Page 31 of Heart of the Race

“Last month. We all heard that this guy, Archer Del Toro, was gonna build a new bike.”

“Okay.”

“But it’s a joke, right, nothing serious. Word on the circuit is that he’s a playboy. Fast bikes, faster women, you get the idea.”

“Sure.”

“Thing is, though,” he said as he leaned all the way back against the concrete, hands clasped behind his head, long, hard muscled body stretched out beside me, “everything changes when we see Klaus Stein walking around the paddock with him, talking to guys and then checking the pit.”

“Who’s Klaus whoever?”

“He’s the bike designer behind innovations in⁠—”

“No.” I stopped him. “Don’t dazzle me with examples of stuff I have no clue about. He’s a bike builder from Germany with a name like Klaus, right?”

“Yeah.” He grinned up at me.

“Like, one of the top in the world?”

“Uh-huh, he’s totally respected by MSMA.”

I didn’t care what that stood for. What was important was what the conversation was building to. “And so what does this have to do with you?”

“Well, since I can’t be racing all over the world anymore because I’ve got plans for us, I made sure I was there, in Del Toro’s face, the next time I saw him.”

“Plans?”

“Yeah,” he said, rolling his head to his bent elbow as he reached for me.

I took his hand and relished the strength and warmth, the electric tingles running through my body from just a simple touch.

“I told my manager before we parted ways that I don’t want to ride competitively anymore,” he explained, his voice gruff.

My stomach fluttered. “Why not?”

“I need a job with more of a set schedule, so you’ll know when I’ll be home so you can plan your life with me in it.”

I nearly swallowed my tongue. “You tell me you love me on the phone, and now you just expect to move in?”

His gaze was on our fingers lacing together. “Yeah.” He wasn’t really listening to me. The hooded eyes, the trace of a smile; it was our skin together that had him so entranced.

I didn’t even want to move; I was so afraid I would startle the exotic creature and he would run away. I exhaled as the world slowed and everything fell away except the two of us.

“You look tired.”

He didn’t say I was wrong.

“You’re not sleeping.”

“I haven’t slept since you left,” he replied, sliding his hand up to my wrist.

I mirrored the action, having to slide closer to him, pressing my hip into his side and twisting my upper body so I could look down at him. He had beautiful forearms, strong, with roped veins I found very sexy.

“So… tell me about the guy,” he ventured.

“That was subtle.” I chuckled.

“Brian.”