Throttle (Jack 'Em Up #3)

by Shauna Allen

  I rushed forward and grabbed her into a hug. “Hi, Hopey.”

  She kept her arm around my waist as I drew back to beckon the boys up the steps. “Hope, this is my friend, Trace, and his son, Ryder. Guys, this is my baby sister, Hope.”

  My stomach clenched as I waited for their response. I’d only brought one other guy home and he’d ended up being a royal prick. What would Hope think?

  More importantly, what would Trace and Ryder’s genuine reactions be to my disabled sister?

  “Hello.” Trace’s deep voice was friendly, his smile sincere.

  “Hi. Are you my sister’s boyfriend?”

  Trace’s smile faltered, but it was so slight, I was the only one to notice. “Uh . . .”

  “No, Hope. We’re friends. I work at Ryder’s school,” I added, attempting a diversion.

  Ryder studied Hope for a long moment, obviously working out that she was different with her thick-tongued lisp and big, blue, almond-shaped eyes that were even bigger behind her glasses. I ran a hand through her long, honey-colored hair, silently showing it was all okay. Sweet Hope never seemed to have a clue about the mean things people could say, always seeing the best in everyone.

  She broke from my grasp and knelt down in front of Ryder, reaching for the action figure in his hand. “Is that Spiderman?”

  Ryder glanced down, then after a moment, offered it to her. “No. It’s Daredevil. He’s blind but he’s super-fast and strong and he can hear real good.”

  Hope took the toy and stood, offering him her hand. “Wanna see my room? I don’t have a Daredevil but I have unicorns. And Minions.”

  Ryder gripped her hand and they walked inside like old friends. Trace and I glanced at each other. That went better than expected.

  I extended my hand. “Ready to meet my mom?”

  His grip was warm and reassuring as he linked our fingers. “Absolutely.”

  As we entered, the smells of Mexican food assailed us, making my mouth water. I tugged Trace toward the kitchen, where we found my mother bent over the sink in the middle of a coughing fit.

  “Mom.”

  She sucked in a breath and spun with a tight smile. “Honey. I didn’t hear you come in.” Her eyes flicked to Trace. “Hello.”

  “Ma’am.” He strode over and offered his hand. “Tori’s friend, Trace Berringer. My son, Ryder, is around here somewhere with your other daughter.”

  My mother appeared sufficiently awestruck, probably how I looked most of the time, as she gazed up at him and placed her hand in his. “Caroline Waters. Nice to meet you.” Her eyes darted to mine as he walked away and I’d swear her mouth was slack. Yeah. I knew the feeling.

  “What’s for lunch, Mom?”

  “Oh. Uh, I made beef enchiladas with Spanish rice and beans.”

  “Sounds delicious,” Trace said, his words deep with appreciation. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “No. Not at all. Make yourself comfortable. Tori can get you a drink while I finish up here then we can eat.”

  Trace moved slowly through the kitchen and dining room, stooping to examine my mom’s knickknacks and some old family photos. He smiled up at me when I brought him a glass of lemonade. “This you?”

  I grimaced when I saw where he was pointing . . . one of my more embarrassing school photos. Seventh grade. Braces. Bad hair. Frilly clothes.

  Yeah. That picture.

  “Maybe.” I felt my blush and sipped my own drink.

  He glanced back. “You’re adorable.”

  “Yeah, adorable as a train wreck.”

  He laughed and we moved into the living room, where Ryder and Hope were entertaining themselves with a Minion movie, laughing like they’d known each other all their lives.

  Twenty minutes later, we were all seated around my mom’s refurbished Formica table with secondhand dishes. I stifled my shame. This was me, my life. If Trace wanted to turn up his nose at us, then so be it.

  After a brief grace, my mom served Ryder with a smile and ruffled his hair. They were getting along just as famously as he and Hope. I let myself relax a tad.

  “This is delicious, Ms. Waters,” Trace said after swallowing a hearty bite.

  “Thank you.” My mom actually blushed. “So, Tori tells me you work on cars?”

  I played with my rice, feeling incredibly awkward. This wasn’t bringing a boy home in the traditional sense, but it sure felt like it.

  “I do. I work at Jack ‘Em Up Garage with three of my best buddies. We do regular mechanic work—oil changes, tire rotations, tune-ups, stuff like that—but we also do car and motorcycle restorations.”

  My mom nodded appreciatively and glanced at Hope, subtly signaling for her to wipe her mouth.

  Trace waited until the sauce was gone before turning to my sister. “So, Hope, what grade are you in?”

  My sister’s blue eyes widened as she studied Trace. “I’m a senior. But I’m in special classes. Because I’m special.”

  “I know. Tori told me how special you are. Is it true that she took you as her date to her Homecoming dance?”

  Hope’s grin threatened to split her face. I’d forgotten I told Trace about that. I’d done it to make a statement. To make my sister happy, to make her not feel “different.” In the end though, I’d learned I was the one truly seeking my own acceptance.

  “Yeah,” Hope said. “I got a blue sparkly dress. Wanna see?”

  “Definitely.” Trace smiled at her, but his foot bumped up against mine. When I caught his eye, I knew it was intentional.

  I put my hand on his thigh and squeezed.

  He flinched and I stifled a laugh.

  “How’s . . .” my mom started to ask me something, but was caught up in a coughing fit strong enough to make her face flush red.

  I stood and rubbed her back, concern slicing through me. This wasn’t allergies.

  When she settled down, I crouched next to her. “Did you ever go to the doctor, Mom?”

  She shook her head and dabbed her eyes.

  “Why not?”

  She frowned at me, defiance in her eyes. “How’s work?”

  “Fine. Now, are you going to make an appointment, or do I need to do it for you?”

  “My Daddy takes me to the doctor when I’m sick. It’s not scary,” Ryder supplied helpfully.

  My mother smiled at him, her expression softening. She turned back to me. “Fine. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.” She took in my determined expression. “I promise, okay? Now, can we finish lunch please?”

  I reluctantly agreed and took my seat. Trace’s hand found mine under the table and I held onto him gratefully. My mother’s stubbornness had served her well since Dad left, but I hated that she wouldn’t take care of herself.

  Later, over pineapple upside down cake, my mom asked Trace about his family. I turned toward him, interested. He had told me a lot about his life, but it all felt a bit superficial. Or maybe, I simply couldn’t imagine anyone’s life being so ideal after my own childhood.

  “My dad’s retired from the oil industry, my mom worked in banking. They’re away on a European vacation right now, but I think they’ll be home in a couple weeks. I’ve got two brothers, one sister, and two nephews.”

  “Wow, what a big family,” Mom said. “Sounds lovely.”

  Trace grinned in that dimply way of his. “Well, I don’t think my mom thought so when she had four teenagers, but she coped well.”

  Mom smiled in return, her gaze drifting to Hope, who was huddled over a puzzle with Ryder. “So, are you two . . . serious?” Her eyes pinned Trace and confusing feelings swirled within me. My mom had never outwardly asserted any protectiveness over us where men were concerned. I think she was too busy working and surviving and taking care of Hope’s needs.

  Trace didn’t miss a beat. “We’re taking things slow, ma’am.” His smiling green eyes met mine briefly. “Tori’s career is more important right now, especially since she’s doing su
ch wonderful work with Ry.”

  “Oh?” Mom looked to me. “Ryder is one of your students?”

  “Mmmhmm.” I swallowed a bite of cake.

  The room became awkwardly silent. Trace, bless him, spoke up, his voice pitched low. “Ryder’s never had his mother in his life and it’s been a bit hard on him as he’s gotten older. I’ve done the best I can, but I can’t fix that. I’m so grateful for Tori’s help.”

  Mom beamed at me with pride.

  I stood and began gathering empty plates. “Thanks for lunch, Mom. It was great.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We cleaned up and Trace moseyed with me toward the door when it was time to go. “Come on, Ry, it’s a school night. We’ve gotta go.”

  It nearly took pliers, but Trace managed to drag Ryder from Hope’s side and tugged his whining child to the door. “Goodbye, Ms. Waters. Thank you for having us, lunch was delicious.” He nudged Ryder.

  “Thanks,” he murmured, his pout still strong.

  “You’re welcome. Come back anytime.”

  Trace nodded and took Ryder outside to get him buckled into Betsy.

  “Bye.” I hugged my sister then my mother.

  Mom drew back, still holding me. “I like him.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  “I’m serious. He’s great.”

  I nodded and glanced over my shoulder. Trace was bent over, his arm resting on the roof of my car, talking to Ryder. “He is.”

  “Does it complicate your job to have a relationship with him?”

  “A little,” I admitted. “It’s not against any rules or policies at the school, but I’ve still tried to keep my professional and private life separate. I think it’s best for all of us.”

  “What if things get serious?”

  I shrugged, having wondered and dreamt of the same thing.

  She kissed my cheek. “Follow your heart, Tori. It’s steered you right up until now.”

  Hot, unexpected tears burned behind my lids. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  I stepped off the porch, paused and pivoted back. “Don’t forget you promised to call the doctor.”

  “I know.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Mother.” She smiled sweetly at me and I couldn’t help but see where I’d gotten my tenacity.

  Trace

  Tori’s family was great. Like seriously great. And her mom was an awesome cook. I couldn’t help but wonder what her other sister was like.

  I glanced over at her profile as we drove away and asked.

  Her eyes met mine. “Kendall? Um, well, she’s kinda funky and bohemian but really traditional. If you mixed June Cleaver with a hippie, she’s what you’d get.”

  I smiled as she told me about her sister’s life in L.A. She obviously loved her sister, but I’m pretty sure I caught the undertones of some resentment. Maybe because she’d gotten away to a life of luxury and excitement, while Tori was left behind to fight for her slice of happiness.

  “I hope I get to meet her someday.”

  Tori glanced over from the road, but kept silent.

  “And your mom’s enchiladas rocked my world.”

  “She is great in the kitchen,” Tori agreed. “Too bad I didn’t inherit that from her.”

  “You seriously don’t cook?” She’d told me this, but somehow, I had a hard time believing her.

  “Nope. Other than what I need to survive, I’m hopeless. I say bless the guy who created the microwave.”

  I opened my mouth to retort it was probably a woman who invented the nuker, but my cell phone buzzed in my pocket and interrupted me.

  “Sorry.” I checked my Caller ID and my stomach dropped.

  “You gonna answer that?”

  I glanced at Tori then Ryder, who’d fallen asleep in the backseat. Fuck. “It’s Kristi,” I admitted, my voice quiet and strained.

  “Oh.” Her eyes caught on the phone in my hand again. “Well, maybe you should answer.”

  With a sigh, I accepted the call. “Hello?”

  “Trace.” She seemed surprised I’d actually answered.

  “Yeah.”

  “So, hey, listen . . .” She paused and it sounded like she moved to a different room, silencing the voices and laughter in the background. “I, uh, I’ve gotta go out of town for a while, take care of some business.”

  “Okay.”

  “But,” she continued, attitude coloring her voice, “I expect you to be over yourself when I get back.”

  The fist in my lap was clenched so tight my knuckles were white. I caught Tori in my peripheral vision, her face carefully blank. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  Sigh. “I’ve already got a lawyer. He says I have rights to my kid. Don’t fight this.”

  I said nothing, not trusting myself. We stopped at a red light and I breathed deeply. Suddenly, Tori’s hand rested on my thigh in quiet support as she drove with the other.

  “Okay, well,” Kristi went on as if I’d agreed. “I’ll call you when I get back, okay?”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “Later.”

  Then she was gone. I tossed the phone onto the floorboard, vibrating with fury and hating that Tori had to witness this. My sincerest hope was that Kristi would disappear like she had last time once she had time to decide motherhood wasn’t her gig.

  “You okay?” Tori’s soft voice soothed me like a gentle rain.

  I glanced her way then back out the window. “Yeah.” I paused, squeezing my eyes shut. “No. She’s threatening me with a lawyer if I don’t let her see Ry.”

  “Can she do that?”

  “Sure. I never . . .” I heaved a big breath and Tori pulled into an empty lot and threw the car into park. Glancing back to make sure Ry was still asleep, I sagged into my seat. “I should’ve filed to terminate her parental rights, but I never did. It seemed easier to ignore her. Stupid.”

  She unbuckled her belt and stretched over the console toward me, her eyes intent on mine. “No. Not stupid. Naïve, maybe, but not stupid. You were busy being a father and probably hoping she’d step up and do her part.”

  I peered at her. “I guess.”

  “I know.” Her lips met mine in a quiet kiss of support. She drew back and cupped my jaw. “I know,” she repeated. “Even if you don’t.”

  I snuck in another kiss before we drove on. Tori kept her right hand on my thigh, high enough to make me squirm.

  Back at her complex, she pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine, leaving us in silence except for the hum of the crickets and Ry’s soft breathing.

  “Wanna come inside?” she asked, her voice gentle. “We could watch some brainless TV and I’ll make you guys dinner.”

  I wanted to leave as much as I wanted to stay. Then her words sunk in and I paused. “Wait. I thought you didn’t cook.”

  Her smirk was the cutest thing I’d seen all day. Other than her ass in those pants. “I didn’t say it’d be a five star meal. How about a frozen pizza? Or I can pick up some to-go.”

  I waffled.

  Ultimately, I was not ready for this day to end.

  “Sure. Pizza’s great.”

  Her relieved smile solidified my decision. I unsnapped Ryder and he clung to me like a sleepy baby monkey as I followed her to the front door. His warmth spread over my chest and his head rested heavily on my shoulder.

  As we stepped inside her apartment, he shifted his head to look around. “Hey, Buddy,” I murmured, rubbing his back. “Miss Tori invited us for pizza. Sound good?”

  Now he was awake. “Now?”

  “Well, when it’s dinner time.” I let him slide down my body to stand.

  “Is Hope coming over, too?”

  Tori tucked her purse away and crouched down. “No, she’s at home with our mom. You like Hope?”

  Ry nodded. “She’s nice. And she has lots of minions.”

  “She does.” Tori ruffled his dark hair and stood to smil
e at me. “So, what do you guys wanna do? I’ve got Netflix or I’m pretty sure I’ve got some games around here somewhere.”

  “You got a PlayStation?” Ryder asked, tugging her toward the living room.

  “Uh, sorry, I sure don’t.” She halted his progress and led him back to her small dining room table. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.” As she padded down the hallway toward what I assumed was her bedroom, she called over her shoulder, “Make yourselves comfortable. There’re drinks in the fridge.”

  I poured Ry some apple juice and grabbed a soda then settled into the chair across the table to wait.

  She reappeared a couple of minutes later clad in charcoal gray yoga pants, a baseball style T-shirt, and bare feet. She’d brushed out her hair and scrubbed off her makeup.

  She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  I slapped my mouth shut as she rifled around her storage closet and came up with a box of Uno cards. “This work?”

  Ry seemed less than thrilled, but went along with it. Tori patiently explained the rules to him, demonstrating the colors and numbers so he’d get the idea.

  As we began to play, my kid’s competitive streak reared its ugly head. “Uno!” he called, slapping down a red four.

  I added my blue four to the pile.

  Tori peered at me, mischief in her stormy eyes. Without looking away, she placed her card. “Sorry, Ryder. Draw four and the color is yellow.”

  Ry appeared downright shocked that he’d been bested. “What? No fair!”

  She faced him, her head tilted in that serious but sweet way I’d seen my own mother do a thousand times. “What’s not fair about it? We’re all following the rules here, kid. Now draw four.”

  “But I have Uno,” he whined.

  I opened my mouth to correct him or apologize, but Tori shook her head. “You had Uno, Ryder, there’s a difference. Now draw your cards and keep playing, or you can forfeit and me and your daddy can finish the game without you. The choice is yours.”

  Ryder aimed his puppy eyes at me. I shrugged, indicating I wouldn’t go against her.

  With a sigh, he drew the cards and plunked down a yellow zero.

  We continued to play without incident and Ryder won anyway, thrilling him.