Page 4 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

I stand next to Caleb outside the Collings Motors motorhome. My adrenaline is pumping, and I’m laser-focused on what I’m about to do.

I’m going to deliver a behind-the-scenes tour for The Downforce Network.

And I’m going to interview the mysterious Caleb Collings while I do it.

“We’ll just pass this mic back and forth between us when we speak. So I’ll ask you something, pass it to you, then when you’re finished, you can pass it back to me,” I say, showing him the mini microphone in my hand.

“Easy enough.”

I nod and turn to Chip. “I’m ready.”

“Recording,” he answers.

I smile brightly at Chip and begin my open.

“Hello, I’m Isla Foley for The Downforce Network, and I’m here in front of the Collings Motors motorhome in the paddock at the Miami Grand Prix.

Today I’m going to take you inside the motorhome.

You’re going to get a behind-the-scenes tour of where the team makes their base during a Grand Prix weekend.

But even better? I have a very special guide to show us around.

We have none other than Collings Motors driver Caleb Collings as our host. Caleb, how are you this morning?

” I ask, passing the tiny microphone to him.

Our fingertips touch, and I notice how rough and calloused his hands are.

Completely rugged. Masculine .

“Good morning, Isla. I’m always good on a race weekend, thank you.” Caleb’s voice practically rumbles through me, he’s standing so close. He passes the mic back to me, and I take it.

“Excellent. Thank you so much for spending a little bit of time with us this morning showing us around the motorhome. What should we know about it before we go inside?”

Caleb takes the mic. “Like you said, the motorhome is our team base for the weekend. It’s where the whole team eats, holds meetings, hosts sponsor events, and works. It’s a busy hub from the moment it’s set up.”

“I find this so fascinating,” I say, looking up at the massive structure next to me. “It’s hard to believe this was assembled from eight containers and will be taken down and shipped to the next location and put up all over again.”

“It’s really incredible what our team can do,” Caleb says, smiling at me. “They work hard to provide this home to us for every race, and it runs like clockwork. It’s amazing. Shall we go inside?”

“Yes, please.”

Luckily, I’m good at staying focused on my job, but I still can’t believe this is the same Caleb Collings who rarely participates in social media content and answers brusquely at press conferences.

He’s leading me inside the motorhome with a smile on his face, and my gut says he’s going to chat easily as he provides the tour.

Probably because of the disaster that happened in the conference room, but I’ll take this opportunity and run with it.

Caleb goes to the door and pushes it open for me. “After you.”

“Thank you.” I say. As I move past him, I detect the cologne lingering on his skin. It’s crisp and citrusy—almost like a vodka cocktail.

And it’s divine.

We step inside the lounge and eating area, and I turn around and stop in front of Chip, with Caleb—and his sensual masculine scent— beside me. “So this is the dining and lounge area,” I say. “I imagine a lot of time is spent here.”

Now we’ve gotten into the rhythm of passing the mic back and forth, and he anticipates me giving it to him and takes it.

“Yes. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served here daily, and there’s a coffee bar with our own barista staff. I take a lot of my meals here, because the food is exceptional. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

We pass by Collings Motors team members, dressed in the black and matte-silver polo shirts and black shorts that are the official team uniform. I notice shocked expressions on multiple faces as people see Caleb walking around with someone recording him.

We stop in front of the lavish breakfast buffet, and Caleb talks about all the offerings, what is standard, and what the chef has put up as a special for the morning—in today’s case, it’s a delicious-looking coconut-crusted french toast stuffed with passion fruit.

“Ooh, this is what I would have,” I say. “Please tell me you had it.”

Caleb chuckles. “No. The chefs here make me things based on what my dietician recommends. Both Mason and I follow eating plans designed for us and what we need as F1 drivers.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s all good, but I feel sad you didn’t get to try that french toast.”

He looks down at me, a hint of a smile playing on his full lips. “It’s tragic, actually. Here, let’s pop into the kitchen, because that is where the magic happens.”

Caleb leads me into the kitchen, which is bustling with activity. The chefs all look up when they see him and call out a greeting.

“This crew works so hard for us, having to feed so many people all day long. And not just feed us but feed us well. They do an incredible job.”

“This seems like it’s the heart of the Collings Motors hub,” I observe.

“Yes, exactly.”

We leave the staff to do their work, and I point out the luxurious coffee bar that I noticed when Catherine was showing me around. “Now this is like something out of an upscale coffeehouse.”

“This is probably the most popular feature of the motorhome,” Caleb says, grinning. “You can get all kinds of coffee and tea drinks here. This is Sydney. She’s one of our baristas, and she makes a killer latte. Say hi, Sydney.”

Sydney, who appears to be about my age, smiles shyly at the camera. “Hello,” she says.

“You can also get your latte or cappuccino with a picture printed on it,” Caleb says. “Sydney, can you show us one?”

It’s all I can do not to stare at Caleb with my mouth open. Who is this outgoing man? Why does he hide this part of himself so much? So far, he’s been authentic and engaging.

Completely unlike the Caleb we see on TV during a press conference.

Unlike the Caleb we get on the rare occasion he’s on social media.

He’s always been closed off. Until now.

“Sure thing,” Sydney says, going over to another machine.

“What would you like to drink?” Caleb asks.

Now my interview is becoming coffee with Caleb? THIS IS brILLIANT.

“Is a hazelnut mocha latte in the realm of possibilities?” I ask.

Sydney chuckles. “Yes, of course.”

“What’s your order?” I ask Caleb.

“Latte with soy milk in the morning,” he says. “Then I’ll have a coffee with a splash of soy milk in the afternoon.”

“What about tea?” I ask.

His mouth tips into a slow smile. “I shouldn’t answer this.”

“Shouldn’t. But you will, right?”

“I’m not much of a tea drinker,” he admits. “I hope my British citizenship will not be revoked for that comment.”

“You heard it here first. Caleb Collings doesn’t drink tea. Serious breaking news!” I say.

He chuckles, and Sydney places a beautiful latte in front of me, complete with the Collings Motors logo on top of it.

“Oh, look at this!” I say, delighted. “This is so fancy!”

Chip moves in closer to get a shot of the coffee. I lift the cup and take a very careful sip. I don’t want to get the foam on my lips.

Caleb picks up the mic. “How is it?”

“Mmm, this is delicious.” I quickly pick up a napkin and blot my mouth. “I think I’d work for Collings Motors just for the coffee alone,” I proclaim.

We make our way through the rest of the building, with Caleb popping open doors and surprising workers with his presence.

He pauses in the merchandise room and signs some hats, promising to return later.

Then we visit the communications and marketing team, all working away on their computers.

He shows me some private offices, like the one belonging to the team principal, Alex Oliver.

Caleb leads me to another room. “This team room has a lot going on—these are the people responsible for administration, logistics, travel, and hospitality.”

“Logistics—I can’t even imagine what that entails with a Formula 1 team.”

“Neither can I. That’s why I drive a car,” he says, flashing me a playful smile.

Again, I’m struck by his personality. Why does he hide this?

And why is he giving it to me?

But I know why. He’s giving it to me so hopefully I won’t go back to The Downforce Network and recap that encounter in the conference room.

We conclude our tour on the posh rooftop terrace, where Caleb talks a bit about what goes on up here, like hosting sponsor events, hanging out, enjoying this space at the end of the day. At that point, we’re finished.

“Well, Caleb, thank you so much for the tour. It was great to have such insider access,” I say.

“You’re very welcome,” he says.

I smile and look back at Chip. “I’m Isla Foley for The Downforce Network. Thank you for watching.”

Chip waits a few seconds and then stops recording. He walks over to me and hands me my phone. “That was great, Isla. Do you need anything else from me today?”

“No, Chip, thank you. This is my one assignment for The Downforce Network. So far,” I add hopefully.

“All right. I’m going to head out.”

“Thank you again for all of your work this morning. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Chip leaves, and now it’s just me and Caleb.

“So what happens next?” he asks.

“I’ll edit the video on my phone,” I say. “Once that’s done, I’ll send it over to The Downforce Network, and then they’ll put it up on their YouTube channel and social media sites.”

“And you’re hoping this will be your break.”

I nod. “I love F1. I’ve been creating content on my Connectivity Story Share for fun this past year. My thoughts on races, drivers, et cetera.”

Caleb quirks a brow. “Have you shared your thoughts on me?”

Suddenly I feel my face grow warm. Is it the Miami sunshine? The heat? The way Caleb is looking at me?

“Of course,” I say. “You’re a story worth talking about this season.”

Caleb folds his arms across his chest, and I notice the beautiful veins running through his forearms and up his sculpted biceps, disappearing under his Collings Motors polo shirt.