Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 19
Lara
The smell of coffee drifts from the kitchen as I pad out of the bedroom, still barefoot and wearing one of Reid’s soft black button-downs. It falls nearly to my knees and smells faintly of his cologne—crisp and warm, all cedarwood and clean linen. It’s funny how I never really noticed how good his cologne smelled before, but now that it’s wrapped around me, I don’t understand how I didn’t.
He’s at the stove wearing a pair of loose jeans and a white T-shirt, making eggs like it’s just another normal morning between us. But nothing about this seems normal. Not Monaco. Not the rooftop gala last night. Not the yacht-sized espresso machine humming on the counter like it came straight out of a movie.
Reid glances over his shoulder when he hears me. “Well, damn. If I’d known that shirt would look that good on you, I’d have cooked you breakfast a lot sooner.”
I smirk and head for the fridge, keeping my tone light and teasing. “You mean you don’t make all your women breakfast the morning after their first Monaco gala?”
He sets the spatula down and turns toward me, one eyebrow raised. “Women? Plural?”
“Just covering my bases.”
“Pretty sure you’re the only one who’s ever stolen my clothes and gotten me to slow dance in front of all the other drivers. You’re in a class all your own, Candlish.”
I roll my eyes, grabbing jam and some leftover baguette from last night’s catering box. “Your flattery is outrageous. You’ll say anything for toast.”
Reid leans over and swipes a slice. “Absolutely. Toast is love. Toast is life.”
We sit together on the balcony, the sea breeze fluttering the hem of his shirt on my thighs. Reid’s barefoot, and dressed in those casual, faded jeans, he makes the whole scene less surreal and more grounded.
“So what’s on your Monaco Rock Star Agenda today?” I ask, sipping my espresso. He told me he was going to be gone most of the day for work-related stuff.
He groans and tips his head back. “Sponsor breakfast. A couple of press interviews. Some video thing with Adrenalux. And there’s a lunch I might fake a stomach bug to get out of.”
I smile, but there’s a little pinch in my chest. “Sounds exhausting.”
Reid strokes his jaw as his eyes travel down my legs. “Maybe I should just cancel all of it. We could go back to bed. Blame it on a power outage.”
I laugh softly. “You think a blackout will excuse blowing off sponsors?”
“If I phrase it right, maybe.”
I glance at him over my mug. “You’re impossible.”
“You like it,” he says, smug in that assertion.
He’s not wrong.
He reaches for my hand and I set my coffee down to take it. “Are you excited about going to Zurich?” he asks, his thumb moving in gentle circles.
“I am actually.” We’re flying out tonight as Reid wants a few days to decompress before meetings at Matterhorn FI headquarters in preparation for the Suzuka race.
“I’ll be back around three. Be packed and ready to go and we’ll head to the airport.” His gaze pans out to the sea then back to me. “What are you going to do today?”
“I might go exploring,” I say casually. “Walk the harbor. Pretend I’m one of the locals.”
“You’ll blend right in,” he says, tugging my hand in a silent plea to get off my seat and join him. “Except you’ll be the only one not trying to get discovered on Instagram.”
I slide into his lap, draping my legs across his and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He pulls me close, smiles against my temple and then his mouth finds mine. His hands span my hips like it’s second nature.
“This what you meant by ‘stay in bed’?” I murmur, running my lips over his jaw.
He chuckles, hand going into my hair where he grips it and tugs so I’m forced to look at him. “I can make a very convincing case.”
“You’re going to charm your way out of a full calendar today just because I kissed you on a balcony?”
Reid’s eyes grow dark and serious. His voice drops to a low rumble that makes my belly swirl with butterflies. “I’d cancel an entire race season if it meant more of this.”
An ache forms low, and I squirm as he tightens his hold, clearly not letting me go without a fight.
“Reid,” I warn, laughing as I try to wriggle free. “You have actual responsibilities.”
He groans theatrically. “You’re no fun.”
“You’re late,” I counter, finally slipping off his lap with a playful push at his chest.
He watches me with narrowed eyes but he’s still grinning. “Worth it.”
And I’m smiling again right back—giddy and warm and in over my head just a little. Yes, this is all overwhelming, but I’m so freaking happy. Even if the jet-set lifestyle feels odd, everything about Reid feels right.