Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) Read Free Page B

pained roll, Cal forced a practiced grin as he turned slowly around. Ah, thank God. It’s just JP. No need to slap the photo-face on.
    There wasn’t a single member of Crepuscolo Racing, who wasn’t aware of his physical challenges. Swiftly stepping to his side, JP grasped his arm and asked in rushed Italian if he was all right.
    All right and a dozen other expressions used to convince everyone that your shit is just great were little more than pejoratives in Cal’s vocabulary these days.
    Growling deeply, he grimaced at JP. “Fuck, no, I’m not all right. I have to get off my feet. Who are your friends?” he asked nodding toward the small cluster of people avidly watching their interaction. Knowing that at least one cell phone camera was probably in use only added to his aggravation.
    Still speaking Italian, “Thalia’s parents,” his teammate murmured. “One minute and I’ll clear the track so you can duck inside.”
    Cal liked JP. He wasn’t a dick. And he also wasn’t a very good driver. Renzo, that smarmy shit, was right about one thing. Crepuscolo was stalled in the standings. With the team’s two top drivers pulling limited duty, that left the second string drivers to pick up the slack. JP knew he was skating on thin ice, and unless he pulled off a couple of wins or impressive times, he was fucked at the end of the season.
    Sucking in an enormous lungful of air, Cal absorbed the energy, willing it into his back, stiffened slightly, and then turned all his attention on the man at his side.
    “Where is your lovely wife, hmmm?” he joked. “She finally tire of your lactose intolerant flatulence and haul butt out of here?”
    In heavily accented but flawless English, the much smaller man smirked, “Knowing you has taught me many things, Cal Tyler. Such as how evil you are for using three big words when one simple one would do. You are a translator’s nightmare, my friend.”
    Cal laughed. It’d taken him quite some time to come up with lactose intolerant flatulence when fart would have been much simpler. And why had he done it? Because fucking with JP was the highlight of his day. While mostly everyone else was neck-to-toes drama or an attitude diva, they both preferred a lighter touch.
    Because so much of what they did was physically demanding, when he wasn’t training or on the track, Cal liked his relaxing pursuits to be of a more cerebral nature. He blamed his parents in a totally loving, tongue-in-cheek way. Nothing quite like professional educators for parents! Being clever with words was part of the deal. Running endless verbal circles around his linguistically-challenged friend was a shit-ton of fun.
    “Well, my friend, grab your wife and let’s do this. If we’re going to take a group shot let’s make it a memorable one, okay?” he grinned. “And later on? When you look at the picture, if Thalia is smiling it’s because I have my hand on her ass.”
    JP sputtered then hooted a friendly laugh, quickly leading them into the middle of his family get-together. Aware of Cal’s precarious physical condition, his friend kept the introductions brief and the chitchat, warm, friendly and limited. Thalia offered a careful two-cheek kiss and a tiny nod of gratitude. Three minutes of camera fumbling followed, and the deed was done.
    True to his word, his teammate took it from there, guiding him quickly away from the crowds until a side door to the villa came into view.
    “Do you require anything, my friend?” JP asked with real concern.
    Offering his hand, Cal shook his head as their grip ended. “I’m good. Made it longer than I thought,” he scoffed as he rubbed at his forehead. It fucking sucked that it was like this. The constant vigilance and attention to every ache and pain. His every move scrutinized and discussed. JP was the only one who understood.
    “No more pills,” his friend scolded.
    “Nah, man. Told you. Done with that shit. Haven’t taken anything stronger than some