Glancing down at her feet, she checked her pedicure peeking out from behind her gold sandals. It was still intact. She wished she could say the same for the rest of her.
The timing of this—whatever it was—with Diesel was terrible. She knew she didn’t entirely have it together. She knew she was vulnerable. She had always been good at being rational in relationships and she wasn’t sure she was completely capable of that right now.
It would be easy to get hurt.
Yet she didn’t seem to be standing up and leaving.
She was either a masochist or maybe, just maybe, on the verge of something wonderful.
Wilma came running up to her, dropping the soggy ball in her lap.
“Hey, mutt, bring it to me. Tuesday doesn’t want your nasty ball.”
“I don’t mind.” After giving the dog a scratch on the head, she threw the ball. It didn’t have the velocity of Diesel’s throws, but it made it to the grass at least. Wilma bounded off after it.
“This is my life,” Diesel told her. “Entertaining a dog.”
But he didn’t look like he minded. “In return she gives you unconditional love. You can’t beat that.”
“True.” Diesel had sat down next to her and he rubbed Wilma when she inserted her head between his legs. “So Ty McCordle tells me you’re planning a cancer benefit in your father’s name.”
“Yes. It’s in two weeks.” She had thought it would ease her pain a little, but the truth was, she was having the opposite reaction. It made her feel even more raw, and she waffled between bouts of aggressive planning and the desire to run and hide from everything. It was on target mainly because Kendall had lent her her PR person for the event. Otherwise Tuesday wasn’t sure she would have been able to pull it together. “The drivers have all been great. They’ve donated personal meet-and-greets, memorabilia, driver’s experiences. Everyone has been really generous.”
It had meant a lot to her as she had been soliciting donations to hear so many of the drivers speak highly of her father. They had all stepped up to the plate to help out and then some. “I think we can really bring in some money. Kendall’s assistant has done the advertising and we have several hundred people attending.”
She was proud of what she had managed to pull together. “I’m hoping for several hundred thousand dollars at the end of the night. That would be a great boon to cancer research.”
It wouldn’t do anything for her father, but if anything she did could prevent someone else from losing a loved one, she wanted to make that happen.
“I could donate something.”
Tuesday glanced at him. He looked sincere. She had thought about asking Diesel, but then hadn’t wanted it to seem like she was twisting his arm. She hadn’t wanted him to feel obligated since they were sleeping with each other.
“That’s awesome. I would appreciate it.”
“How about a car?”
She had been reaching for the coffee cup she’d set down on the table next to her and she froze mid-reach at his words. “Excuse me?” A car? Did he mean like a dye-cast car? Because surely he couldn’t mean a whole freaking car.
“The one I’ve been working on. It’s a vintage stock car, raced in the ’63 season, won the championship. It’s worth about a hundred grand I’d guess, after my restoration. Should help meet your goal.”
Her heart started to race a lot faster than was strictly normal. “Are you kidding me? You would do that?”
He shrugged. “Of course I would. My mom died of cancer, too. If I can help, I’m happy to.”
“But how much did that car cost you? And you’ve been working on it for months.” It both baffled and touched her that he would be willing to do something so huge.
“So? I’m fortunate enough to not have to pinch every penny. I want to do this.”
Would he think she was stupid if she reached over and squeezed his hand? She decided she didn’t care. She did just that, running her thumb over the calluses of his workroughened hands. “Thank you. That’s amazing, Daniel.”
It felt right to use his given name right then and the sharp intake of breath he took told her he felt the same way. She was looking into his pale eyes, thinking that this was a very worthy man. One that she could easily fall in love with. One she wasn’t sure she actually deserved.
“It’s my pleasure.”
An idea popped into her head as she leaned into him, holding his hand, and gazing into his eyes. “You should offer to take the highest bidder on a drive.”
She thought it was a fabulous idea, him taking someone for a spin around the track in the vintage car. Collectors and enthusiasts would love that kind of opportunity.
What she didn’t expect was for him to pull his hand out of hers and look down at his dog. “No, sorry, that I’m not doing.”
Bewildered, she was upset her words had broken the mood, but unsure why they had exactly. “Why not?” She knew he could drive a car. He’d been hauling her ass all over town for the past ten days. He wasn’t that injured.
“Because I don’t want to.”
There was an answer designed to irritate her. “Well, that clears that right up.”
The look he gave her was not a smile, that was for sure. “Just leave it alone.”
“So you’re not going to give me a reason?”
“Nope.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“You don’t look that infuriated. I’ve seen you a lot more worked up.”
Bastard had a point. She was irritated though, because he clearly was refusing to drive the car because of his accident. She just wasn’t sure why exactly, and she wished he would trust her enough to confide in her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t verbally vomited her emotions on him multiple times. He couldn’t possibly think she would judge him.
But she wasn’t going to push him. If he didn’t want to talk to her, she couldn’t make him. Not right now anyway. She was a reporter, after all. She knew how to pry information out of someone when they weren’t expecting it. Right how his guard was up and probing would only result in him digging his heels in and her getting as worked up as he’d suggested she’d been in the past.
Time to retreat for the time being.
“That’s true.” Tuesday leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her face. “And I’m too tired today to get worked up, so you’re off the hook.”