Thunderstruck Read Online Free

of whiskey and it burned on the way down. Only she didn’t sound too terribly sexy at that moment. She sounded furious.
    “Nothing will change my mind, Ernie, so just forget it. For. Get. It. I won’t even discuss it.”
    Something squeaked noisily, masking Ernie’s response.
    “Because he’s an outsider!” she insisted. “He can’t possibly understand this sport or our team or the history of Thunder Racing.”
    Mick stepped into the open doorway, catching Ernie’s eye as the older man leaned back lazily in one of the guest chairs. Shelby stared at a wall-size whiteboard covered with black and red markings, dates and words, giving Mick another view of her backside, with one hip notched to the side in anger, one booted foot tapping with pent-up energy.
    “He knows nothing about racing,” she murmured.
    “But I know about winning.”
    Instantly she spun around, amber eyes flashing at him.
    “At the end of the game—or race—that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Mick asked, taking a few steps into the room and holding her gaze with one he usually saved for his mark on a man-to-man defense.
    She stared him right back down. “It is not all that matters.”
    “No?” He looked at Ernie with incredulity. “Do you remember who came in second in last year’s championship? Who lost the World Series? Who was the second person to fly across the Atlantic? Who won the silver medal in anything ?”
    She didn’t say a word.
    He grinned at Ernie. “I see things are going swimmingly on your end, Ernest.”
    “She’s never been a fan of new ideas,” Ernie said in a stage whisper. Shelby simply gave him a deadly look.
    Mick offered his hand to her with an engaging and genuine smile. “I don’t think we were properly introduced. Mick Churchill.” He winked at her. “No relation to Winston.”
    No humor flickered in her wide-set brandy-colored eyes. “The word games are over, Mr. Churchill. Ernie shouldn’t have made any agreements, verbal or otherwise, to sell his half of the team to you, because I am his partner.” She stashed her hands into the pockets of khaki work pants, brandishing a gunfighter’s stance. “I don’t know how long you two have been pals working on this insane idea, but you can put it to rest right now. If anyone is buying Ernie out of his half of this race team, it’s me.”
    “A financial impossibility,” Mick noted, easing himself into the other guest chair and locking his hands behind his neck.
    “Not necessarily.”
    Yes, necessarily. He certainly hadn’t entered into this relationship without having legions of lawyers look at the risks. And, yes, some actually tried to talk him out of it. But that would have cost him a year, maybe more. And he had to get this done this year, this season. Or else he’d let some people down, some people he loved very, very much.
    “Ernest has been very candid about the economic situation of Thunder Racing. A situation, I might add, that I plan to rectify.”
    A tiny hint of color rose in her alabaster complexion. “We don’t need your rectifying, Mr. Churchill. We just signed a new sponsor. We have a second car. We are in excellent shape for the upcoming season.”
    “ Excellent being a relative term.”
    “Shel.” Ernie sat forward. “You need to hear him out. You need to think outside the box and consider what Mick can bring to the—”
    She waved her hand at Ernie. “I get the whole international-icon-media-magnet-sponsors-will-circle-us-waving-dollar-bills bit.”
    Mick set his elbow on the armrest and balanced his chin in his palm. “And your problem with this is?”
    She gave him a withering look as she sat in her squeaky chair. “My problem is that we are a family-owned team. And you are not family.”
    Ernie shook his head as though she just didn’t get it. “The days of family-owned teams are over in NASCAR.”
    She closed her eyes but said nothing.
    “Shelby,” Mick said quietly, “I hope you will at least give me the