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He’d surveyed the land and even returned for the next three days to formulate a plan. Knowing the five acres wouldn’t be enough, he’d approached the homeowners next door and given them an offer they couldn’t refuse.
Neil loved that he had all the money in the world and the power to do what he wanted. To dream as big as he could and know that anything was possible. He’d spent too many years with nothing, too many years believing that he was nothing.
But even the excitement that came with the finalization of the farm didn’t suppress the need for speed that buzzed through his body. Nothing was enough anymore.
His life had been a dream. He had become a successful business tycoon and chef, with a family—albeit different from the norm—that loved him. He had been on top of the world.
Until the bottom fell out the day his foster mother Vivian succumbed to breast cancer. It had been fifteen months since she’d passed and Neil just didn’t know how to rein himself back in. That’s when he’d taken to the streets, racing his way into emotional oblivion.
He knew he was out of control in every possible way. Professionally, he had reached far above his own limits to pull off a restaurant experience most people wouldn’t even consider. Physically, he risked death almost every night by racing his bike.
And Carson…
He never expected to see her at the race—the woman who had preoccupied his fantasies since the day he saw her for the very first time.
She had been confident and cool under pressure. Always taking control. A real alpha chick. Which wasn’t at all what he usually went for in women. But something about Carson Kelly III had him turned up in knots. Something more than just her perfect ass.
Damn, she was hot. His attraction overwhelmed him to the point he was fighting it constantly—his need to touch her, brush up against her, grab her and thrust her up against a wall.
It was even more explosive now that he’d actually kissed her.
Thinking about Carson had kicked up his libido. A dangerous combination with the urge to ride fast and hard. Since he couldn’t ride Carson, he’d settle for a high speed of a race.
He picked up his keys, grabbed his jacket and headed down to the base of the hill where his truck was parked. The restaurant sat on the front of the property and when he approached the entrance, he noticed a bike parked beside his truck.
What the hell was Carson doing here at this hour?
He checked his watch. It was ten to midnight.
He pushed the two heavy wood doors and stepped into the foyer.
Soft music wafted from inside the restaurant. Carson sat at the far end of the workspace hunched over a table—the same table she had claimed as her work space the day the interior construction had been completed and her drafting table was no longer necessary.
She looked beautiful. The soft light of the table lamp accentuated the smooth lines of her face. Her perfect cheekbones and plump lips. Her dark hair shone in the light, at least the strands that were visible under her hard hat. Even after hours she followed the rules.
He stepped further into the space, his boot catching on the hard wood and jerking him forward.
Carson jumped and looked up from the table, her hands gripping the sides tightly.
“Shit!” She shook her head and released her grip. “You scared the crap out of me.”
He lifted his hands, palms forward. “Sorry. I saw the light on. Was just checking it out. What are you still doing here?”
“I was going over the inspection documents one more time.” Her files were piled up in the corner of the table. “But then I got an idea.” She glanced at her watch and furrowed her brow. “I must have lost track of time.” Her eyes lowered to where he held his keys in his hand. “Going somewhere?” Her eyebrow lifted in curiosity. Busted.
He slipped his keys into the pocket of his jacket but fisted his riding gloves in his hand.
“You’re going to race, aren’t you?” She dropped her crayon on the desk. Wasn’t she a little old for crayons?
But he saw the honest concern in her eyes and it made it hard for him to lie. So he didn’t respond.
“You’re even more stupid than I thought.” She snorted and focused back on her work.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that despite the fact that you’re a smart man and know how dangerous—and fatal—your actions can be…you’re an idiot. Why would you risk it? You have too much to lose.”
“You’re not my mo—” Mother. He no longer had a mother.
