Read Online Right Before His Eyes by Wendy Etherington - Free Book Online

cold shower shocked away the craziest of his plans, which involved grabbing her and running away to Bermuda for the next month.
    When he knocked on her door fifteen minutes later, she answered while she was brushing her hair. “I’ve still got three minutes.”
    â€œI missed you.”
    â€œYou’re crazy,” she said, pulling an elastic band off her wrist, obviously intending to pull her hair back in her usual ponytail.
    He snagged the band. “Leave it down.”
    â€œIt’s a mess,” she protested. “Twenty minutes doesn’t give me time to wash it.”
    He threaded his fingers through the fiery locks. “It’s beautiful.”
    Her eyes softened at the compliment. The reaction made him realize people didn’t compliment her often. Her food, her efficiency, her diner, but not her.
    More than anything he wanted to reach back into her past and pummel whatever idiot had damaged her spirit.
    â€œPlease?” he asked. “You can turn into Sheila the Diner Queen tomorrow.”
    â€œOkay, fine.” She looped the elastic band back around her wrist. “Next time you eat hairless mashed potatoes, you should say a silent prayer of thanks for the invention of the ponytail.”
    â€œYou bet.”
    â€œI need mascara and lip gloss, and I’ll be ready.” She rushed into the bedroom, returning a couple of minutes later. “All set,” she said, grabbing her purse off the coffee table.
    He let his gaze rove her from head to toe. Again, a Double S polo and jeans had never looked so remarkable. “How am I going to keep my hands off you all day?”
    She glided her hand down the center of his chest. “You should have brought the motor home—convenience and privacy.”
    â€œGood point.” He grinned as an idea occurred to him. “But that’s not the only place we can be alone.”
    â€œYou want to make out between the haulers?”
    â€œNo, inside one of them.” He gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll show you.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    â€œG IL, ARE YOU SURE that door’s locked?”
    He gave her a “Mmm” that Sheila took to be a yes and continued trailing his lips along her neck.
    The race had reached the halfway point, and though all four of the Double S cars were still in the hunt, Bart Branch was the class of the field.
    Surprisingly, Gil didn’t seem too upset.
    He’d been attentive and caring all morning, patiently answering her many questions. Every time he had to leave her side, he made sure somebody else was watching out for her.
    She’d spent the race on top of the war wagon behind Rafael’s pit box. His crew chief, Denton Moss, sat in a swivel chair right next to her, so she got to witness every intimate detail of the team’s fight to win. Gil even provided a set of headphones so she could hear Denton and Rafael’s radio communications.
    The perspective was completely different from the one she’d had in the grandstands, but just as exhilarating.
    Eventually, though, the heated glances between her and Gil had gotten to be too much, and he’d led her into Rafael’s hauler, down the narrow hallway of equipment lockers and past team members, straight to the back, where there was a small office containing a computer station, a love seat and a couple of folding chairs.
    Gil’s mouth found hers, and she breathed in his familiar taste and scent. She couldn’t count on his attention and touch for long, but she wasn’t about to squander a single moment.
    When she ran out of breath, and her head was ready to spin off her shoulders, she broke away, leaning her forehead against his. “Are you prepared for Bart to win?”
    â€œThree and a half races and you’re the expert now, are you?” He kissed her cheek. “Race isn’t over till the checkered flag waves.”
    â€œWhatever you say.”
    â€œYou do want one of my guys to