Read Online On the Edge by Pamela Britton - Free Book Online Page B

again.

    “Thanks,” she said, her hand holding the papers down. “Look,” she said after the trunk lid slammed with an audible pop. “I’m probably going to eat up in my room, so you—”

    “Don’t.”

    “Don’t what?”

    “Don’t eat up in your room. Eat dinner with me.”

    “I beg your pardon?”

    He looked away for a moment, knowing he needed to get this right. He didn’t want to sound unprofessional, but he didn’t want her to think he was merely being polite, either. “Have dinner with me,” he said, suddenly deciding that to heck with it. He liked Becca Newman. What would it hurt to get to know her better?

    “I need company tonight,” he admitted. “Usually, I have Lindsey around to calm me down whenever I’m amped up, but she’s not around and I really wish she was. So do you mind standing in for her?”

    “Mr. Drake—”

    He lifted his brow at her relapse into formality.

    “Adam,” she corrected. “I have a lot of files to review. Even though we’ve cut the field in half, tomorrow will be just as grueling as today, and Wednesday will be even harder and so I really need to study the drivers’ profiles.”

    “Please?”

    “I don’t think—”

    “I promise not to make a pass at you.”

    Green eyes widened. “I never thought that you would.”

    “But you’re worried about it, aren’t you? Don’t,” he said, squirming a bit at the lie. “I admired your husband too much to ever disrespect his widow.”

    But instead of the relief he expected to see, what flitted through her eyes was something almost like irritation. But it was gone so quickly he might have imagined it.

    “Thank you,” she said, a silent “I think” tacked onto the end of that sentence—or so he suspected.

    “We can go to a restaurant if you like,” he said. “If that would make you feel better?”

    “No,” she said with a sharp shake of her head. “That’s not necessary.”

    “Are you sure?”

    “I’m sure.”

    BUT SHE WASN’T SURE.

    In fact, as she changed into some cotton capris and a casual yellow top, she found herself thinking she’d been a fool to agree.

    I admired your husband too much to ever disrespect his widow.

    What the heck did that mean? Was she so dried up and dusty from lack of, well, lack of that that she no longer appealed to men? Or was he seriously too in awe of her husband’s memory to try to touch her?

    Shouldn’t you be glad he doesn’t want to touch you?

    Don’t answer that, she told herself firmly.

    So she went downstairs a few minutes later, no closer to understanding why Adam Drake had her riled than she was before. He’d been a perfect gentleman every time he’d come near her.

    Maybe that was the problem.

    Maybe she wanted him to touch her, the way Cece had teased earlier. They’d been standing near pit road right after Adam’s test session and she’d hit her friend in the arm when Cece had said that. Only now she wondered if Cece had been right.

    “There you are,” Adam said as she slipped out of the house and onto the patio, where Michelle had set out dinner. Fajitas by the look of it, she thought, eyeing a tray of grilled veggies and meat. One of Becca’s favorites. The smell of cooked onions alone made her mouth water.

    “I was about to dig into this stuff without you.”

    “You should have,” Becca said, suddenly aware of how nervous she’d become. No, not nervous. Terrified. “I wouldn’t have minded.” She swiped a lock of hair from her face. Why had she left it down? Why had she taken the time to curl it so that the ends brushed her cheeks and tickled her ears?

    “I wouldn’t do that to you,” he said.

    It was a perfect evening for dinner poolside. The sky was a vivid pink near the horizon, turning orange and then blue and then purple near a star-studded sky. Clouds were backlit by the setting sun, turning the edges bright silver, the insides of the clouds a purple so dark they looked like spilled ink.

    “Do