Hook Up: A Fake Dating, Brother’s Best Friend Romance
Hook Up: Chapter 9

It’s been ten days, and I miss my wife more than I miss breathing. We video chat daily, and I drag out every conversation because I hate ending the call, knowing I’ll face my king-sized bed without her gorgeous body next to me.

Greer, on the other hand, looks exhausted, the bags under her eyes visible through her makeup.

She didn’t have bags in Barbados. She glowed.

She’s less than two weeks into her former life and already she’s running on fumes. Her job was less than thrilled with her resignation and dumped all the crap cases on her as a parting gift. I begged her to quit, but she feels an obligation to her patients, despite her employer being a total prick.

Personally, I don’t think she owes them a damn thing.

The only upside? Every day we’re apart brings us one day closer to being reunited, and I remind her of this as soon as our call connects for the evening.

A smile splits her face, but it fades as she glances at my hand. “Where’s your ring?” she asks, pointing to her own wedding band.

I have a choice. I can make up some excuse she’ll no doubt believe and then change the subject. But I never want to lie to Greer. Her father and that piece of shit Richard spent years lying, wrecking her emotional stability in the process.

So, I opt for the truth, praying she understands my logic. “I’m not wearing it.” When her face falls, I realize I have seconds to prevent this chat from careening into the wall. “It’s not that I don’t love it. I do, but we haven’t announced anything yet.”

“Right,” she mumbles, her gaze intent on her hand. “Should I take mine off?”

“The press doesn’t know who you are yet. I plan on announcing our marriage after the first race. I want to keep the media’s focus on my training until that point.”

Please understand, beautiful. Please.

A sad smile colors her face, but she nods in agreement. “Whatever you need to do, Ryder. A few people asked me about the ring, but I never told them who I married. Your secret is safe.”

Hell, that’s not how I meant it. “I’m telling the world about us as soon as the race is finished. But I want you by my side when I make the announcement.” Wincing at my unintentional faux pas, I shoot her a rueful smile. “I should have spoken to you about everything first, ensured you were okay with my decision. I’ll put the ring on right now.”

Yep, I’m scrambling. I’m terrified she’ll slide on her trusty emotional armor again. It was no easy feat getting her to lay it aside the first time.

“It’s fine. Honestly. No big deal.” But the flat tone of her voice belies her innocent words. I’ve hurt her, which is the last thing I want to do.

“Gigi, it’s not like that.”

“How’s Greg settling in?” With that question, her armor snaps into place as she switches to a different topic.

“The man is a genius with automobiles.” Clearing my throat, I run my hand over my beard, uncertain how to proceed. “Can I ask something without you getting angry?”

Greer releases a short bark of laughter, averting her gaze. “That’s always the setup for a terrible question. Fire away.”

Yep, I have some serious damage control to handle after the ring fiasco. I see it in the set of her jaw, along with the fact that she’s barely meeting my gaze. Now, I’ve shot out another cryptic question and judging by the apprehension lining her face, she has no clue what I’ll hit her with next.

As I said, I have way more finesse on the track than with romance, but I’m trying. For Greer, I’ll never stop trying.

“Hopefully, it’s not a terrible topic. I pray it’s something benign and I’m overreacting.” It’s meant to soothe her nerves, but as soon as her dark gaze flies up to meet mine, I realize I’m only making the situation worse with every second wasted.

“Benign? Are you okay?”

“Bad choice of words. It’s about Greg and his drinking.”

“Don’t scare me like that.” Greer rubs her hand over her brow, a small sigh escaping her mouth. “I hoped he would rein in his drinking after the hubbub of the wedding and starting this new job. He’s not a mean drunk—”

“I know that, but he’s always got a drink in his hand. Except at the track, of course. But the minute we’re done, he’s in the cooler, popping open a beer. Should I be worried? You know him better than anyone, Gigi.”

“Mom and I have worried about his drinking for years. My father had a drinking problem, and we all know there’s a hereditary link. I’ve never known Greg to mix business and pleasure, although their borders lie really close together. Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, I’ll do it. You have enough on your plate.” Drumming the table, I stare at her image, the apprehension wafting off her in waves. Time to get to the bottom of whatever is eating at her emotions. “Hey beautiful, what did you think I was going to ask?”

“Nothing.” Once again, Greer won’t meet my gaze. A sure sign she’s lying.

“Don’t nothing me. What did you think I was going to say?”

“That you wanted an annulment.”

Her off-the-cuff reply knocks me sideways. “Where did that come from?”

She shrugs, her gaze fixed on the floor.

“Gigi, we are never getting divorced. Not happening.”

But instead of a smile lighting up her face, she only offers a slight nod. “It just seemed odd that you weren’t wearing you ring, so I thought…who knows what I thought? I’m beat from work and I have an early conference call in the morning. Can we talk tomorrow?”

No way will I end this call with her on that note. She needs to understand how much I adore her.

“I love you, Greer Gray. Do you hear me? I’m a total shit for not wearing my ring and I’ll tell the world tomorrow, I promise.” I send her a smile, trying to coax one in return. “I just wanted you by my side so I could make every man jealous that I had you and no one else ever would. Actually, I’m desperate for you to be here. I’ve spent so many days without you, and I’m not sure how many more I can stand. When you boarded that plane, you took the color out of my life.”

Greer releases an exasperated sigh, those wide eyes finally meeting my gaze. “Damn you. That was good. How am I supposed to stay mad after such a romantic sentiment?”

I chuckle, letting my fingers trace the lines of her face on the screen. “An annulment? You are way off. In fact, I want to know when we can start prepping for our next phase.”

“Phase?”

“You. Me. A ton of sex. Nine months later, you get the picture.”

“A secret marriage and I lose my bikini body? I don’t know. That might be too much to ask.”

“You know I’m knocking you up, right? You’ll rock a bikini, even at nine months pregnant.”

“I highly doubt that fact.” She’s trying to maintain a serious expression, but I see the mischievous glint in her eye. “My bed is calling.”

“Damn thing never calls me.” Even though we’re now jovial, I need to drive home how serious I am about our marriage. Our future. The last thing I need is for Greer to distance herself. The woman is a master at shielding her emotions, even if she’s never been good at hiding them from me.

Somehow, we always got each other.

“I’ll issue a press release in the morning. Just be prepared. The media are going to have a field day with the news.”

“It will keep, Ryder. Your only focus should be ensuring that sexy ass is safe during the race. But once I’m back, and the race is over, that ring goes on your finger. Deal?”

“Forever and always.” I pull open my shirt, showing the medallion. “I’m ready to retire this guy. I want you as my good luck charm.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

We end the call, but I continue to weigh my options regarding our marriage. Maybe I should announce our betrothal and fuck anyone who doesn’t understand.

My doorbell peals, jolting me from my thoughts. Who the hell is stopping by now? My money is on Greg; he’s already managed to lock himself out of the pool house once today.

But it isn’t Greg standing on my vestibule. It’s Mandi.

Isn’t this a wonderful way to end an evening?

“What are you doing here?”

Shifting her weight, she sucks in a breath. “Can we talk?”

“About?” Yes, I’m curt, but I have no desire to rehash our sham of a relationship. Mandi has already chewed my ear several times over the last couple of weeks, volleying for a second chance.

She fails to realize she’s out of chances. The moment the love of my life walked back into my life, everyone else failed to exist. At least as far as I’m concerned.

What I felt for Mandi, even in the beginning, pales compared to the adoration I feel for Greer. It’s not even close. Hell, it’s not even the same ballpark. And no matter what Mandi claims, she cheated on me. Twice.

Leaning against the doorframe, I block her forward movement into the house. “I don’t think we have anything to say to one another.”

“I have a few things to say to you if you can spare the time.”

Calling on all my patience, I hold back from rolling my eyes as I wave her into the house. The woman is a born drama queen. She won’t go away quietly. Best to let her speak her mind and then show her ass to the door.

Again.

I stop by the bar, pouring myself a glass of wine. Hey, I’m pretty damn positive I’ll need a drink for this conversation. “You want one?”

Mandi accepts my offering and we walk out to the patio. I consider it neutral territory, the proverbial no-man’s-land for her forthcoming painful diatribe.

Crossing her long legs, she glances around at the place she used to call home. It’s crazy how much can change in thirty days. “How have you been?”

I sputter my drink, glaring in her direction. “Save the pleasantries. Say what you have to say.”

“You claim we aren’t good together, but I disagree. We had several wonderful months and there was love there, even if we lost our way in the end.”

“Why are you involving me in that statement? You cheated, remember? That’s what ended this relationship.”

“And the first thing you do is fly to Vegas and hook up with another woman. Who is she, anyway? Some high-dollar stripper?”

“How is that your business?” I refuse to divulge any information about my wife to Mandi, especially before the press release. All Greer needs is to be harangued by my ex-girlfriend about how she stole her man, or whatever inane story she creates in her mind. That will definitely send her scrambling for the hills.

“Is she here? I’d like to meet the woman who’s taken my place. Have you moved her in yet?”

“Was this your plan? Barrage me with questions about the woman in Vegas?”

“Does she mean anything, or was she just a fling?”

“Again, none of your business.” I sit forward, my foot tapping ceaselessly on the ground. “You should go.”

“Do you know why I cheated?”

This time the eye roll wins out. I don’t give a damn why she cheated. It’s over and done with, and now I need her gone.

Unlucky for me, Mandi is far from finished.

“You were emotionally unavailable, Ryder. All you care about is your stupid car and your stupid races.”

A harsh bark of laughter shoots from my lips. “First, that isn’t true. Second, that stupid car afforded your lifestyle here. But instead of appreciating it, you threw it in my face. Fucked someone else.”

“So did you. Don’t forget you stepped out on me, too.”

It’s a low blow, but I should have known it would come around to my indiscretion. Was I unfaithful to Mandi? Depends on how you look at it. After she cheated the first time, I dumped her ass, went to the club, and screwed a woman whose name I don’t recall.

It was a real low point, but I own my past—the good and bad parts.

“We also said after our reconciliation that we would focus on making this relationship work. Do you recall that discussion? Apparently not, since you screwed a man in my house while I was away.” Another bark of laughter cuts through the night air. “Well, you thought I was away. We both got one hell of a surprise that day.”

Mandi grasps my hands, an unexpected and wholly unwelcome move. “I know I messed up, but I’d like you to consider giving us another chance. A real chance.”

I open my mouth to object, but she waves her hand, silencing my argument.

“Give it some thought. That’s all I ask.”

She stands suddenly, pressing a kiss to my mouth before turning toward the door.

If I don’t set the record straight now, Mandi will never cease and desist. Chasing her into the house, I grasp her shoulders, spinning her around. “While I appreciate your pseudo apology, I’m not interested in reconciliation. I’ve moved on. I suggest you do the same.”

“I’ll give you a few days to think it over.”

How dense is this woman? Holding open the door, I force a smile. “My answer isn’t going to change. Good luck to you, Mandi.”

I sag against the wall the moment she leaves, releasing an aggravated sigh.

I assumed after our last call, where I reiterated—again—how I was done with our relationship, that she would take the hint.

I thought wrong. Apparently, Mandi doesn’t enjoy being told no.

Too bad for her, because I’m not changing my mind.

“You did what?” Mr. Givens, my lawyer, is less than thrilled with me. To be honest, I worry he might have a coronary at my breakfast bar. “What is wrong with you? You married this woman without a prenup?”

“I did.” I’m not sure why he’s so bent out of shape. It’s my money.

“You realize she could take you for half.”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“Right. Because I’ve never heard that line before.”

“You don’t know Greer.”

“Forgive me, Ryder, but neither do you. I notice she’s not here. Where is she?”

I bristle at Mr. Givens’ tone regarding my wife. “She had to finish up her work on Long Island.”

He buries his head in his hands. “I’m going to call her and see if I can’t get some agreement drawn up. Likely won’t stand in court, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Don’t you dare,” I warn.

“I know you think you’re in love, but you’ve worked so hard for all of this. Don’t throw it away on a decision made in the heat of the moment.”

I understand his point. It’s valid. To the outside world, my decision would appear impetuous and rash. But what the outside world doesn’t know is my long-standing desire to be with Greer.

They also don’t know her.

Although they will now.

Mr. Givens appeared on my doorstep, a stack of tabloids in his hands, demanding to know if there was any truth behind the rumors flooding the gossip mags. Those rumors being my surprise nuptials. Although they haven’t clinched any definitive proof, it’s only a matter of time. After all, marriages are a public record.

I wonder who leaked the news, although my money is on the maid who cleaned our villa. She was highly attentive to our needs, even claiming to be a huge fan of racing. Now I realize she was really a huge fan of dollar signs.

Mr. Givens expected me to be furious, but I simply shrugged and chuckled before letting him in on the events of the past few weeks. Granted, it’s not the way I planned for the news to hit the airwaves, but my hope is the race this weekend will overshadow any gossip, just long enough for my wife to get her sexy ass down here.

Then, I’ll let the truth hang out.

“What am I supposed to do here, Ryder? You hired me to protect your investments, then you throw them away on a spur-of-the-moment wedding to some woman I’ve never heard of. Please tell me she’s not a Vegas showgirl. Showgirls are notorious for this type of garbage.”

“She’s got the body of a showgirl,” I reply, smirking at Mr. Given’s horrified expression. “I’ve known her since I was ten and I’ve loved her that long.”

“Then why haven’t I heard about her?”

“I thought she was married. Turns out, she wasn’t. But I fixed that problem. Next on the agenda is a baby, in case you want to throw another apoplectic fit.”

“I’m so glad you replace this amusing.”

“I got married. I didn’t murder anyone. Relax. Have a cocktail. I need to call Gigi because it’s only a matter of time before the press gets hold of her name.”

Strolling out of the kitchen, I glance over my shoulder, laughing when I see my lawyer grab the bottle of gin. Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere.

Greer picks up on the first ring, her voice hushed. “I swear I didn’t say anything. Are you okay? Are you freaking out?”

“I’m fine.” Actually, I’m thrilled the truth is out. The look of disappointment on Greer’s face when she discovered I wasn’t wearing my ring haunted me the entire night.

“Are you lying?” I hate the hesitation in her voice, the uncertainty.

“No. My only concern is your safety and the media bothering you. Has anyone said anything?”

“Not at all, except for one of my coworkers, who claims to be insanely jealous of whoever your wife is because you are, as she puts it, the hottest man in the world of racing.”

I chuckle into the phone. “She’s not lying.”

“Your ego is intact, thank God. Had me worried for a minute. How long until they figure out my name?”

“Depends, but not long. A couple of days at the most.”

“What should I tell the media, if someone corners me?”

“Tell them you’re married to the hottest man in the world of racing.”

“How about no comment?”

“I like the first option better.”

“You would,” Greer chuckles. “Let me run. I have some paperwork to finish before I squirrel myself away in my apartment.”

“I love you, Mrs. Gray. I can’t wait for you to be back here. Hey, before you go, what day are you flying in? I’ll book your flight. The race is Sunday, but I’d love for you to be here Saturday.”

Silence. Never a good thing.

“Gigi? When are you coming home?”

“I don’t know if I’ll make the race, Ryder.” She shushes me when I groan into the phone. “Trust me, I’m trying but I’m overloaded with work.”

“You quit. As of Friday you’re done.”

“I feel bad for the patients. They’re having a hard time with my resignation.”

With an aggravated grunt, I stroll onto the patio, coffee in hand. “Well, I’m having a hard time with your absence, and I’m your husband. I win.”

“I promise this is the last race I’ll miss.”

“I want you at this race.” Am I being difficult? Yes, but I’m desperate for her to be in my arms again. Besides, the media will no doubt be looking for her at the race, wondering why my new wife is noticeably absent.

“How about I make it up to you with daily blowjobs for the rest of the circuit?”

Holy fuck, that got my attention. “I’m listening.”

“Will you forgive me for missing the race?”

“You’ll be here by Monday?” Glancing up, I see Greg hovering at the far end of the patio, a stern expression coloring his face. Guess someone else read the tabloids.

“Promise.”

“This is your one and only get out of jail free card. Call me later and be safe. Anyone bothers you, let me know and I’ll hire security.”

“No one cares about me, Ryder.”

That’s not entirely true, particularly not with my rabid fanbase, but there’s no sense in upsetting her. “I care about you. A whole hell of a lot.”

“You better.” With a kiss into the phone, she ends the call and I mentally prepare for my discussion with Greg. Here’s hoping I don’t have to duck and cover. “Morning. Ready for the weekend?”

“Probably more nervous than you are.”

“You’ll do great.”

Greg clears his throat, holding up a magazine. “You’re married?”

With a sigh, I nod. “I am.”

“Am I correct to assume your wife is my sister?”

“You are.”

“Is this some sort of public relations thing? I know Greer mentioned some sort of deal between the two of you, but I thought that was just your way of keeping her close.”

“There is no deal, except that she’s my wife.”

“Then why wasn’t anyone told? You know, like us little people, also known as her family?”

Shit, this is taking a dangerous turn. “We eloped in Barbados. A quiet ceremony with just the two of us.”

“Right, but Barbados ended weeks ago and I’m replaceing out from a rag mag.”

“We planned on keeping it quiet until after the first race.”

“Meaning you planned to keep it quiet?” He holds up his hand when I try to interject. “Let me say my peace. So, you eloped. Fine. You’re keeping it on the down low. Okay. But then, on the same rack of magazines that is crowing about your marriage to some mystery brunette, there’s this.”

He tosses two magazines my way and I cringe, reading the captions about Mandi and my imminent reconciliation. “Dude, it’s tabloids. They’re all bullshit.”

“Normally, I’d agree. But this woman who claims you two are back together was at your house last night. I saw you drinking wine on the patio.”

Mayday, mayday. “I didn’t know you heard us.”

“I live literally across the pool, Ryder. But that’s the wrong response. Your ex was here and your wife—my sister—isn’t. It’s your life but if you hurt Greer, I’m going to hurt you.”

“I’ll never hurt her. You have my word. I absolutely adore Gigi.”

“This looks bad, man. Dead this situation with Mandi because if Greer replaces out there’s truth to these claims, she’ll run away faster than any F1.”

Greg’s words stick with me until the second I slide behind the wheel for Friday’s practice. I need my head in the game, tabloid fodder or no. Luckily, he’s shelved any discussion of his sister, his only focus on the safety and speed of the vehicle carrying me around the circuit.

Just like me, he has a one-track mind when it’s go time.

My friend has also proven himself a valuable addition to the team. Hey, I don’t just choose my crew willy-nilly.

I trust him with my life because that’s what he holds in his hands.

Friday’s practice went smooth as glass, even though I noticed Greg didn’t give it twenty minutes before a beer was in his hand. When I pulled him aside, he downplayed it, promising me, much like his sister, that he doesn’t mix business with pleasure. Let’s hope that’s the truth.

As soon as practice wraps, a hand claps around my shoulder. Glancing up, I catch Colton’s amused smirk. “So, is there truth to this rumor, or are the magazines spouting shit again?” I chuckle, and Colton’s grin widens. “Holy crap. You crossed to the dark side. Please tell me it isn’t Mandi.”

“Her name is Greer, and I’ve been in love with her since I was ten. We reconnected at her brother’s wedding,” I add, motioning in Greg’s direction.

“That old Vegas adage doesn’t hold true for you, does it?” Colton shoots me a light jab in the arm, toasting me with his water bottle. “Congratulations. Where is she?”

“Still in New York. She’s a nurse practitioner and has to finish up with her patients.”

“I get obligations. Does she have any idea about the world of crazy she just married into?”

“Likely not, but now she’s trapped. Hell, my lawyer almost had a coronary when he discovered we didn’t sign a prenup.”

“Damn, you are in love.” Colton gestures to where Greg stands with a few other crew members. “What crew did you steal him from?”

“None, but he’s been around cars since birth. I came up racing with him. He was better than me, to be honest, but his family situation ended his chances of a career. He’s been an excellent addition so far.”

A frown creases Colton’s brow. “I’ve no doubt, but this is the big league. Maybe he should function as a backup for a few races. Get his feet wet.”

“He’s good to go.” Normally I don’t question Colton’s authority, but I know my friend.

He was born ready.

After finishing first in Saturday’s timed trials, I’m on top of the world.

Now if only my wife would get her sexy ass down here.

Grabbing my phone, I dial her number. Christ, I miss her.

“Hi, handsome.”

“I’m leaving you a ticket, just in case. I know you’re busy and have obligations, but I need my cheerleader.”

Greer stays silent a few beats, and I wonder if I’m pushing too hard. Let’s admit it—I’m used to getting what I want. “You know, if a woman was trying to surprise you, you would kill it every time. Focus on the race, Mr. Gray. Even if I’m not there in person, I’ll be there in spirit. I appreciate the ticket, though. Just in case.”

“Be forewarned after you get back here, I’m supergluing you to my side.”

I love her husky chuckle. The only thing better? That chuckle followed by her naked body straddling me. That’s the thing with incredible sex. Once you experience it, it becomes the most potent addiction in the world.

It becomes all you can think about.

She’s all I can think about.

Even my racing career dims next to her light. Greer has usurped racing in my heart, taking center stage and becoming the center of my world. The weirdest part is how fine I am with that concept.

Feeling for the small box in my pocket, a smile crosses my face. I had to pay a mint, but the jewelers worked overtime to get Gigi’s ring finished by this weekend. It’s a six-carat stunner, as flawless as the woman herself.

Time to slide this beauty on my beauty’s hand, locking her down for life.

Unfortunately, my beautiful woman isn’t here, and time is growing short for her to arrive before the race. As is custom for races held in Charlotte, the entire team shacks up for the weekend at a luxury hotel only a mile from the track. Such a hardship, I realize, but there is a method to our madness.

I may only live an hour from the track, but Charlotte is renowned for her snarling traffic jams. Not something you want to encounter when time is at a premium. Staying here allows us to hash out any last-minute issues and also be only moments from the track, should the need arise.

It’s a win-win.

Colton, Rylee, and I enjoy an early dinner discussing the next day’s race. She’s been a part of the racing world for years now by her husband’s side, but I see the relief in her face that he’s no longer sliding behind the wheel.

I know there are days when Colton misses the feeling of flying. Hell, racing is as much in his blood as mine.

Having a kid changed his mind. To hear him tell it, he knew he wanted to be there to watch him grow up. So, his priorities and position changed.

This is the best of both worlds for him. He gets to live amongst the sport he worships while going home safe every night to his family.

I’m not there yet. I still crave that adrenaline rush, although I admit that being with Greer is its own form of speed. For the first time, I understand Colton’s position.

After dinner, we stroll toward the elevator. Time to turn in and get some rest for tomorrow. I have a race to win.

Rylee, although disappointed Greer wasn’t here, is thrilled to learn I’m no longer a single man. Stepping into the elevator with Colton, she sends me a megawatt smile. “I can’t wait to meet your wife. She must have superpowers to tame Ryder Gray.”

With a chuckle, I watch the doors close. To be fair, Rylee isn’t far off. Greer is my superwoman.

“She’s not the only one who wants to know about your new wife.”

Spinning on my heel, I release a noisy exhalation. “Mandi. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for answers.” Her pale blue eyes fill with tears, a few escaping down her cheeks. “I think after everything, you at least owe me that. I asked you if it was serious, and you denied it.”

“No, I wouldn’t answer the question because I knew how you’d take it.” Honestly, I knew she’d be pissed, but I figured she would key my car, not break down in tears, demanding answers. “I’m sorry if you’re hurt because of this news.”

“I’m hurt because of you,” she huffs, her body shaking. “I deserved better than that.”

To be fair, I don’t think my ex deserves any explanation, aside from what I told her the other night. I moved on. She needs to do the same.

But I’d be a bastard to leave her in the lobby, sobbing out my name.

The least I can give her is an explanation. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I steer her toward the lobby restaurant, prepared to give her one.