Right Before His Eyes by Wendy Etherington Read Free Book Online Page A

start to lift off the ground and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m fine.”
    â€œThen you’re cutting off the circulation in my leg for fun?”
    Glancing down, she saw her white-knuckled hand gripping his thigh. She let go immediately. “Sorry.”
    He snagged her hand and held it between both of his. “Look at me.”
    With her stomach doing somersaults, she did as he asked. The steadiness in those blue eyes calmed the worst of her fears. “I don’t fly very often and never in a plane this small. It’s safe, right? I mean, are you sure it can stay up all the way to Texas?”
    â€œI’m sure.”
    â€œWhat if we go through one of those bumpy clouds?”
    â€œThe plane’s smaller size actually allows for greater maneuverability with that type of thing. And Peter is an extremely experienced pilot.” He smiled gently. “Do you think I’d put you in danger?”
    She shook her head. Gil’s protective instincts were as firmly engrained as her defensive ones.
    The question was, who was going to shield her heart from falling for him?
    Â 
    G IL COULDN’T REMEMBER enjoying a flight more.
    He generally used the air time to have strategy meetings, make calls to the crew chiefs who were already at the track, or go through his schedule, making adjustments where necessary. By the volume and frequency of his staff’s laughter in the plane, he figured they would be plotting to get Sheila to come with them every weekend.
    They touched down, piled in the rental cars, drove to the track, picked up Sheila’s weekend credentials and arrived in the garage area ten minutes before qualifying was due to start.
    Other than calling the diner to check on Mellie, Sheila seemed entirely focused on him and his teams. She asked a million questions, gawked in amazement at everything and nearly got run over twice by crew members pushing race cars toward the qualifying line on pit road, leading him to ask her how many races she’d been to.
    â€œIncluding the three I’ll see this weekend?” she asked, craning her neck around to look at the stands surrounding the massive track. “Four.”
    He ground to a halt. “You’ve been to one race.”
    â€œI have a business to run. I can’t go flitting off to the track whenever I want.” When he continued to stare at her in disbelief, she added, “I’m not green, you know. I watch on TV every week. Can I see the pit wall?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œCan I touch it?” she asked, wide-eyed.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œCool. I always see the team jump over the wall, and I’ve always wanted to see it firsthand.”
    â€œYou’ve never been on pit road?”
    â€œNo. I went to the spring race at the Concord track last year, but by the time I got there, the race had already started. I watched from the Grossos’ suite in Turn Two.”
    The racetrack was as common to him as the grass in his own backyard. Given her place in the racing community, it seemed inconceivable that Sheila hadn’t shared that experience at least once. She was good friends with several drivers’ wives, including Patsy Grosso, whose family was legendary in NASCAR circles.
    â€œAny one of a hundred of your customers could’ve gotten you infield passes anytime you wanted,” he said, still having a hard time grasping the idea that Sheila was a garage-area novice. “Including me.”
    â€œOh, I know. The Tarts are always trying to get me to go with them.” She angled her head. “Did I mention I have a business to run? Hey, there’s Rafael.” She waved at the driver, who was walking with his team, trying to sign an autograph as he moved.
    Though Sheila was always rushing through the diner, she was always controlled and focused. Her whiplash-inducing reactions were a revelation, a childlike side of her he’d never dreamed she possessed.
    Noticing