Fuel & Fire by Adell Ryan

Are you wondering how that whole “Remi keeping her distance from sexy men who live and breathe vehicles” thing is going?

In short… terrible.
My heart got involved. It wasn’t supposed to run a race of its own, especially one where the competition is fixed — a guaranteed loss no matter how fast or well I drive.
Choosing a side was never in the job description.

Imagine a game of car-crew tug-of-war: A rope is tethered between two vehicles. Racers have their hands wrapped around the steering wheel and sticky tires grip the asphalt. Engines are revving to pull at the signal — competitors ready to claim a win.

That flag entangled and dangling in the middle dividing the two sides? That’s me. The rope represents my secrets. My integrity. My pride. My fight…
My feelings.

With the job sabotaged, deciding where my loyalties lie has now become a requirement, and there’s no room for negotiations on this high-speed, two-lane freeway.
Family… or feelings?
One has to lose.