Sweet Carolina Read Online Free PDF Page A

when the contract is
ready.”
    * * * *
    Dell closed the door behind her and watched
through the sidelight as Caro walked to her car. Who would have
thought little Carolina Hawkins would grow up to look like that?
When he opened the door and saw her standing on his porch, he
thought he was hallucinating. He'd heard she was back, and running
Hawkins Racing, but he hadn't seen her until tonight.
    Damn. Now he understood some of the bawdy
comments he'd heard around the garage. Caro had always been pretty,
but she'd also been a tomboy – smudged with dirt and grease. She
couldn't go five minutes without getting dirty.
    She wasn't dirty tonight. Nope. Her classy
clothes were spotless with that crisp,
don't-even-try-to-guess-how-much-I-cost look about them. Her father
had been right to send her away. She turned into a first-class
lady, and a beautiful one too. When her taillights were out of
sight, he shook his head and returned to the den and the six-pack
he'd been working his way through when she came calling.
    He opened another bottle and downed half in
one long pull. The cold liquid did nothing to ease the ache in his
groin or erase the image of Caro Hawkins' shapely ass from his
memory. The skinny tomboy wasn't skinny anymore. She'd developed
more curves than the track at Sonoma, and those legs… what he
wouldn't give to see the full straightaway of those. Preferably
wrapped around his hips, or spread on his bed. Then there was the
thing she did with her hair. Some sort of tight coil intended to
ward off the entire male population, but having the opposite
effect. On Caro, it looked utterly feminine and screamed a
challenge no human with a y chromosome could ignore. He had a
sneaking suspicion if you got the hair to unwind, the prim little
skirt she was wearing, and the silk blouse would disappear faster
than a pit stop.
    But he wasn't going to be the one to make it
happen. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he agreed to drive for
her. She was the boss, and Dell had never screwed an employer, and
he sure as hell wasn't going to start now. No matter what.
    Besides, this was Caro Hawkins. He'd raced
her Big Wheel-to-Big Wheel when they were kids. He wondered if she
still liked peanut butter and banana sandwiches and RC Cola or if
her tastes were more sophisticated now, like the way she dressed.
There wasn't much about the new Caro Hawkins that resembled the one
he remembered, except those eyes, and those lips. He'd been barely
old enough to start noticing those things when her dad sent her
away.
    He'd hated like hell for her to go, but
seeing the way she turned out, it was a good thing. No one in the
Hawkins' garage would have gotten a damned thing done with her
around. Throwing all that brewing estrogen into a garage full of
testosterone would have ignited one hell of a blaze. He wasn't
entirely sure it wouldn't now. Sure, she was older, and presumably
able to rein in her sexuality when need be, and now that she was
the boss, even more off limits than when she was the boss'
daughter.
    That was crap. Everything about her was
feminine, from her womanly curves to the intelligence in her eyes.
Her presence would disrupt a garage full of eunuchs.
    What the hell was he thinking? Did he want a
ride that bad? He drained the rest of his beer and let his head
drop against the back. No. He didn't want a ride that bad – he
needed a ride that bad. The only time he was able to forget was
when he was driving – fast. The faster, the better.
    The NASCAR official accused him of being
suicidal on the track. They didn't have a clue what they were
talking about. On the track was the only time he wasn't suicidal.
Behind the wheel of a stock car, he didn't have time to think about
anything but self-preservation. Get distracted for a fraction of a
second, and it would be all over. That was enough to keep him
focused on staying alive.
    It was all the other times – like tonight –
before Caro Hawkins showed up on his doorstep with her offer