me company, and before I realize it, he’s lowering the lift and backing my car out of the garage. It took no time at all. “Thank you,” I say when he steps out.

  “That donut will get you home, but you really need to take this and get it repaired or buy a new one.” He’s straight to the point once again with no acknowledgment of my thank-you. I’m not sure what his deal is, but he’s maddening.