Racked and Stacked

by Lorelei James

  He chuckled. “Can we talk about this later? There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

  She got a very suspicious look on her face. “I will warn you that my mood is a teeny bit sour.”

  “This is gonna sweeten your disposition a whole bunch.”

  “You’re welcome to try and butter me up. But sex is off the table, as I am in a dick-punching, not a dick-munching mood.”

  The stuff that came out of his woman’s mouth bordered on unreal sometimes, but it always made him grin. “Your future as a solo driver is out of your control until the therapist weighs in with your limitations—if you even have any.”

  She tapped her fingers on the table. “And? This ain’t news.”

  “And this plan is based on your original suggestion and I just ran with it.” There’d been more to it than that, could be a bigger payoff down the line, but all she needed to know now was the general outline.

  “Ran where?”

  “To Tito. I’ve agreed to go to work for him.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, isn’t that great?”

  “What will you be doin’ for him?”

  “He initially wanted me to broker better deals on fuel and tires. But I told him the only thing I’m interested in is driving. With you. He’s considered expanding into some long-haul routes as a perk to a select few customers, but he wouldn’t commit to researching the idea until he had drivers he could trust.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’ve been dealing with Tito, my boss, behind my back, for how long?”

  “You’re makin’ it sound sinister, Riss. I started talkin’ to him regularly because he tried to hire me after Omaha and I kept putting him off.”

  Her mouth fell open. “What? Why didn’t I know any of this?”

  Why didn’t she look happy? “He asked me not to discuss personnel matters.”

  “Personnel matters? But I’m personnel a helluva lot more than you are!”

  “I know. And then when we ironed out the particulars, I didn’t want to jinx anything before it was finalized.”

  “Jinx what? Ike. You’re talkin’ in riddles. Spit it out.”

  “You and I will be a drivin’ team. While you’re in PT I’ll bear the brunt of the actual drivin’ as you navigate. After you’re cleared—think positive, baby—then we’ll have a more traditional partnership where we share the time behind the wheel. But the income is split fifty-fifty.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Why would I kid about something like this?”

  “Because you . . .” Riss seemed too mad to speak. She stood and paced to the door to the garage and back. “Lemme get this straight. My boss offered you a job. Did he offer you my job?”

  “At first, but I told him I wasn’t interested.”

  “How goddamned generous of you!”

  “Maybe it was since I pitched the team option, it kept you from losing your job.”

  “Anything else you wanna confess? Have you weaseled your way into workin’ at my brother’s garage too?”

  “Weaseled my way in? What the fuck, Riss?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Why? You already know that Lloyd is teaching me some basic mechanics I should’ve already known.”

  “And you’re also boxing with Lonnie. So is my brother Lou teaching you how to mix the perfect whiskey soda?”

  He held up both of his hands. “Where is this comin’ from?”

  “From you! When I told you that you needed to make some changes in your life, I didn’t mean for you to entrench yourself in all aspects of my life and livelihood.” She stopped pacing long enough to glare at him. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. If this is what happens when people date, then I want to br—”

  “Don’t you say it, woman.” Ike got right in her face. “Take a deep goddamned breath and think about what you’re accusing me of.”

  “I don’t have to accuse you; you’ve already admitted that you went behind my back to my boss. You’ve done other sneaky-ass things too.”

  Now he was getting pissed. “Our boss came to me. But I’ll play. Name one other thing.”

  “I can name several. I’ve looked the other way as you’ve tried to win over my brothers. And if I hadn’t put my foot down, you’d be in the room with me at my therapy appointments.”

  “So I’m an asshole because I care enough about you to want to get to know your family and make sure your recovery is on track?”

  But Riss had started down this path and, as usual, she’d veer off it whenever it suited her, even if it led to a dead end or sent them careening over a cliff. She gestured wildly to the space around them. “I’m here all the time. We’ve spent exactly one night at my place. One. So were you planning on packing up my shit and moving it here? Without asking me? Will I come home to find a For Sale sign in my front yard?”

  He snorted. “Get real.”

  “Should I ask if you’ve already brokered a deal and sold the dump truck to Holt? Maybe I have zero dating experience, but I know none of this shit is normal.”

  “Babe. Neither of us knows normal.”

  “I hate that you promised you’d stop bossing me around and yet here we are.”

  “I have stopped doin’ that!”

  “Then what is this?”

  Ike forced himself to hold her gaze as he said, “Love.”

  Her shocked and somewhat angry expression didn’t inspire his confidence. “It doesn’t feel like love. It feels like control.”

  Fuck, that stung. But he pushed on. “And you have so much experience with love and relationships to know that?”

  “No, but I do have experience with people trying to control me.”

  That haughty little shake of her mean red curls was the last fucking straw.

  “You know what, Riss? You’re right. I volunteered to bring you into my home and care for you after your accident because I saw a chance to bring you to heel. It had nothin’ to do with my concern that your needs weren’t bein’ met. So I forced you away from your family and refused to grant them access to you. And while you were here and incapacitated, I demanded you solve my career crises. And when I figured out you couldn’t, well then, I got super bossy with you, knowing you’d leave just as soon as you could.

  “But that was just another one of my tricks. See, I needed you to feel useful and not controlled so I made up some personal shit about my recent struggles. Then to really convince you of my sincerity, I walked away from a business I owned and took a part-time job that paid slightly above minimum wage. And to further mess with you, I insisted we start dating, knowing I could seduce you and the sex between us would be addictive. Your overwhelming lust for me would overtake your self-control, your common sense and your life. I let you pick a fight with me, so I had to show up where you work and grovel. While I was there I weaseled my way into your boss’s good graces so he’d see how awesome I am and hear me brag that I’m a much better driver than you, so I could run your workin’ hours too. Even your income would be dependent on me. Oh, and then I secretly became buddies with your brothers because I knew I could get them to take my side over yours, and I told my sisters I was done with them because it’d take every bit of my effort to control you, every day, for the rest of your life.”

  He paused to take a breath. “Does that sound about right?”

  Riss stared at him in absolute shock.

  “Shoot. I forgot the part where I planned to put my house on the market. So when I move into your trailer, we’re working together and living together and you can’t ever escape me and my desperate need to control you.”

  She opened her mouth, but Ike held up his hand.

  “Oh no, sweetheart, I ain’t done. The best part of this ultimate manipulation is where I confess that I’m madly fucking in love with you and I can�
��t imagine a single day in my life without you in it. Not a single. Fucking. Day.”

  She made a wounded noise and clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes started to swim with tears.

  “Don’t. You barely shed a tear when you were injured.”

  “Ike.”

  “I suspected you were great at self-sabotage, Riss. But I’d hoped I was mistaken.” He grabbed his keys off the hook by the door, settled his hat on his head and walked away without looking back.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  You, Larissa Thorpe, are the biggest fucking tool on the planet.

  Her fears, her accusations, had all sounded perfectly legitimate in her head before she started tossing them at him out loud.

  Ike’s rebuttal just proved how little she’d thought things through.

  Like that’s a surprise.

  She should’ve heeded her dad’s lifelong warning—Girl, engage your brain before your mouth—because it’d always been her biggest downfall.

  She’d laughed it off. Tried to convince herself and everyone else it was part of her charm. Part of being real.

  Well, she’d really fucked up this time.

  How could she have acted that way to Ike? The only man who truly “got” her. The only man she’d let get close enough to her to see through her bullshit.

  And what had she given the only man who’d been fool enough to fall in love with her?

  Attitude.

  Accusations.

  An excuse to leave.

  Instead of showing gratitude or even joy that the man who absolutely sucked at list making had mapped out a plan for their future . . . she’d given in to her fears.

  Even when she knew she loved him.

  She literally smacked herself in the head, hating that it didn’t hurt enough. And it sure as fuck didn’t put her brain back on track.

  How could she make this right?

  Horror filled her at the thought that she couldn’t do anything to fix this. Her pride at never falling into a relationship trap left her with zero skills on how to begin to repair what she’d broken.

  Think, Riss.

  Ask for help.

  No. She had to figure this out on her own.

  There’s the problem. You admit you don’t have the knowledge to fix this, but instead of asking for help from someone who’s been in this situation before, you’re just going to let the best thing that’s ever happened to you slip away?

  Who’s apathetic now?

  Not me. Not ever again.

  Riss picked up her phone and scrolled through her contact list. Her first thought was to call Jade. But she immediately dismissed that idea. Jade was a newlywed—now a pregnant newlywed—who’d never fucked up with Tobin. Her skill set was likely as unused as Riss’s.

  Her brothers were also zero for zero for zero on the serious-relationship front.

  And almost as if the universe was giving her a sign, the scroll bar highlighted AUNT BERNICE.

  Riss didn’t hesitate. She hit call.

  Luckily, Bernice answered on the third ring.

  “What do you need that has you calling me at two in the afternoon?”

  “Your help, your advice, your expertise because I fucked up big-time and I don’t know what to do next. It’s an emergency, Aunt B, like I- might’ve-ruined-my-life kind of emergency.”

  “Take a deep breath, girl, and calm down. Where are you?”

  “At Ike’s.”

  “All right. Gimme a minute to close up the shop and I’ll be right over.”

  “No. That’s fine. I’ll come to you.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  It was beyond pathetic that Ike didn’t know where to go after he’d dramatically stormed out.

  He’d never been the slamming-doors, running-from-his-problems type.

  Maybe subconsciously he’d done what Riss would—gotten pissed and taken off—just to keep her from doing the same.

  But he wasn’t in the wrong. Riss had figured that out, or he hoped she had, but he still needed time to cool off before he said something he’d regret.

  Ike had driven around for almost half an hour before ending up in Buckeye Joe’s empty parking lot. Technically they didn’t open until four, but he recognized Sherry Gilchrist’s Jeep, and she’d let him in early—if only for the chance to be the first one to get the gossip on his morose state.

  The front door wasn’t locked.

  Sherry was singing along to the jukebox as she stocked ice. When she saw Ike ambling toward her, she released a little shriek.

  “Good lord, Ike Palmer. You surprised me. What in the devil are you doin’ here?”

  “Need a place to think and drink. You mind if I just hang out for a bit?”

  “No, sugar, that’s fine. You need me to call anyone so you’re not thinkin’ and drinkin’ alone?”

  “Nope.”

  “You need a beer? Or something stronger?”

  “Beer is fine. PBR.”

  She raised both of her eyebrows but didn’t comment. She cracked the top off two bottles and tossed out bar napkins before placing the bottles in front of him. “I’ve gotta do inventory in the back. You need another, just help yourself.”

  “Thanks, Sherry.”

  He took a long pull off the bottle, swallowed and sighed. Sometimes, there just wasn’t anything better than an icy cold beer. Maybe he should drink a dozen of these and dull the edges a little.

  In his haste to leave, he’d forgotten his coat and his phone. His phone wasn’t a concern since he didn’t want to talk to Riss anyway. But he’d shoved his wallet in his coat pocket, which meant he didn’t even have a couple of bucks to pay for this cheap beer.

  Christ. His life at this moment could be the beginning of a country song lamenting the fight with his woman, bein’ down on his luck with no money and literally out in the cold with nothing but his pickup truck.

  That thought caused him to crack a smile. Maybe he’d call his longtime buddy Devin McClain, country superstar, and share his tale of woe. Someone should benefit from it.

  But Devin would likely laugh his ass off. As would the rest of their friends if he contacted them for advice on his next move with Riss. While it’d taken his friends some time to get to the happy places in their lives, the fact that they were there now . . . he doubted they’d remember being at this “what the fuck do I do now?” stage with their spouses.

  He couldn’t even call his sisters because he half feared they’d gloat.

  That left his options on who to call limited indeed.

  Tobin was a newlywed.

  Hugh was still sorting out what to do with JSC and Ike knew he wasn’t Hugh’s favorite person at the moment.

  So he felt especially pathetic when he realized that the person he most wanted to bitch about Riss to . . . was Riss herself. The woman had become everything to him—friend, lover, confidant, career counselor, coworker—in such a short time he really didn’t know what to do without her.

  As he debated on how long he’d have to stay away from his own damn house, the bar door was thrown open with the force of a Wyoming windstorm.

  He glanced up as Riss sauntered in.

  Wearing his coat.

  Snow dotted her hair and she shook herself off before she noticed him, sitting at the end of the bar watching her.

  His heart raced when their eyes met. He managed not to grin, or let out a whoop of victory.

  Then her chin went up and she took her time erasing the distance between them.

  When she finally stopped behind his barstool, and he didn’t immediately spin around to face her, she took her time peeling off his coat before she climbed onto the barstool next to his.

  Then the crazy woman grabbed his full beer and downed half of it.

  She sighed. “You look like a smart guy. So
can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “You ever had a friend who is a complete dumb-ass? You know the type. She thinks she knows everything and she opens her damn mouth and starts talking before her brain can catch up and tell her to shut it?”

  Riss paused to down another mouthful of beer.

  “I know this woman . . . Marissa . . . who does that without thinking. Most of the time her idiocy can be overlooked because there’s never any real consequences for her. She says whatever she wants, to whoever she wants, and lets the chips fall where they may because she’s not invested in the outcome. She just moves on.”

  Ike forced himself not to interrupt. To see where she was going with this.

  “I mean, she’s been actin’ this way for so long she doesn’t know any other way to act. If she gets cornered, she comes out swinging. Her mind-set is better to be the first person to get a shot in rather than the last. She’s lived her life so goddamned proud of the fact she doesn’t need anything from anyone. She’s in control. And fuck anyone who tried to take any of that control from her.”

  Riss swung the bottle back and forth like a pendulum, nearly hypnotizing Ike.

  “So you’d think this woman is tough. Strong. The type of take-no-shit woman that most women aspire to be. But what people on the outside don’t know? Because she lets so few people get close to her? Is that she’s absolutely riddled with fear.”

  “Fear of what?”

  “Jesus, too many fucking things to name, to be honest. But she’s a goddamned master at hiding them. She fears that by relying on someone—let’s say a man—she’ll stop bein’ able to take care of herself. And then the man will leave because of her dependence. Or she’s scared her independence will scare men away. She also fears disappointment that she can’t truly rely on anyone except herself. Not even her family is one hundred percent reliable one hundred percent of the time.”

  “This Marissa person doesn’t realize that’s an unrealistic expectation? Being let down is part of life. It’s how you pick yourself up afterward that matters.”