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TWELVE
TALLY
“Tally! We have to go!” Hayes yelled from the doorway to the house. I’d only just washed the paint from my hair and my hands, but at least the primer coat of the plasterboard was done. I was enjoying renovating the house; there was something satisfying about it. It also gave me something to focus on in the long, lonely evenings, like Googling how to use a nail gun without piercing vital body parts, or studying how to recess lights. Between that and reading about all the shit I was probably going to fuck up once the baby was born, I was distracted from the past that haunted me.
Right now, though, I was trying on ten different dresses to decide which one made me look less pregnant. If everything went right, I could converge my old life with my new one, and create something better for me and the baby.
Huffing a frustrated sigh, I threw on a floral dress and pinned my hair up. Realistically, they’d either want me for my driving skills, or not at all. Slipping my feet into sandals, I grabbed a denim jacket and rushed out of the house.
Locking up, I met Hayes on the front porch. He was grinning, as if he hadn’t just hollered at me like a fisherman’s wife. “You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes sliding over me quickly before meeting mine again. “Are you ready? Because if you aren’t, I’m stuffing you into the car anyway. We’re running behind schedule.”
Pit crew mechanics, man. They were all about being on time. I held up my hands. “No need for stuffing anyone anywhere. I’m ready. Lead the way.”
Hayes turned, and I took a moment to really take him in. He was so fucking handsome and kept himself in great shape. His ass was the kind you wanted to sink your nails into, while you held on for dear life as he dicked you right into the mattress. He was wearing classic blue jeans that looked well loved but still neat, and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up as a concession to the summer heat. He looked like the kind of boy you took home to your mama, and she’d tell you what a sweet man he was.
And after you finished your Georgia peach pie, he’d take you home and eat your pie.
Something low in my body clenched, and I groaned. He looked over his shoulder, but I quickly schooled my features. I had to get my head in the game, right now, or I was going to fuck up this chance.
As if to bamboozle my libido in a tandem attack, Jesse appeared. He was dressed in all black. Black t-shirt. Black jeans. Black boots. The only colorful things about him were the tattoos running across his exposed skin. He was holding a bottle of wine, and Norton was looking at him pitifully from the front window.
While Hayes’s eyes had taken me in quickly, Jesse’s gaze was like a caress as it slid down my body, taking in my curves, the spot where my hem brushed the middle of my thighs, even my feet, before traveling back to my face. “You look nice.”
I snorted at the faint praise. “Thanks, Jesse. You both look good too. Now let’s go, so I don’t make a terrible first impression.”
“Your first impression was at an illegal street race. I’m not sure you can change that now,” Hayes teased. “But we can get you there for a good second impression.”
We slid into his car, though I had to insist I sat in the back seat. I couldn’t even imagine Jesse trying to fold his legs into the space in the back. These muscle cars weren’t really made to be people movers.
Antony Barbieri and his family lived in an area that was so rich, we went through two security checks, got ticked off a list, and had to hand over our ID before we were let in. It would probably have been easier to get into Fort Knox.
The houses were few and far between, all surrounded by high fences and sprawling lawns. Honestly, there was rich, and there was whatever the hell the VANT owners were. Obscenely wealthy. I assumed that was why Antony Barbieri could just wake up one morning and decide he wanted to start a very costly racing team from scratch.
We pulled up to a small camera, which I think scanned Hayes’s face, before letting us in. “Welcome, Hayes Davis,” it said in a robotic voice, and I gaped as Hayes rolled down the driveway.
“Sometimes, I forget they made their money in tech,” Jesse grumbled. “That’s some science-fiction bullshit.” I couldn’t agree more.
As we pulled up to a spot, a valet came over and collected the keys from Hayes, who eyed him warily. The guest parking was a mish-mash between pick-ups and SUVs, though there was one shiny red Ferrari parked amongst them, like a diamond in a pig pen.
We walked up the beautiful steps to a house that was far more earthy than I’d expected, especially compared to the other houses in the area. Wood, glass and concrete sat together in architectural chaos, but somehow managed to work.
Vanessa Sumich, Antony’s partner, answered the door barefoot, in a beautiful dress that flowed behind her. Her hair was beginning to gray, and somehow, it only added to her beauty. She was gorgeous.
“Hayes! It’s good to see you again.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, like they were old friends and not employer-employee. Then she stepped back, reaching out a hand toward me. “And you must be Tally. I’ve heard a lot about you over the past few weeks, and I saw you race. Very impressive.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant she’d seen race footage of me, or she was referring to the recent, slightly illegal street racing, but I didn’t press. “Lovely to meet you, Ms. Sumich.”
Waving a hand, she turned to Jesse last. “Mr. Banks, thank you for coming also.”
Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for inviting me, Ms. Sumich, though I’m not sure why you did. Hayes and I aren’t a couple.”
I looked over at Jesse like he’d lost his goddamn mind, and Hayes’s eyes were almost as wide as his mouth.
The elegant woman in front of us threw back her head and snort-laughed. “Oh my goodness. Well, you know what they say—never say never.” She gave us an outrageous wink. “You’re still very welcome. Please, come in, all of you.” She was still chuckling, and I gave Jesse a what the fuck look.
He shrugged unapologetically, and Hayes elbowed him in the ribs, but we pulled it together as we were led through the house.
And holy shit, what a house. It had vaulted ceilings and huge windows, with so much light, it was like being bathed in sunshine. There was gentle art on the walls, in a color palette that was earthy and neutral. The place was like a warm hug; you could do cartwheels across the kitchen floor, but also snuggle down in front of the fireplace—which was kind of unnecessary in California, aside for aesthetics.
