Driving force a stock ca.., p.1
Driving Force: A Stock Car Racing Romance, page 1
Driving Force
HALEY COOK
SOUTHERN LIBRARIAN PUBLISHING
Copyright © 2023 by Haley Cook
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Formatting by HC PA & Formatting Services
Cover Design by Sammie Bee Designs
Cadwallader Photography
Model: Aaron Wolber
Editing by Kate Segers
ASIN: B0C5W8L4SN
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Tinley
2. Ryan
3. Tinley
4. Ryan
5. Tinley
6. Ryan
7. Tinley
8. Ryan
9. Tinley
10. Ryan
11. Tinley
12. Ryan
13. Tinley
14. Ryan
15. Tinley
16. Ryan
17. Tinley
18. Ryan
19. Tinley
20. Ryan
21. Ryan
22. Tinley
23. Ryan
24. Tinley
25. Ryan
26. Tinley
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Coming Soon
To the ones who want to dream but are scared, take the leap it will be worth it in the end.
To Jen & Annie, thanks for holding my hand and telling me I could do it, having you in my corner has meant more than you will ever really know.
“Y’all–I DO NOT WANT TO GO!”
Ignoring my protest, I’m thrust into the shower. “You’re going–kicking and screaming if that’s what we have to do,” Mia declares. Having been my best friend since freshman year at App State, she knows when it’s time to get me out of the house. “You need a day out away from books and working at that library surrounded by more books. It’s your last year. Enjoy college for a change.”
What’s wrong with liking books? I think to myself.
“Tin, I know what’s rolling around in that little head of yours, and yes, books are fine, but you need other things in your life. Like boys and boys and more boys,” she points out.
“Mia, you know I’m the girl who is invisible to boys or the one they friend zone, right? I may be the quiet girl, but I’m not as shy as some may think. I just don’t let people get too close because I don’t want my heart broken.”
“That’s where you're wrong, Tin. You just don’t let them see you and the awesome person you are because you have read so many romance novels that no man can ever live up to that idea of the perfect partner.”
It’s easy for her to say. Her dark brown hair, big blue eyes, and curvy figure make the boys stop and take notice anywhere we go.
“Ugh. Okay, fine, I’ll go.” I give in, but my less-than-pleased tone makes my reluctance very clear.
Living with my best friends for the past three years, I understand that we usually have the most fun when they get me out of my comfort zone. Mia, Grace, Lily, and I might be very close, but you build a complex quickly when you’re the single girl and everyone else is coupled up. I can’t help if I get lost in my studies more than hanging out with the six of them. My Saturday nights usually consist of the girls getting ready for dates and me reading the latest book on my Kindle instead of being the seventh wheel.
And yes, I know what you’re thinking - Don’t they have hot friends to set you up with to go along with them? The answer is yes, they do, considering they are all dating guys on the baseball team. But their guy friends always seem to see me as the chubby girl who makes them laugh, not girlfriend material. Don't get me wrong, they have all been super sweet, but it’s always the same thing. “I like you, but I just think we are off as better friends.” So, it never goes further than the first date.
If they are dragging me to God knows what today, I better put some effort into it, or I’ll, as my mother says, die alone with a cat—by the way, I don’t even like cats—then it’ll eat my face off. Since I’m alone, no one will find me until it’s too late. Insert face palm emoji here, please.
After finally pulling myself out of the shower and drying off, I’m met with three pairs of eyes staring at me like I’d just said I was Team Jacob instead of Team Edward.
“Umm, ladies, what’s up?” I no sooner get the last word out before different clothing options are thrust at me like I’ve never dressed myself before.
“Okay, let’s slow down. Of course, I have some questions. First,” I lift my hand, “where are we going? And second, why are all three of you so excited about this?”
Lily is the first to chime in. She’s usually the quieter of the four of us, the normal southern girl. Auburn red hair, dark green eyes, and the sweetest personality you will ever meet. Even if she told me she planned to kill me in my sleep, she’s so sweet I wouldn’t believe it until it happened. This explains how she landed James, the star baseball player, two years ago. We are all sure she’ll follow him to whichever farm team he lands at after the draft in a few months.
“Ok, so don’t kill us, but we’re going to a NASCAR race,” Lily tells me, a little too excited for my taste.
Pausing to let it sink in a little, I finally reply, “Umm, y’all know I like quiet places, right? I mean, I work in a library and want to go into publishing when I finish school. In what universe did you think this would scream, ‘Hey, Tin will love this and will put up no struggle whatsoever about going?’” I ask, looking at them quizzically.
“Yeah, yeah, we know you like boring,” Grace chimes in.
Yes, Grace is that friend, that bitchy girl that will always say what she thinks even if no one wants to hear it. She has blonde hair, green eyes, and wears her signature red lipstick, ready to cut any man who might impede her because she gets what she wants.
“But guess what, Tin? You’re going! I pulled some strings, and a family friend who does PR for a team is letting me get some experience for my PR/Social Media class. He got us all passes to the Food City 500 Race in Bristol, Tennessee since it's only an hour from here.”
Knowing I don’t really have a choice, I shrug. “I better get dressed, then. Yee haw, make me a NASCAR pit lizard, I guess. Show me what I’ve been missing all these years.”
None of my friends find my sarcasm or exaggerated Southern accent funny. Instead, they pounce on me like lions in the jungle that just found their last meal. When they finally give me an inch of breathing room, I turn to look at myself. The dark colors of the royal blue fitted tee and dark-washed jeans enhance my curvy figure, but my favorite part is the signature sparkly chucks that I always wear.
“Let the games begin, bitches!”
Grace does her Breakfast Club fist bump in the air. Lily stands back, jumping and clapping, and Mia just shouts, “Hell yeah, you are smoking hot!”
I don’t know about smoking hot, but I feel better than average with my hair done in loose curls and a little makeup applied. The humidity living in North Carolina can be rough, so it’s best to just go natural.
Going to a race might be the craziest idea known to man because I know I’ll be out of my element. But my girls have all the confidence in the world, making me smile and hold my head higher. Just as we walk into the living room, a knock comes from the front door. Lily heads toward it like she has a beacon on James and knows his every move–but I've always been told that it’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for.
James no more gets his foot in the door than I realize I’m once again the seventh wheel. Lily and James are so cute it would make anyone sick. When James settled down, his buddies wanted that same thing, so that’s how Mia and Grace fell for his best friends. Here I sit, a single girl in a room full of couples. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I notice a guy I haven’t seen before trailing behind Miles. Granted, it’s hard to see around Miles. Standing six foot three and built like a linebacker, he takes up a lot of space. James is the shortest of the bunch by a few inches. It's hard not to look at them and see why my best friends are lucky women. Internally kicking myself for being so picky. Great, not only am I going to a sporting event I know nothing about, but now I’m being set up on a blind date. Yep, where is the wormhole I can jump in?
“Okay, are we ready to go? I need to see what the huge deal is with NASCAR.”
Miles, Grace’s boyfriend, is the first to chime in. “You’re going to love it, Tin. Fast cars and beer. What’s not to love?”
“Miles, you know me so well.” Just kill me now, is what I really mean, but I give him a playful smile.
The next thing I know, James is pushing a handsome man with blonde hair and light green eyes in front of me. If I were a betting woman, I’d say this is one of his athlete friends based on his build alone.
“Tinley, this is Chase, and no, he does not play any sports before you even ask. Well, not at school, anyway. I know you’re tired of athletes. Even though I should be hurt by that, I’m not. He’s in my sports medicine class.”
“Hi, Tinley.” Chase reaches out to shake my hand. “It’s nice to meet you. James has told me a lot about you. Thanks for letting me tag along to the race today.”
Lordy, this man is nice to look at. His sea-green eyes c
“Well, if I had known that James had such a beautiful friend, I would have made sure he had given me your contact sooner.” I can’t help but blush at the statement. Chase may just be what I was looking for, or maybe he could help me figure out this racing shit my friends thought I needed to understand.
As we follow the others out and load up into Miles’s suburban, I tell myself to just enjoy today. Even if it kills me. And between NASCAR and a blind date, it just might.
Being at the racetrack is one of the best parts of my week; the smell of gas and tires, the crews preparing to go to work on pitstops, and the rush of adrenaline that hits when I get in the car, but this morning I’m met with Brad in my race hauler at the ass crack of dawn. “Why do I have to play nice with a college student studying Public Relations? Aren’t they supposed to have an internship program for that?” I question my PR guy Brad while buttoning my jeans and throwing on an old racing shirt and dark gray vans.
Brad met me at my racing hauler to give me the rundown of what needed to be done for the day from a drivers’ meet and greet, which I enjoy since it’s a time to talk with the fans. The drivers’ pre-race meeting afterwards is the one time of the day away from the public eye. After that, the always-important interview with NASCAR Race Day, and then hopefully ending with the victory lane hat dance, yet with how the car ran yesterday, I’m going to have to bust my ass to make that one happen.
Brad blows out a frustrated breath. “Yes, they have internship programs, but this is a family friend, and I told her it would be a great chance to see if this is the sport she wants to cover once she graduates school in May.”
Okay. I take a deep breath. I’ll be good as gold today and try not to make life difficult. Normally, I’m a nice guy at the track once you get past the sometimes-grumpy part, which I blame on no coffee or lack of sleep most days. But when the moment comes, and my helmet is on, I turn into the NASCAR superstar Ryan McKenzie and will do anything to win. That would explain why I’ve made a few enemies on the circuit and have Brad attached to my hip anytime I’m at the track, but it comes with the territory when you win races.
“So, when will she be here?” Ready to get this show underway as we walk toward my meet and greet. I have always loved coming to the track early. The smell of the cars when they first crank and the burnt rubber of tires lingering in the air from the night before has always made me smile. “Could be anytime, really.”
He no more gets the sentence out, when a group of college-age adults walks up to us. NASCAR was always my end goal, so I skipped college and went straight to the Xfinity series from high school. I was lucky to have signed with Mac Motorsports early in my career, getting on NASCAR’s radar when I started racing midgets. They were good to me, and I was a loyal driver. So, when I could, I moved up the ranks and entered the big show a few years later. I have never taken that for granted because I know it does not happen to everyone so quickly.
Walking toward the first meet and greet, Brad is rattling off the stats for this track and who's lining up where when a tall blonde comes up to me, drawing my attention. But as soon as she opens her mouth, I sense she only sees me as a driver to put on her Instagram page and claim she’s slept with.
“Ryan, I'm such a big fan,” she purrs.
“Thanks so much for the support, but I’m late for an event.” I pull her hand away from my bicep. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s nice to have female attention, but my coffee hasn’t even kicked this early in the morning, so it’s a bit over the top for me.
“Ah, come on, driver.” She winks. “I can make your morning even better,” she whispers in my ear as I pull away to continue my walk.
Glancing at the group headed toward us, I can’t help but think back about my friends in high school and how close we had been once, but we soon drifted apart when I found racing. That was my true passion, and going headfirst into it, I lost them along the way, but I never looked back.
Brad greets everyone, getting names and ensuring they can access the garage area to watch the race from the stands or behind the pit wall. Fans stopped me, so I missed everyone’s names. When you have a ridiculously cute nine-year-old with your t-shirt on and her dad asking you to sign something, you do not turn them down. Making my way over to Brad, I notice a beautiful blonde standing beside him, and I can’t help but take a moment and admire her.
“Ryan McKenzie, this is Grace. Grace, this is Ryan.”
“Umm, bud, my eyes are up here,” Grace says with a smug smile.
I can’t help but laugh a little, getting caught looking at all of Grace’s curves. Then I catch a glimpse of another woman out of the corner of my eye, with the most beautiful, dark, midnight black curls I have ever seen and crystal blue eyes hiding behind the cutest pair of black frame glasses. I shake my head and smile to myself. Normally, glasses don’t catch my attention, but something about these makes me look a little longer than necessary.
Clearing my throat, I tell Grace, “Sorry about that,” just as the dark-haired beauty turns away from me.
“So Brad tells me you have a full morning with promotion, including a meet and greet before the race. Are you sure it’s okay if I follow you guys around?” Grace asks.
“Yeah, it’s just a normal race day for me. Brad said you wanted to work in NASCAR, so why not see what it’s all about?”
As I go over all that’s expected of me on race day, those crystal blue eyes grab my attention again, and it makes my heart rate pick up just a little as she walks up to Grace. Before I can even think, I reach out, wanting to touch her hand.
“Um, hi. I’m Ryan, and you are?” I know I must have startled her, but I can’t let her walk away without getting her name at least. She stands there for a second, looking like she’s trying to solve a math problem, which makes me laugh a little to myself. Then I wondered how it was possible men didn’t approach her and say hello on a regular basis. She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, and the way she carries herself, she doesn’t even seem to realize that.
As a driver, girls always come and go, yet no one holds my attention for longer than a few weeks, if that. But something about this girl and how she looks at me makes my world spin in another direction. She doesn’t seem to care who I am, which has pulled me into her gravity. You always hear people talk about that moment when you meet the person you will spend the rest of your life with. Where in the hell did that thought come from? That never happens in real life. That’s just something people watch in those sappy romance movies. Shaking my head, I focus on the beautiful woman before me.
“Hi, I’m Tinley. It’s nice to meet you.” She places her hand in mine.
I feel a tingle go up my spine from the contact. What the hell was that? Just as I’m about to ask her a question, Brad interrupts, heading toward the meet and greet. Still unable to take my eyes off her, I know I must look like a straight-up crazy person just standing here watching her. Tinley tells Grace she’ll see her this afternoon, and a tall blonde guy comes over to speak with her. I think I might have caught his name as maybe Chase or Chance or something, and a strange jealous feeling comes over me. I just met this woman and spent all of two seconds with her it's not like I have some weird claim on her. He finally asks if she would like to walk around the pit area with him. Being polite, she nods and says she would love to.
Seeing him place his hand on her lower back, ready to walk away with Malibu Ken, my mouth word vomits all over the place. “Tinley, would you like to come with us to keep Grace company? Sometimes race day can be boring while I meet fans and go to the drivers' meeting.”
