Page 19 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

I punch the button for a down elevator. Caleb has gone to great lengths to meet tonight.

He’s rented a conference room here at the hotel so we’re ensured privacy.

Which is smart because The Downforce Network has a lot of crew members staying here, and we would be super obvious hanging out in a restaurant or bar.

I also appreciate that he didn’t invite me back to his motorhome, which I would have had to decline.

I wouldn’t want all the other drivers seeing me going in or coming out, not when I’m still getting to know Caleb.

I do still feel a bit of anxiety about being seen tonight. I’m going to have to be incredibly careful and alert, making sure the coast is clear before I make my way to the conference room.

No pressure.

As an elevator chimes in front of me, I step inside and press the button for the lobby. As soon as the doors close, my phone vibrates in my hand. I turn it over and see it’s a text from Caleb:

I’ve just parked, will be there in a few minutes. You can go inside the conference room if you’re ready. I have to warn you, I’ve come straight from a sponsor dinner, so I’m overdressed. Note this is NOT how I would dress for a coffee date.

A coffee date. This is really about to happen.

I text him back:

I’m on my way down now. I’ll head straight for the Oliva room. And I won’t judge you for not being dressed appropriately.

Ding!

The elevators open on the ground floor to a lobby full of people.

No doubt a mix of tourists and The Downforce Network crew members.

I take a moment and look around. Nobody has noticed me.

Okay, so far, so good. I follow the signs to the corridor that houses all the conference rooms, my heart pounding in fear of being discovered.

I find one marked “Oliva,” and a hotel staff person is standing outside.

“Hello, I have a meeting here this evening,” I say.

She smiles at me. “Your name, please?”

“Isla Foley.”

Her smile broadens. “Yes, Ms. Foley, please come in. My name is Bianca, and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”

“Thank you.”

She opens the door for me, and I step inside the conference room.

It’s small, set up for a meeting. The floors are light hardwood, and a modern rectangular conference table is in the middle.

There’s also a seating area with two leather club chairs and a small table in between them.

Large windows give a view of the lush lawn and bubbling fountain, all lit up for nighttime.

And along one wall, the catering staff has set up a coffee bar. Carafes of hot coffee—both regular and decaf—along with pitchers of milk and packets of sugar. There are ceramic cups and saucers, along with a pitcher of water and glasses.

“Does everything look okay?” Bianca asks me.

I turn back to her and nod. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

“I’ll be back to check on you later.”

Then Bianca exits the room, the door softly clicking behind her, and my anxiety about being spotted evaporates, but it’s replaced by nerves for this date.

I set my purse down and walk around the room. I’m excited for Caleb to get here. But I’m also scared. If I like him half as much as I suspect I will, it’s going to throw a whole bunch of difficulties into my plans for the future.

But Hadleigh was right. There are some things you have to trust your gut on. If I didn’t explore this chemistry with Caleb, I know I would wonder about it for the rest of my life.

And I can’t live with a what-if about Caleb Collings.

Suddenly the door clicks. I look up as it opens slowly. Caleb steps inside, and my heart leaps inside my chest.

He’s wearing a tuxedo.

The luxurious black jacket is fitted across his lean and sculpted frame, exquisitely cut.

A crisp white tuxedo shirt is underneath, but there’s no tie—which I love.

The shirt is unbuttoned a few notches—probably because his neck is so big from all the resistance training he has to do to keep it strong enough to withstand g-forces—and the white cuffs just peek out from the end of the sleeves.

His pants are perfectly cut to fit his athletic body.

I notice his hair is tousled a bit, and there’s dark stubble shading his jawline.

My eyes meet his, and I see he’s appraising me in the same way. But as I stare at him, I find myself unable to speak.

Caleb is devastatingly hot in a tux. But with the hair and the facial scruff? He’s rugged and refined, all rolled into one.

He walks closer to me. I have to remember to breathe.

“Apologies for the tuxedo,” he says, the hint of a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. “And for the conference room. It’s not exactly the way I’d want to have coffee with you, but it’s the best I could do with my schedule tonight and wanting to protect our privacy.”

I don’t respond right away. I’m inhaling that clean cologne on his skin, and damn it, he smells as good as he looks.

“You look beautiful, Isla,” he says softly.

God, I love the way my name sounds with his British accent!

“Thank you. And I know you apologized for the tuxedo, but you look good in it.”

“Thank you.” Caleb’s gaze travels down my body, and then he stops when he gets to my left arm. “You’re wearing it,” he says.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“The bracelet.”

I glance down at it. Caleb moves closer, and I think my heart is about to explode in my chest.

“You’re wearing it,” he repeats. “I hope that’s a good sign. Because I have a good feeling about tonight. And I hope you do, too.”