Page 50 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

I stare at Caleb, stunned. He wants to call my dad?

“What? Why? You don’t have to do that,” I say, panicked.

GAH, this is so not what I had in mind for their first meeting. I was thinking a dinner at a nice restaurant. Not a confrontational phone call over Caleb potentially blowing up my career.

“Wrong. I do. I’d prefer to do it before dinner, too,” he says, that determined look entering his eyes.

“Caleb, I don’t think this is a good idea. My dad was speaking from a parent’s perspective. He’s worried about me. He doesn’t know you.”

“That’s why I have to talk to him. He needs to know me.

That he can trust me when it comes to you,” he says, putting his hands on my face and tracing my cheekbones with the rough pads of his thumbs.

“I want your dad to understand that I’m going to do everything I can to protect you.

And I want to tell him what you mean to me. ”

I stare up at him, my breath caught in my throat in surprise. Caleb wants to tell my dad what I mean to him.

My heart begins to pound in my ears. This is love . This is what love means. Caleb is willing to call my dad because he cares about me and what my dad thinks. Most guys wouldn’t care enough to have this uncomfortable conversation this early in a relationship.

But Caleb does.

He’s willing to take all of this on. The challenges of dating a reporter, learning to trust me despite my role in the media, becoming vulnerable and opening up about his past—all of this is trust. It’s trust he’s never given anyone outside of Catherine.

And he’s given all of this to me.

I stare up at him, fighting back tears. This is what love is.

And I know I love him.

I can’t say it—I won’t say it, I don’t want him to think I’m blurting it out after a fight—but I know I do. It’s not just what he’s doing now, but it’s how he listens. He worked through our argument instead of running from it. Caleb is smart, sexy, he makes me laugh, he’s sharp, thoughtful …

I love this man. And one day soon I’ll tell him.

But not today.

“Isla?” Caleb asks, snapping me from my thoughts.

I swallow hard and blink back my tears. “Yes, you can call him,” I say.

Caleb nods. “Good. But first, you have to tell me what your dad said. Don’t give me an edited version. I need to know what your father thinks of me.”

“Okay.”

I proceed to tell Caleb the conversation I had with my dad in the car, and Caleb’s face remains neutral. He takes it all in, and as soon as I’m finished, he nods.

“Okay. Now would you get Mr. Foley on the phone for me?”

I smile at that. “His name is Mitch.”

He shakes his head. “He’s Mr. Foley until he tells me I can call him Mitch.”

I pick up my purse and retrieve my phone. I still don’t know how this is going to go down, but I love Caleb for wanting to at least talk to my dad.

I hit the call button and wait for him to answer. One ring. Two rings …

“Isla! How’s Montreal?” Dad’s cheerful voice answers.

“Hi, Dad,” I say. “Montreal is beautiful, and I’ve only seen a sliver of it.”

We go on to talk about the city, the weather, what I’m shooting tomorrow, and then I clear my throat. “Dad, I have a reason for calling,” I say. “I’m here with Caleb, and he would like to talk to you.”

Silence.

I don’t know what kind of silence this is. Surprised? Angry? My stomach twists as I wait for him to say something.

“He does?” my dad finally asks.

I nearly breathe a sigh of relief. Dad was surprised by the request, not mad.

I nod at Caleb. “Yes, he does. May I put him on?”

“Yes, you can.”

I hand the phone to Caleb, and for someone who drives at two hundred miles an hour for a living, I’m shocked to see he looks nervous as he puts my phone to his ear. “Mr. Foley?” he says. “Right, okay, Mitch …”

I can’t help but smile at that.

“I know this is bold, because I’ve just started dating your daughter and we haven’t had the opportunity to meet yet, but I’d like to reassure you of a few things …”

It’s hard to hear Caleb because my own heart is pounding so loudly. It’s thump-thump-thumping against my rib cage.

I listen as he proceeds to tell my dad what he thought when he met me.

How I stood up for myself, and how I was willing to walk away from a story if I wasn’t going to be respected— and how much Caleb respected and liked me for it.

With each sentence he speaks, I fall more and more in love with him.

Caleb tells my dad what makes me special, and he looks straight at me and smiles as he speaks, causing my heart to leap with joy.

He continues, acknowledging that the sacrifices will fall on my shoulders and how much he hates it.

He tells my dad if he could take anything away, that would be it, but he can’t.

Caleb stresses to my dad that he’s invested in this relationship.

He will make sure—to the best of his ability—that I’m protected in the paddock.

Finally, Caleb wraps up the call and then hands the phone back to me. I put the phone back to my ear. “Dad, I’m back,” I say.

Dad clears his throat. “Sweetheart, I’m going to be honest. Guys can throw up a bunch of words that every father wants to hear. Or a bunch of word salad. Just words that sound good, but don’t mean anything.”

My stomach sinks. I bite my lip, not saying anything.

“But that is not Caleb,” he says slowly. “I couldn’t see him—usually that’s the best way I can size up someone—but there was something in his tone, in the words he picked, and that he was man enough to want to tackle my concerns this early in the game that tells me everything I need to know.”

I stand very still, my heart racing in a whole new way. “And what is that?”

“That man is in love with you.”

I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.

“I’m trusting my gut on this one. I’m trusting yours, too,” Dad continues.

“I think Caleb is a good guy. The road ahead is still going to be very hard. Dating someone in this world is going to be one of your biggest challenges, and staying together isn’t going to be as easy as if you had chosen someone else. ”

“I know,” I say quietly.

“But if you think Caleb is worth the risk, then I support you. So will your mom. I know Hadleigh supports it, too.”

“Dad…” My voice is wobbly now. “This means everything to me. Thank you.”

“I love you, Isla,” he says, his own voice gruff. “I’m glad to know you have a man like that caring for you.”

I tell my dad I love him, too, and then disconnect the call. I turn to Caleb, who has been watching me with an anxious look on his face. Suddenly I burst out laughing.

“What?” he asks in confusion.

I toss my phone onto the sofa and wrap my arms around him, feeling his back muscles through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. “My dad likes you,” I say happily. “Mitch is glad you’re the man I’m seeing.”

“And why is that so funny, Owl?”

“Because you looked more nervous while I talked to him than I’ve ever seen you look on the track.”

Caleb places his hands on my hips. “Owl. I’m never nervous when I’m in the car. If you’re nervous, you’re dead.”

A sick feeling rips through me, and I shiver. Caleb feels it, because his eyes widen in surprise.

“Hey, hey, don’t look at me like that,” he pleads. “I’ve wrecked my car—you’ve seen it—and I’ve had it catch on fire whilst I was in it. Part of the sport.” He gently holds my chin with one of his hands. “And I’ve walked away every single time.”

“I know,” I say. “But I can’t even think about that possibility, Caleb. I—”

“Then don’t,” he interrupts, his voice firm. “I’m not trying to sound like an arse, but I’m bloody good at my job. I believe I’m third in the Drivers’ Championship standings. Only Xavier and Mason are ahead of me, you know.” Then he scowls. “Twats that they are.”

I can’t help but smile at that. “I know.”

“That they’re twats?”

I giggle. “No. That you’re an excellent driver.”

“All right. So check that worry, then, okay?”

“I’m always going to worry when you’re in that car.”

A playful smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. “I’d think it would be more productive for you to think about how hot I look in the car. And all the things you want to do to me as soon as you get me out of my race suit.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I know. But you’re thinking about tearing me out of it, aren’t you?”

As that image comes to mind, I allow my thoughts to shift from the scary reality of being an F1 driver to how good he looks in his black-and-white suit.

And I decide this is what I want to think about.

I want to think about Caleb and how I feel about him.

No more talk of what our relationship will bring.

I can deal with all of those thoughts tomorrow.

But at this moment? I want to feel.

I grab the hem of his T-shirt and jerk it up. “I want you.”

Caleb quickly takes his shirt off and casts it aside.

Before I can even lift my hand to run it over his pec muscles, his mouth crashes down upon mine.

His lips are hard and demanding, and my tongue instantly tangles with his as his hands move underneath my shirt.

As soon as I feel his warm, rough hands on my body, all I want is more of him.

We begin undressing, frantically tearing our clothing off each other and leaving a trail of it behind as we kiss our way back into the bedroom.

Caleb playfully scoops me up and throws me onto the king-sized bed, and I dissolve into giggles.

“Now you’re mine,” he says, taking a condom out of his wallet and tossing it next to me.

“Only if you can catch me,” I tease.

I begin to scramble off the bed, but in seconds, he’s got me by the waist. I’m laughing as he pins me to the mattress, his body weight on mine. “Really, Owl? You wondered if an F1 driver could catch you?”

“Just because your car is fast doesn’t mean you are,” I retort.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, gazing down at me through his fringe of long black lashes with a wonderful, playful, sexy look in his eyes. “Oh, I’m fast,” he says, dipping his head closer to my mouth. “But right now? I prefer slow .”

Then he kisses me deeply. I feel everything about the moment. From the slow, sensual movements of his tongue to the way one of his hands is reverently stroking my abdomen.

“Isla?” he whispers, lifting his head up.

I slide my hands up over his sculpted shoulders, gliding over his perfect ivory skin and beautiful muscles. “Yeah?”

“I feel like you were made for me,” he says, his voice rough.

I feel cherished. Desired. Sexy.

Love blooms in my chest, warm and wonderful and something completely new to me. I place my hand against his jawline and give him the only answer I can give him.

“I think I was,” I tell him softly.

Caleb’s mouth closes over mine again, this time, letting his kiss do all the talking. It’s gentle. Caring. Sweet. I feel his emotion behind the kiss, and I revel in receiving it from him.

I answer Caleb as I kiss him back.

Because with my kiss, I tell him that I’m absolutely certain he was made for me, too.