Free Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4) by Michelle Irwin

in their own cars.” He paused and regarded me.
    I nodded to show I was listening—intently this time, not like when he told me about the Mini in the first place.
    “It means, of course, that we can’t pair up two lead drivers like we have in previous years.”
    “Why?” I asked, surprising myself at my outburst.
    “Something about helping to even up the odds and trying to increase the number of cars in the field. A whole pile of reasons really, but regardless of why, it’s happening and will be formally announced just before the Bahrain race.”
    “Okay.” My fingers bounced against my leg as I considered the possible reasons he could be telling me this.
    “Now I’m left with something of a quandary. I need to find another driver for each of the cars I’m running in the races.”
    I tried to beat back the bubble of hope building rapidly in my chest. I really didn’t want another disappointment like the one with the Mini. And yet, it expanded until I could barely breathe and swallowing became impossible.
    “I was wondering whether you—”
    I was nodding my agreement before he’d finished the sentence. Yes, dammit, yes!
    “—know anyone who knows how to handle a ProV8 car?”
    “What?” I asked, slumping back down in my chair as the bubble burst, leaving a cold emptiness in its wake. I couldn’t believe he would ask me that. Did he want me to go on a fucking recruitment drive on his fucking behalf or something?
    He chuckled. “So you don’t know anyone who would want to drive a V8 again, and who knows how to get around a track?”
    “You mean other than me, right?” I snapped, pinching the bridge of my nose to try to calm myself.
    “I never said that.”
    I sat bolt upright in my seat, my eyes wide, barely daring to hope that I was hearing him right. “Are you asking me?” I asked. “To drive?”
    “I’m asking whether you would be interested in the potential for the opportunity to drive.”
    “You’re shitting me?!” I couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin that spread across my lips.
    “I most certainly am not shitting you,” Danny said with a chuckle. “I’m saying that there just might be an opportunity for you to hop back in a car for a few races at the end of the year—”
    I cut him off. “What’s the catch?”
    He shrugged. “The usual. Keep your nose clean. Keep yourself together. Do what we need you to do. Any questions?”
    “Just one,” I said.
    He raised his eyebrow at me.
    “Can I drive with Morgan?”
    His returning smile was enigmatic. “I wouldn’t dream of putting you in a car with Hunter.”
    I breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, thank fuck for that.”
    I practically skipped out of Danny’s office once we were finished. I spent the day working hard, knowing I needed to finish early to make my couples’ appointment with Alyssa and Dr. Henrikson.
     
    “SKIPPING OFF early again, huh, Reede?”
    I rolled my eyes when I heard Hunter’s voice behind me as I was packing away the last of my tools. I didn’t respond to him though.
    “I heard a rumour that you leave early often so you can go home and have a bit of afternoon delight with that chick of yours.”
    With a deep breath, I clenched my fist but said nothing as I continued to pack up. He leaned against the wall that my toolbox rested against, and I could see him in my periphery.
    “Of course, I don’t blame you. God, if I had a chance I’d be all up in that again and again. I’d have her screaming my name so loudly. In fact, I would make sure I ruined her for all other men.”
    I dropped a spanner roughly into the box. I couldn’t react. I knew I couldn’t react. I needed to be Zen. I took a deep breath and returned to my stance of trying my damnedest to ignore him.
    “I can just imagine what her tight pussy would feel like,” he said, groaning softly. “Wait, it is tight, isn’t it?”
    A low growl escaped my chest—so much for my “ignore him” policy.
    “It’s not all stretched from