Slide Job (Cameron Motorsports) Read Online Free PDF

behind her, light as a cat.
    The early evening wind whipped across the plains and blew the smell of cinnamon into the open doorway with them. Why couldn’t he smell like old sneakers?
    “You didn’t burn your feet, did you?” Morgan dug into one of the open crates on the shelf and handed him a cylinder of baby wipes. “This should help clean them up until we can get you to a bathroom.” The trailer vibrated with the passing of another semi.
    She pushed a very large tire with a polished aluminum rim onto its side and slid it through a shaft of fading sunlight in his direction. “Have a seat.”
    He sat gingerly on the edge of the tire and opened the top of the wipes.
    She pulled one out, knelt down and reached for his foot.
    “ What are you doing?”
    “I’m cleaning the gas off your feet.”
    He swung his foot out of her reach, slanting to the side. “Oh no, you are not. I can clean my own damn feet.” He still sounded pissed. ”Do you always go around washing strange men’s feet?” He took off his sunglasses with his free hand and pocketed them in one smooth swipe. Light angled through the doorway revealing vivid blue eyes, narrowed in speculation.
    “Jeez. I said I was sorry. Here.” She dropped the wipe, and stood back up. “Get the gas off them, now. It’s not good for your skin.”
    She folded her arms under her breasts, leaned against the shelving and watched him cleanse one foot and then the other. His feet were long and lean, well proportioned, just like the rest of him.
    “On the four-one-one, I don’t ever wash any man’s feet. I screwed up, and was trying to make amends.” She wouldn’t deny the strange urge she had to touch him, but his feet? Eewww! She’d been out in the sun too long.
    The crew was waiting for her back at the restaurant, along with her parents. She didn’t really have time to waste on this guy, even if he was hot. “If you’re finished, tell me where you keep your extra pair of shoes and I’ll get them out of your car for you.”
    “How do you know I have extra shoes?” He looked at her like she’d sprouted two heads.
    This would teach her to check the gas tank. Nothing like having inane conversation with strangers on the side of the road to brighten your day.
    “Well, call out the FBI. You don’t look like Kansas, and you sure don’t sound like Kansas. It’s just a lucky guess on my part.” She shrugged her shoulders, and turned to reach into another crate.
    She handed him a Sharpie marker and a notebook she’d dug out. “While you’re waiting, if you jot down your name and address I’ll send you the replacement cost for your shoes and socks.”
    “My shoes are in the gym bag on the floor in front of the passenger seat.”
    Morgan stepped quickly out of the trailer, glad to put some distance between her and… well, hell. She didn’t want distance. She wanted to wrap herself in that warm cinnamon smell, and purr. What was up with that? She hadn’t reacted this way to a guy in as long as she could remember. Morgan shivered, having a visceral response to his scent, much stronger than any she’d experienced before. It felt as if her hormones were racing along in high gear, compelling her to leave common sense far behind.
    The sun hung, pale red now, low in the western sky, the last of its warm fingers caressing her skin as she moved toward his shiny silver car. Acres of ripe sunflowers stood in rows next to the highway with yellow heads bowed, ready for the long hot day to slither into a peaceful cool night.
    She breathed deeply, enjoying the warm fresh air. She loved sunsets. Everywhere she traveled, they were different. Each held its own beauty. She never tired of looking at them.
    The gym bag lay on the floor, right where he’d said it would be. On the seat, his cell phone rang on top of a briefcase.
    Morgan looked at it, debating whether or not to answer. The name Annie appeared on the display, and the chirping stopped. It was a good thing. She