One in a Million by Abby Gaines Read Free Book Online

then. I suggest you hold on to this one, Eli. She’s a keeper.”
    His tone was light, but the message wasn’t. Gil liked Jennifer. Despite today’s result, making the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup was still a long shot. Would having Jen as his girlfriend help Eli keep his ride, even if he didn’t make the Chase?
    She quit, remember?
    Jen fiddled with the lanyard that held her track pass. “Eli, I need to leave.”
    One more minute and she would walk away.
    He had to make her stay.
    A reporter approached, wanting to talk about the race.
    â€œDon’t go,” Eli told Jen. “We need to talk.”
    He was certain he could convince her. She’d enjoyed his company as much as he’d enjoyed hers—yeah, okay, he might as well admit it.
    As he answered the journalist’s questions, he was aware of her shaking hands with Quinn, accepting Gil’s kiss on the cheek. He willed her to wait.
    At last the interview ended.
    Eli turned back to Jen.
    She was gone.

CHAPTER SIX
    F REE RANGE CHICKENS might be happier and ultimately tastier than their cage-reared cousins, but raising them involved stepping in a lot of poop.
    Jen sighed as she scraped the sole of one rubber boot against the bottom rung of the gate, dislodging the muck. This morning, everything was getting on her nerves.
    After yesterday’s race, life felt flat.
    The farm, usually a haven of tranquility, seemed silent as a convent. And about as exciting.
    Was it possible to miss the roar of forty-three engines? The smell of oil and rubber and gasoline? Or was it just a certain green-eyed driver with a lazy drawl whose absence she felt so keenly?
    Jen realized she was touching her lips, and whipped her hand away.
    I’m tired, is all. It wasn’t yet seven-thirty and she’d stumbled out into the crisp morning air without benefit of coffee.
    â€œShoo, go on.” She flapped her arms at a couple of hens taking their time about heading into the grassy area where they would spend most of the day. One of the birds flapped back, then skittered sideways in the right direction.
    When they were all pecking excitedly at the grass as if they hadn’t just pecked at the very same blades yesterday, she closed the gate.
    And felt an alarming sense of kinship with those chickens.
    Sure, they were certified free range. They could run around outside to their hearts’ content. So long as they didn’t want to go beyond the fence.
    Tonight, they would be ushered back into the coop, and shut up until morning. And when they reached a respectable weight…
    Jen didn’t like to think about their fate.
    Besides, any comparison with her own life stopped far short of the dinner table. So what if she occasionally felt trapped within the confines of her existence?
    â€œI didn’t feel like that before yesterday,” she said out loud. The chickens ignored her. “And I don’t feel like that now,” she added, sounding defiant to her own ears.
    No response from the birds. They obviously didn’t know a lie when they heard it.
    Truth was, Jen had been feeling out of sorts for a while. As if something was missing from her life. I need to get back into my college studies.
    â€œI have plans,” she told the chickens grandly. “I won’t always be mucking out your coop.”
    One of the hens made a sound suspiciously like a cackle.
    â€œYou won’t be laughing in a few weeks’ time,” she warned. She clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, that was just plain mean.”
    â€œNice to see you’re as blunt with those birds as you are with me,” said a voice behind her.
    Eli!
    Jen spun around. And absorbed the full impact of the NASCAR-driver-at-play package. A plaid shirt open over a faded navy blue T-shirt, worn jeans that hugged his hips.Work boots that had somehow avoided any trace of poultry droppings.
    She put a hand to her thudding heart. “What are you