by Alice Ward
She stared at me, openmouthed. “You were a self-made millionaire by the age of eighteen? That’s impressive, Locke. Bet those bullies stopped making fun of you then.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. But you don’t get over shit like that. I still sometimes wake up with their voices in my ears. You’re worthless, you’re a loser, you’re a fat piece of shit. That’s why we started the Cage Foundation, to prevent bullying in schools, get kids to be kind and stop that shit before it starts.”
She swallowed, and a flash of worry crossed her face.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just that, UnCaged is such a good company. It has a good mission, good products…” She jiggled the CageFree on her wrist.
“Oh, so you like the thing now?”
“I’ve gotten used to it. And UnCaged has good people, and—”
“An extremely sexy CEO?” I put in.
“Right. Totally,” she said, giving me a sly roll of the eyes. “It’s all very, very good. I’m honored to be a part of it. But I don’t want to let you down today.”
“You won’t,” I told her. Then I reached over and took another piece of bacon from the plate. What the hell. I’d workout an extra hour later to burn it off. “Just do like you did in practice yesterday. Stay on it. Don’t feel like you have to fight your way to the front right away. It’s a short race compared to what you’ve been trying for, but don’t get cocky. Take it easy and don’t burn yourself out. All right?”
She nodded. “I can’t believe I’m going to be racing in a Daytona qualifier. I never thought I’d actually be in the Monster Energy series. I thought I’d be Xfinity, tops, which was incredible in itself. But this is beyond anything I ever could have imagined. And… a little terrifying.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What happened to wiping the oval with the asses of your competitors?”
She dropped her face in her hands. “God, I wish I’d never said that.”
“Well. Keep in mind. We don’t expect miracles. We’re not expecting you to win pole or anything. Hell, if you don’t qualify, that’s okay with us. You just do your stuff out there and consider it practice for the rest of the season. Okay?”
She frowned. “I’m still gonna try to win,” she said under her breath, looking sheepishly at her plate.
I laughed. “Don’t get yourself killed, okay? You’re a little fish in that pond, racing against a lot more experience.”
She scowled at me. “Stop. You’re giving me jitters. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay, anything but about how much of a loser I used to be when I was a kid,” I said, polishing off the second piece of bacon. I really could have gone for a third. And a fourth. Everything in moderation. The problem was, it was my competitive spirit. I never had enough. I always wanted more, more, more. “So, when you dreamed of making it big, did you dream of winning the Daytona 500?”
She shook her head. “Nah. I want to win in Phoenix. That’s where I grew up, and where I hitched all my dreams. If I can do something in that one, I’d consider that the pinnacle. Couldn’t beat that.”
“Phoenix. So that’s… when?”
“April. Or November,” she said, a flash of concern on her face. I had to wonder if she was thinking about when her brother had gotten hurt there. “That, and I guess the Daytona 500. But only after ISM.”
“So, you have a bucket list, huh?” I leaned forward, interested. “What else is on your bucket list?”
“Hmm.” She thought for a minute. “I don’t have one of those.”
“You want to travel? See things?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I don’t like traveling. I just want to…” Pink started to bloom on her cheeks. “Well, there is one thing.”
“Tell me.” Now, I had to know. From the way she was blushing, it had to be something juicy.
“No,” she said, thinking hard on it. “Hell, no.”
Now I was burning with desire to know this secret. “What?” I made like I was going to lunge for her. “Don’t tell me I have to tickle it out of you.”
“You touch me,” she said, lifting up her useless butter knife. “I will stab you with this.”
I sat back down, not sure I could put assault with a butter knife past her. After all, I’d seen the way she’d slugged her brother. “Then tell me.”
“No. Well, what about you? You have your fortune, Mr. Teenage Millionaire. Do you have anything on your bucket list?”
I scratched my jaw. It was true, most things, if I wanted them, I just went out and bought. I liked to travel, but I’d done that, to every continent, having active adventures like cliff diving and scuba diving and rappelling along the way. Anything I’d wanted to try, I’d already done. That was called taking life by the horns, making every day count.
“Nope,” I said, studying her as something floated into my head.
She narrowed her eyes at me. I could tell she didn’t believe me. And she was right. There’d been something on my bucket list, ever since I’d had that fantasy in the shower about her. But hell if I’d tell anyone that. Unless…
“You tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine,” she said, dangling the challenge in front of me.
I crossed my arms. She knew just how to sway me. She knew I couldn’t back down once the gauntlet was thrown. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“Well?” She was egging me on now. “You go first.”
“Fine. But if I tell you, you have to make it come true.”
She smiled. “Is it within my power?”
I nodded.
“Okay. But you’ll have to do the same for mine then.”
I conceded to that.
She lifted an eyebrow. “So, go.”
“All right, all right.” I crossed my arms. “I’d love to see you naked on the hood of your racecar. I’d love to take you, right there.”
Her eyes widened just before a sultry smile spread across her face. “Really?”
I nodded and took a sip of my coffee.
“Wow. I’m flattered. All the things in the world, and you pick that?”
I smirked. “I’ve done all that other stuff. At least, the stuff I’ve wanted to do.”
“Yeah? Spoiled pretty-boy.” She tapped her chin, thinking. “I don’t know how we could do that. The cars are usually locked up and—”
“You’re inventive. I’m sure you can find a way.” I put my mug down. “Now, you.”
“Okay, okay.” She put her fork down, looked around conspiratorially, as if there might be someone listening. “I. Want. To. See. The. Picture.”
It took me a second to remember what picture she was talking about. I frowned, picked up my fork, and pointed it at her. “When I’m cold and dead.”
She smiled triumphantly.
I waited. When she didn’t say more, I groaned. “Seriously. That’s it?”
Her face turned serious. “No,” she said. “All right, all right. Here it is. Don’t laugh.”
“I won’t.” I crossed my heart and held up my hand in solemn promise.
“Okay. Truthfully, I’ve always wanted to have a spa day.”
I looked at her, waiting for the punchline. When it didn’t come, I burst out laughing.
Her eyes widened. “Didn’t you just say you wouldn’t laugh? What’s so funny about it?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just, from the way you were looking at me, I thought you were going to announce something really bizarre.”
“Well, it is bizarre. I’ve never even had my nails painted until I met Adlar. Brody’d probably think I was going soft on him. As a James, we’re supposed to have grease under our fingernails at all times. I’ve never seen my momma wear a lick of makeup.”
I smiled. “Well, you said you didn’t want that massage, you being ticklish and all.” I lifted my empty plate, paired it with hers, and carried them to the sink. “What if I booked you in at a place for tomorrow. After the race?”
She chewed her bottom lip, suddenly look
ing nervous. “Um. By myself?”
“What, you want me to go with you?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m just a little nervous.”
“Spas are supposed to make you feel the exact opposite of that.” When she looked at me doubtfully, I said, “So you’re more nervous about the spa than the race?”
She tilted a hand back and forth in front of her. “Fifty-fifty.”
I laughed, took her hand, and lifted her out of her seat, pulling her flush against me. “You’re insane, you know that?”
“I’ve been told that once or twice.”
I kissed her again, roving my hands up her UnCaged tech shirt, happy to find she had nothing on underneath. This woman got me going in all the right ways, challenging me not just physically but mentally as well. She was like riding a fucking rollercoaster in the dark, having no clue where she’d take me. Women usually wore on me after the second or third fuck. But I couldn’t see myself ever growing tired of this, of being with Emma. I could even see myself growing old with someone like her.
And why the hell was I thinking about a future right now? I’d never, ever thought of a future with other women. Emma just made it so damn easy.
I didn’t know what we were doing, or whether this would last, but the one thing I knew was that I wanted this, again, as soon as possible.
We just had the damn race this afternoon to contend with.
When I changed out of my clothes and kissed her at the door, she smiled and batted her eyelashes coyly. “See you at the race,” she said, hanging on the door. “You’ll know me because I’ll be the one that they’re waving that checkered flag at.”
I laughed, ran my hand along her jaw, tilting her chin up to me, and gave her a very chaste kiss on the lips. “Good luck today. Don’t forget to wear that underwear inside out.”
As I turned and headed to my car, I was grinning like crazy.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Emma
“Drivers, Start your engines!”
I pressed the button to start the ignition, and my Fusion roared to life, humming underneath me. Meanwhile, my CageFree beeped up a storm, warning me of my oncoming heart attack.
Okay, I will not throw up, I told myself, silencing the damn thing. It had grown on me, but not really as much as I’d let on to Locke.
Everything was good. I’d gone through all my superstitions, ticking them off one by one. Inside-out undies? Check. Doublemint? Check. I’d sat in the car at 12:34, which seemed extra lucky. I’d covered all my bases.
I was hoping that knowing that would’ve made me feel more confident. But the nausea was still fighting a battle in my throat.
I knew that Locke and the rest of them didn’t expect much from me for the Daytona qualifier. Earlier that day, I’d done my lap, and the top finishers from that would have gone straight into Daytona. But I’d come in much slower than I’d wanted to, in the bottom quarter of all racers. Since this was my first Monster Energy Cup qualifying race, I wasn’t expected to do much more than finish out the race. Anything beyond that would just be icing on the cake.
But deep inside, I wanted more.
After hearing Locke pour his heart out about UnCaged Fitness, and how he’d worked so hard to make it America’s number one fitness brand, I felt a heavy burden on me to do well. I wanted to do him proud. I wanted to live up to the UnCaged name. I felt like he and UnCaged deserved more.
I thought of Locke out there, likely in the UnCaged private suite watching me. I thought about his little fantasy, of him taking me on the hood of my car and had to fight the smile on my face.
I should not be thinking of that now. Focus.
Then I looked to my right and saw Kasey Kahne beside me, in his black number 95 Camaro. Holy crap. What was he doing back here with me? Shouldn’t he have been up front with the superstars? How bizarrely surreal.
And then I looked over to my left and saw Ryan Blaney, in his red and white 12 Ford Fusion.
Holy shit.
Only a year ago, I’d had some pretty hot and heavy fantasies about that man, because hell, he oozed sex. And now I was racing beside him. I felt my face heat, just thinking of them, and wished someone would lobotomize me so I could concentrate better on the race.
But now, mostly, when I thought of those fantasies, I realized that real life, with Locke, was a million times better. Last night had been phenomenally hot. Perfect. No fantasy with Ryan or any other driver could compare.
My heart pounded as I thought of Locke, not quite being drowned out by the roar of powerful machines. Damn Locke. Because he’d psyched me out about it, I could feel this morning’s bacon gurgling around in my stomach. In the simulator, I’d raced on full stomachs and never had a problem. So what if the real thing was a thousand times more intense and millions of people around the country were watching me right now? Big deal.
Do not throw up, I reminded myself again.
I gave the gas a little goose, revving the Fusion a little as I held the brake down. I felt the machine under me shudder with the need to move, to be uncaged. It was as ready as I was. For now, we were one.
I sucked in air as Brody came over my radio. “How you doing?”
My gloves tightened on the steering wheel. I affected calm. “Oh, you know. Just going for a ride.”
A little laughter. “Wooo, girl. Get it.”
I smiled. I knew that voice. “Hey, Daddy,” I said. “You out there?”
His flight in from Phoenix had been delayed, so I hadn’t been able to see him before I suited up. “Yep. You’re looking good. Black’s your color. Take it easy. Lots gonna happen in this here race. Keep your head about you.”
“Don’t I always?”
Brody came on after that, probably thinking, Don’t you never? “Hey. Would you listen to us for once? Be careful. Don’t got to be the lead car for this one.”
Ugh. Brody. Was he going to drive the car for me too? I rolled my eyes. “But you know me. I don’t like looking at people’s asses.”
“Hey. I’m your pit crew chief for a reason.”
“Yeah, don’t make me regret that choice. If you’re going to tell me how to drive you might as well be sitting here in my lap,” I muttered. “This is my race.”
“Pardon me if I don’t want to see your pretty ass splattered all over the asphalt.”
“Hey, enough,” my dad said. “I can’t believe it. You two are seriously bickering during the Daytona qualifier? Think you might want to focus on something else? Like the race?”
“I will,” I insisted. “Just get Brody off my back.”
“Fine,” Brody muttered. “Just don’t get cocky. You’re shit when you get cocky.”
I didn’t think that was possible here, what with Kasey Kahne and Ryan Blaney right beside me, but whatever.
I pulled my gaze off Kasey, since he was staring straight ahead, ready. I figured I should do the same thing. I settled back in my seat, finding a comfortable place, and concentrated on the road ahead.
“Hey, James. You’ve got this,” another voice piped into my ear, low, controlled, and so sexy that it pulled chords in me, right down to my lower abdomen. Locke. My heart skipped. “I’ll see you at the checkered flag.”
I smiled. “See you then.”
I patted the steering wheel. She was ready. I was ready. We were as ready as we were going to get. Let’s get this wagon train a-movin’.
The pace car started, and all forty cars began to roll out. I was in the middle-back of the pack, not ideal, but decent for a rookie. Flanked by powerful machines, I rounded the first curve, following the pack. Then, when we reached the end of the first lap, the pace car trailed away, the engines roared around me, so loud that it felt like thunder rumbling through my body.
And we were off.
This is nothing, I told myself as we raced, and I felt powerful in that notion. A walk in the park.
I forced myself not to think about Kasey and Ryan, right beside me, and all the other names I’d probably w
ant to get autographs from later. I surged ahead, those nerves melting away as it was just me and the asphalt under the tires.
I passed a car, and then another, swerving in an S fashion that probably wasn’t too smart, considering we were on a straightaway and my speedometer said I was pushing one-ninety. “Watch it, watch it…” Brody shouted in my ear.
“This ain’t your race, bro,” I mumbled under my breath. “And I’m no pussy.”
Still, with him spitting in my ear, it made me second-guess myself. Ryan went ahead, and I attempted to follow but got blocked out. I lost ground, another car surging its way around me from the inside.
Shit.
Kasey was blocking me in. Deliberately. I made the decision right then that I would not be asking for his autograph. I might even knee him in the groin if I had the chance.
And screw Brody. I wasn’t one to hang in anyone’s draft, safe or not.
I’d had a red car, some rookie, in my rearview mirror since the race began, and the scenery was beginning to bore me. That rookie was playing it safe, but I wasn’t one to do that. I needed to shake things up.
I scrambled to find another in. Leaning forward, I found an opening and made my move, skirting around Kasey’s car. He slid up around me, but I blocked him out, my left-rear bumper grazing his right-front bumper. Little love tap, just enough to tell him I meant business.
Victory! I laughed out loud. Brody came over the waves. “That was reckless.”
“I didn’t wreck anything,” I said, still excited as my dad broke in and warned me of a caution flag.
“Caution flag’s out,” Daddy said. “Watch your inside. Come on in for a pit.”
But I was just getting my momentum, feeling comfortable in this race. Maybe I could ride with the big boys, after all. “I’m good, Daddy. My tires are good. I feel good. I’ll just ride it out.”
“Emma…” It was a warning tone. My father only got like that when he meant business, and I knew better not to cross him when he used that voice.
