He was feeling perfectly content until Ellie shifted into the chair next to him. “Really?” she said to him, disdain in her voice. “This is who you chose over me?”
Awkward. He had to say he wasn’t big on this kind of confrontation. What exactly did Ellie expect him to say?
“It’s not a competition.”
“Of course it is.”
Ellie was a buxom brunette who worked hard to maintain her body and her tan. She was an attractive woman, but too damn aggressive for Diesel’s tastes. He glanced around, hoping someone would interrupt them and save him from the conversation.
No such luck. His aunt and uncle were standing behind Tuesday, their heads together, while Tuesday was jumping up and down, a bunch of chips in her hand.
“Life is a competition, Diesel. You should know that, given your prior career.”
He wasn’t sure what her point was, exactly. “You and I don’t have a lot in common, Ellie.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You know, you would think that you would appreciate the fact that I don’t care that you have no job. Most women aren’t going to want a washed-up driver.”
It was a total kick in the nuts he wasn’t prepared for. Diesel sat there, stunned, for a second. Hell, he knew there were plenty of women who went after men strictly because they were drivers. But he’d never really translated that to mean women wouldn’t be interested in him at all. That he was perceived as unemployed.
There were plenty of days he felt that way himself, but it wasn’t at all pleasant to hear someone else say it out loud.
It took him a second, but he forced himself to produce a casual and careless tone of voice. “That’s very generous of you. But I’m still not interested.”
Ellie shoved her chair back, her br**sts bouncing in her low-cut tank top. She glanced over at Tuesday. “You’re too boring for her you know. You’ll never be able to keep her.”
Throw a little goddamn salt right into the wound.
Diesel hadn’t even really understood his reservations about Tuesday and now Ellie had managed to point them straight out to him. That was helpful. Not.
He was boring. He was a washed-up driver. He wouldn’t be able to keep a woman as vibrant as Tuesday interested in him.
Staring after Ellie, who had taken her purse and walked away from the table, Diesel was too busy brooding to notice the outcome of the race until Tuesday waved her hand in front of his face.
“What are you staring at? Did you see that? Jolly Ranger brought it home, baby!”
Diesel forced himself to shove aside the doubts Ellie had just planted and fake a smile for Tuesday. “Congrats, that’s awesome. Guess you can pick ’em.”
Without warning, she dropped into his lap. “You know it. I rule at horse picking. I mean, picking the winning horses.”
Her tight backside wiggled a little on his thighs as she settled into a comfortable position. Diesel had no idea what to make of her treating him like her personal folding chair. “These are pre-taped. Maybe you’ve already seen this race.”
He didn’t think for one minute that was the case, but he figured he would enjoy her reaction. Indignation from her would also be easier to deal with than her snuggling into him in public. He had to admit, he wasn’t one for displays of affection around the masses. Especially given that he never brought women to events like this, and everyone was staring at him curiously. And how would he explain when a week or two from now Tuesday was no longer interested in him?
“How dare you,” she told him, her nose lifting. “That’s an outrageous accusation. And even if I did happen to see it, it doesn’t diminish my confidence in Jolly Ranger’s talents, nor my enthusiasm for the race. Besides, this is for charity.”
Diesel grinned. “So you did see it?”
“Totally,” she admitted. She put her finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Did she have any idea how much she turned him on? How inherently sexual she was? The way she moved when she walked, the way she shook her hair back, the tilt of her head, and the saucy lift of the corner of her mouth all drove him insane. She was on his lap, her finger touching his lip, her other arm on his shoulder for balance, and her ease in the position both intrigued and excited him. He liked that she was honest, that she always said what she was thinking.
“Never,” he reassured her. “Because it’s for charity.”
“Exactly.” She dropped her finger. “Tell me three things about you I don’t already know.”
There she went again, catching him completely off guard. “Seriously?”
“No, I just said it because I don’t want you to do it.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m serious.”
“Well.” He wasn’t sure anyone had ever posed a question to him like that. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for exactly. But if she could be random, he could be random. “I’m allergic to cats. The only state I haven’t been to is North Dakota. And I was born on the fourth of July.”
“Ooh. Fireworks for your birthday. That’s pretty cool.”
“Actually, it’s kind of a rip-off sharing your birthday with any holiday. It could be worse, I could have been born on Christmas, but a kid wants his birthday to be all about him.”
“Yeah, I can see that. So why haven’t you been to North Dakota? Are you avoiding it?”
Diesel chuckled. “No. Just haven’t had the chance yet. Seems like I should before I die. So tell me, where did you get the name Tuesday?”
She wiggled again. “My butt’s going numb.”
Nothing on him was numb. Diesel was forced to put his hand on the small of her back, concerned she might fall off the chair with all that moving around. He didn’t want to touch her any more than was necessary given their location, and the fact that he was well aware that riding crop was propped next to the chair.
“It’s not a good story,” she told him. “My parents couldn’t agree on a name for me. They were fighting about it, both of them being somewhat opinionated. Good thing that passed me over.” She gave him a grin. “Anyway, I was born on a Tuesday. The nurse was insisting they fill out the birth certificate, my mom was getting annoyed that my dad wouldn’t cave, and vice versa. So he just said ‘Christ, we should just name her Tuesday.’ And that was the end of that. Lamest, most unloving naming story ever. But like you said . . . it could be worse. I could have wound up Female.”