Shifting Gears (8 page)

It felt like she was holding back some of the best parts of herself on purpose. And damn if he wasn't curious about
all
her parts.

By the time they'd wrapped up, Ranger and Kerri had arrived, and this time after they'd reconvened to talk about hiring her, there'd been no hesitation. Everyone had loved her and believed she would be perfect for the job.

Which meant he had to be on his best behavior. It didn't matter that he was phasing out of Hart Racing. Annabelle was part of the Hart Racing family now. She was under his care, and that meant protecting her, not laying her back on his desk and having her rough and fast during their lunch break.

Not that he'd fantasized about that overmuch. Only about a hundred times already.

Shit, he had it bad.

Grady got up from his desk and walked over to the windows that looked out into the garage. His eyes immediately found Annabelle, chatting with the crew in the first bay, where they were doing some work on Kerri's car.

Two days in and she'd already charmed everyone, which only added to her appeal, which had already amplified with every second that had passed when they'd sat down to talk over those two mugs of black coffee. She was smart and funny and nice, and that direct gaze combined with the pretty flush that spread over her cheeks every time she got excited did something to him.

Not to mention how straight-up hot she was. Today, she was wearing a fitted pink dress with some sort of ruffled thing on one side that drew attention to her perfectly-rounded ass. He was having to work extra hard to keep his eyes off it, but he'd be damned if he was going to come on to her like some jerk who got a kick out of lusting after women who worked for his family.

Below, on the garage floor, Danny, their youngest mechanic, said something to Annabelle that made her throw back her head and laugh.

Grady felt like growling. Because the thing was … he didn't want anyone else to come on to her, either. But before he could process what he felt, a voice came over the PA in the office.

“Annabelle, please come up to my office.”

Fogerty. The guy had been hanging around the office as part of his trial period, picking up some of the work on the cars before this coming weekend's race, and while he hadn't been in the way or done anything terrible, Grady still hadn't been able to shake the irritation he felt whenever the man was around.

Now, hearing Fogerty's disembodied voice echoing throughout the building, Grady had another strange feeling. Almost like a warning that zapped him in the back of his neck and propelled him out of his office just in time to see Annabelle stepping into the office they'd given Fogerty for his temporary position. And then Grady did something that he never would have considered doing before that moment.

He walked quietly down the hall to eavesdrop.

“What do you need, Matt?”

He came up on the doorway in time to hear Annabelle, noticing that her voice sounded clipped. Icy, almost. Strange. Annabelle got along really well with the rest of the team and she was tactfully direct. But somehow, with Fogerty, she was almost rude.

“We need to schedule some sessions at Blue's shop on the dyno. I need a few hours for Lee's truck this week and Kerri's car next. We'll be taking the car with us to Delaware this weekend, so schedule something for next Tuesday or Wednesday.”

Grady waited a second, but Fogerty didn't say anything else. Fine, so the weird, suspicious feeling Grady had gotten was unfounded. Maybe Grady didn't like that Fogerty hadn't said “please,” but it wasn't as though he had the power to fire the guy over something like not having better manners.

Damn. He was acting jealous and possessive, and over a woman he had no right to feel that way about.

He turned to walk away, but Annabelle spoke, and he froze in place, too curious to leave. “About that … I was looking through the old dyno reports and—”

Fogerty cut her off. “Why were you bothering with that? We've got new regulations now. None of the old stuff matters. Besides, what do you know about it? That's not your job, honey.”

Honey?

Jerk. Grady wanted to pound the guy's face in.

But Annabelle didn't acquiesce. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I know. But I think—”

“You're not being paid to think.” Fogerty gave a snide chuckle. “I'm not even sure you do that
off
the clock. So be a good girl, get your pretty little ass in gear, and do what I've told you to.”

Oh. Hell. No.

Grady had heard enough. He turned back around and practically stomped into Fogerty's office. Someone's head was about to fly.

*   *   *

At first, Annabelle had planned to let it go. Fogerty was annoying and a chauvinistic asshole, but she'd only been working here for a couple of days. She didn't want to rock that proverbial boat. But after his last insult, she'd had enough. The years of Donnie tearing her down, of her mother holding the very roof over her head hostage … they came to a fore when Fogerty sneered and said,
Do what I've told you to.

She didn't even mind his comment about her pretty ass as much as she minded his command that she follow orders like a stupid, blind sheep.
That
was the inexcusable part. She was going to be the woman she wanted to be, damn it. Brave. Independent. She was going to stand up for herself.

Across the desk between them, her eyes narrowed at Fogerty and she opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind—

When Grady thundered into the room looking like a rabid dog, ready to tear into anyone who crossed his path.

Uh oh.

Before she could tell him to stop, that she had this under control, he roared, “Get out! Get the fuck out of my building! You're fired!”

Fogerty had stood up and was bristling back. “Fuck you, Grady! You can't fire me,” he sneered. “You're a third-rate crew chief who nearly ran this company into the ground. You think anyone's going to care what you and some slut—”

But Fogerty's words were cut off when Grady closed the distance between them with a shout,
jumping
onto the desk and bringing his right fist into Fogerty's stomach.

The smarmy crew chief doubled over, retching, while Grady stood up on the desk and stared down at him, chest heaving. Even from where she stood, looking up at Grady, Annabelle could see that his arms were tense and ready, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl. He turned to her and jerked his chin up.

“You okay?”

She tried not to think that his testosterone-pumped posture was sexy. He'd defended her, and a part of her was swooning over it.

But another part of her was pissed as hell.

All that anger, all that
bravery
she'd been ready to unleash on Fogerty found a new target.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded, making Grady blink in confusion. But before he could answer, she heard footsteps running down the hallway just before Ranger and Bit—the most senior mechanic—pushed into the room.

Ranger took in the scene—Fogerty still slumped over the desk, Grady standing over him like a hunter with his felled deer—and shouted, “What the hell is going on here?”

“Fogerty insulted Annabelle. I was defending her honor.” Grady hopped off the desk and came to stand near Ranger, watching as Fogerty sat up, clutching his stomach.

Defending my honor?
Annabelle stiffened. She didn't need anyone to defend her. She wasn't that dependent—she
couldn't
be.

“Oh, and he's fired,” Grady added.

Ranger nodded. “Fine by me. Your methods are a little unconventional, but I can't fault your approach.”

“Fuck you both,” Fogerty groaned.

At that, Ranger and Grady actually
grinned.

Men.

Annabelle could feel the anger growing, fast and intense. She'd been gunning for a fight for the past two days, ever since she'd come home after getting the job here and told her mother, who hadn't protested at all like Annabelle had expected. All the arguments she'd prepared for why working in a garage was the right place for her had gone unused, and it had left her feeling tense and nervous instead of relieved.

She wanted to scream at Grady for taking over like he had, but while it was one thing to push back on Fogerty, unleashing her anger on Grady in front of all these people was something else entirely. Annabelle Murray might not be a pushover anymore, but she wasn't completely classless either.

So instead, she turned on her heel and left the room without another word, leaving the guys to deal with Fogerty and whatever came next. She'd only taken a few steps down the hall, though, when Grady came barreling after her.

“Annabelle. Wait.”

No more orders. No more obedience.

She knew she wasn't thinking rationally, but she was too keyed up right now. She needed to get away and be alone for a bit to clear her head, before she said—or did—something she'd regret.

“
Annabelle.
” Grady repeated. She could hear his frustration growing in his voice.

She ignored him and kept walking. Just in front of his office door, he passed her and stood in front of her, blocking her way. He was angry again, too, holding that same hulking posture she'd seen back in Fogerty's office.

It made her want to tackle him. To wrestle him to the floor and show him that she wasn't as weak and dependent as he seemed to think. She could fight her own battles, and she could win. That was who she wanted to be.

She lifted a hand, intending to push him aside, but even before her palm made contact, she knew it was a mistake to touch him at all. The memory of that kiss they'd both been ignoring, pretending had never happened, exploded in full force between their bodies, and the second her fingers curled around his shoulder, the anger between them changed into something else.

Lust.

“Fuck. Annabelle.” Grady's voice had changed, too, from an angry growl to a low, guttural groan, and the next thing she knew,
she
was tugging
him
into his office, slamming the door shut behind them and attacking his mouth with hers.

Chapter 6

There was no way Annabelle was letting Grady back away from this kiss. Not this time.

Not that she was worried he would, given how his mouth was sliding over hers in a hot, frantic caress, his hands squeezing her waist like he wanted to crush her to him and never let go.

She loved it.

His lips felt amazing. Soft but firm, pulling and sucking at her like she was some kind of delectable treat that he couldn't get enough of. She could taste the bitterness of his morning coffee on his tongue when he licked over the seam of her lips, and she opened herself to him, wanting to take all that bitterness and turn it into something sweet. Something hot.

His tongue slipped inside her mouth with just the right roughness to make her think of how he might thrust between her legs, hard and sure, but also with enough gentleness to make her feel like he really cared about
her.
About the Annabelle she
was,
not the expectation of what she
should be.

And
wow,
did he make her feel like a woman. He nibbled her bottom lip between his teeth and she arched, rubbing her suddenly-achy breasts against his chest and pushing her hips into his.

No. Not pushing. Grinding. So blatantly sexual that she felt desire start to overwhelm her again, just like it had the other day. But this time, she fought it. This time, she was going to see things through. And
oh, my.
She moaned at the feel of that thick, hard ridge between her legs.

Would it feel uncomfortable, or would it feel like the greatest, most sensual experience? All that hot hardness inside of her body. The very thought made her more aggressive, and she pushed harder against him, licking into his mouth, imagining being on top of him, riding up and down …

She moved her fingers to the buttons on his shirt and began to slide them open.

“Holy shit, Annabelle.” Grady tore his mouth away as he bit out the words, making them come out on a growl. He looked wild and flustered and so very sexy.

She undid another button.

His hands rubbed down her hips, grabbing the material of the skirt and pulling it up until the hem was at the top of her thighs and his fingers could easily reach between her legs and—

“Oh my
God,
” she gasped, her body jerking in pleasure as he cupped her mound through her pantyhose, making her arch and rub into the pressure. She had to bring her hands to his hard, flexing upper arms just to have something to hold onto so she wouldn't melt into the floor, but he didn't even flinch as she dug her nails into his muscles. Just pressed the heel of his hand even harder into her, moving it in slow circles until she was panting and moaning.

“Grady.” She needed him to stop, so she could get back to undressing him. She couldn't
do
anything like this, too lost in her own pleasure to focus on anything but that hand and those biceps … she didn't want to come and have it all end before she'd had a chance to do all the things she wanted to do.

“Grady,” she repeated, trying to wriggle away, but that only intensified the sensation. Oh, dear. She was so close.
Too
close. “I don't want—” she gasped. “I don't want this—”

She was going to say,
I don't want this to end,
but before she could get another word out, he was jerking his hand away, practically jumping back from her and frowning.

Why was he frowning? His shirt was half open but he didn't move to close it. He ran a hand through his hair like she'd noticed he did when he was flustered.

“Shit, Annabelle. Shit. I—I am so sorry. Really, I didn't know. I thought you were into it.
Shit.
”