Acres, Natalie - Pole Position [Country Roads 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Natalie Acres

  Brant looked down at the floor. “I stopped by her high school when I visited my cousin in San Diego. I wanted to make sure she looked okay, like she was happy.”

  “And you never told me?”

  Brant kept his head bowed. “I know it was wrong. If anyone would’ve spotted me there someone would’ve freaked, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to see her smile. I wanted to be absolutely certain she was happy.”

  “I just can’t believe you never mentioned it,” Colt said, feeling betrayed. “Did she?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Did she look happy?”

  “Yeah, Colt. She did. I think the Sterlings gave her a really good life.”

  Colt took a deep breath. “Wonder if she’ll be glad to see us?”

  “I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Brant said, stalking the front door.

  “You got that right!” Colt exclaimed. “Load up the truck. Let’s go see our Princess.”

  * * * *

  Downtown Bristol was hopping all afternoon. Race fans gathered in every bar, on every corner, and in many of the eating establishments. The restaurants were packed, so Colt and Brant made their way to a little bar on State Street after they’d walked around visiting various vendors.

  After they stood in line, they were finally permitted entry, and it didn’t take them long to figure out why there was such a full house at this particular pub. Wall-to-wall people were whooping and hollering something fierce. Colt stretched his neck and said, “Something’s going on up at the front.”

  Nudging through the layers of people, Brant led the way toward the commotion. “Look at that!”

  Several blondes were dancing on the bar. One, in particular, caught Colt’s attention right off the bat. “Good God. What do they feed these girls in this part of Tennessee?”

  With cut-off denim shorts and plaid halter tops tied in the front, the four gals dancing for the crowd were obviously putting on a show for free, but Colt wondered why they didn’t charge. With bodies like theirs, they could’ve easily danced their way into a whole bunch of money. His gaze worked over the bodies flaunted and held on one in particular.

  She was shorter than the rest and possessed a body that wouldn’t quit. Her slender neck pushed up small breasts high enough for show and her tiny waist made a man’s hand itch to place his burning fingers there.

  The woman shook her apple-shaped bottom. Her shorts were high enough to reveal the contour of what was scantly covered by the V-shaped front. For some reason, Colt couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.

  “We came to the right place!” Brant exclaimed, slapping his money on the bar. One of the gals pranced over his arm, shot him a smile and kept her hips working, which earned her all sorts of praise.

  “What’ll it be?” the bartender hollered over the music and chatter.

  “Whatever you got on tap,” Colt replied. Brant was too mesmerized to speak.

  “We’ve got twenty beers on the hose,” the guy informed them, thinking he was cute.

  “Surprise me,” Colt said, turning his back.

  When the bartender set two dark beers in front of them, Colt said, “So what is this place? Something like Coyotes?”

  The bartender laughed and shook his head. “No. Don’t you read the signs, boy? These girls are drivers.”

  “Ah,” Colt said, immediately choking on his first sip of beer.

  “You know, stock car drivers.”

  Colt gulped with the additional clarification. Brant went pale. Immediately, their eyes scanned the women dancing above them. It didn’t take them but a minute to find which one almost belonged to them.

  * * * *

  “You can’t just walk up there and yank her off the bar,” Brant told him as soon as they sat down.

  “Wanna bet?” Colt said, nursing his beer. He was brewing, and Brant was wasting his breath.

  “You’ll scare her to death. Besides, I guarantee you she has her people here.”

  “What do you mean?” Colt questioned him.

  “She’s probably got an entourage of publicists, managers, and a slew of folks following her around day and night. She’s the hottest rookie driver they’ve ever had in stock car racing. She ain’t here alone, Colt.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Colt grumbled, wondering why he was dealing with such a distorted bunch of emotions.

  They watched the girls parade up and down the bar, and the longer Colt stared at the woman he now knew must be Princess, the madder he became. “I’m sure she’s got a boyfriend somewhere in this crowd.” And that fact enraged him a little bit more.

  “No, what I mean is that she’s supposed to be one of the best on the track today. She’s worth a whole lot of money to someone. If we go up there and yank her off her pedestal, someone will be around to break our jaws.”

  “I don’t care,” Colt said, his eyes following her when the girls jumped off the bar to take what he assumed was probably just a short break. “If she gets back up there, you’ll see how quickly an angel falls from grace.”

  Brant shook his head. “You’re acting like her boyfriend instead of the man who saved her from the clutches of homelessness.”

  Colt grunted. “That’s the most ridiculous damn thing I’ve ever heard of in my life.”

  “Then quit pouting. I, for one, will enjoy the show if those female drivers decide to do a little number again.”

  Colt watched the crowd. He wondered if her father knew she was up there marching around like a hooker. He shifted in his seat. “And as a friendly reminder, we did what anyone else would’ve done in our shoes. We discussed this all those years ago. Now, you’re sitting there acting like I’m some kind of pervert.”

  “What’s really eating at you?”

  “You wanna know the truth?”

  “I asked, didn’t I?”

  “I walked in this place, spotted a bunch of hot chicks, picked one out, and was already lusting after her in my blasted head.”

  “Uh-oh,” Brant said. “That is a problem.”

  “Yep. You get four guesses which one caught my eye, and the first three don’t count.”

  Brant finished off his first beer and stood. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Just sit there and chill. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  A minute passed and Brant didn’t return. A few minutes more, and Colt was ready to hit the door and get some fresh air. There was something wrong with him. That’s all there was to it. He couldn’t have looked at Princess as anything more than that little girl who won his heart when she invited him to a tea party. Could he?

  Chapter Eight

  Princess tried to steady her shattering nerves. She looked in the bathroom mirror and attempted to fix her hair. Her hands were shaking so violently that she immediately turned on the faucet and washed them in hopes no one would notice how uneasy she’d become.

  “Hey, girl.” Catherine Belton, another rookie driver, came in the restroom about the time she reached for a hand towel. “You okay, honey? You don’t look so good.”

  “I’m fine,” Princess assured her, checking out her makeup again.

  “Did you see those two cowboys who came in during that last song?”

  “I saw them,” Princess replied.

  Catherine arched her brows. “I say we get a little frisky on those fellas. What’d you say?”

  “No,” Princess replied abruptly. “I know them.”

  “Are you serious? How about you do a friend a favor and introduce me to the one who looks like a rocker. Good God, I could do maddening things with that man’s hair.”

  Princess noticed how red her cheeks became when Catherine implied she’d take Brant to bed. Princess had thought about that a lot since she’d became a woman, and if anyone tangled their fingers through Brant’s hair, it would be her!

  “I haven’t seen them in a long time. They’re in their thirties, and if I had to guess, they’re both married.”

  “Didn’t see a ring on either one of
their hands,” Catherine reported. “And I gotta tell you, the way that tall cowboy looked at you, I don’t think he’s the marrying type, sweetie. His eyes were glued to your ass when you turned around and shook it for the crowd.”

  Princess blushed again. This time anger wasn’t the reason she saw the pink in her cheeks when she studied her reflection. She was blushing for a better cause. “You think he was looking at me?”

  Catherine fluffed her hair. “Think, hell. That man was lusting after your cute butt.”

  “He probably doesn’t remember me, then.” If he did, he surely wouldn’t have been staring at her bottom. She immediately thought of the kind men who’d pulled her away from those cold Kentucky mountains, and her heart swelled with the love she’d always felt for them.

  “How long has it been since you last saw him?”

  She shrugged and fought to restrain the tears threatening to dampen her face. She knew the day, time, and place when she last saw Colt and Brant. “I was a kid.”

  “Well you aren’t a kid now. Get out there and rope in a cowboy, lady. If you leave one of them on the bar tonight, I swear I’ll take them both home with me.”

  Princess balked at that. Catherine always picked up guys in strange towns. She had one of the nicest and most frequented RVs on the lot. She’d also earned herself quite the reputation. Princess was not about to let Colt or Brant end up paying a visit to Catherine’s mattress.

  Oh no, if a headboard was going to bang tonight in that Bristol infield, she fully planned to be the inspiration behind the wood.

  * * * *

  The music started again and the DJ said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we promised you a rocking night here at Bristol Streets. We believe in keeping our promises! Let’s introduce the ladies who will be behind the wheel tomorrow. What’d you say we put our hands together and welcome Bethany Brooks!”

  The crowd clapped, a few men hollered, and Miss Brooks sashayed across the bar after a few men hoisted her up and helped her to her feet. Dressed in the same provocative attire, Bethany shot Colt a quick glance. His stomach rolled as he watched the woman shake hands and sign autographs. The men looked as if they couldn’t wait to grope her. The DJ told a little bit about her and Bethany smiled as cameras flashed around her.

  Brant returned with a frosted beer mug. “Looks like Princess will be properly introduced in a minute. Maybe after you see her again, you won’t sit there like a sour toad on a log.”

  “I doubt that,” he grumbled, unsure if he could sit still while Princess proudly displayed her assets for any man to see.

  Two more drivers were introduced. Naturally, they’d saved the best for last. Finally, the DJ said, “And ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together and welcome the sweetheart of racing—Princesssssss Sterlingggggg!”

  The crowd went wild. Unlike the three girls who’d gone before her, Princess was practically thrown into midair by a team of guys who lifted her to the bar with their hands pretty much everywhere.

  “This kind of thing should be outlawed. Stock car drivers shouldn’t be allowed to run around flashing their cheeks. They ought to have on their uniforms or whatever the hell it is that they wear.”

  “Race suits,” Brant said, his gaze working over the girls.

  Colt snarled. “My point is they shouldn’t be in a man’s sport acting like sex symbols.”

  “And I think they’re fireproof,” Brant added.

  Colt shook his head. “Do you not have a problem with this?”

  “Truth is, no. I think she looks damn fine. I’m sorry you can’t relax and enjoy yourself. You’d be having a good time if anyone else was up there dancing.”

  “Of course I would. But ‘anyone’ isn’t up there. Princess is!”

  Princess took a saucy stroll down that long wooden slab. She worked her walk about as well as any woman, acting as if she were born to wear spike heels and really nothing more. Considering the fact the clothes she wore did little to deter a man’s imagination, let alone his fantasies, maybe that was her purpose now.

  Colt settled in his chair, and he might have stayed there if she hadn’t stalled in front of this long, thick, metallic-looking pole. And that’s when his heart stopped in the middle of its next beat.

  Shooting the crowd a cocksure smile, she hopped on the shiny shaft and those short, slender legs took a pole position guaranteed to make a few men stand up in their breeches and pay attention.

  “Holy hell,” Brant said. “Wow. Who would’ve thought the Princess we once knew would end up and be able to move around like that!”

  “Put your dang tongue back in your mouth,” Colt said, watching as she leaned all the way back. She took a butterfly’s position, opened and closed her legs, and rode that pole like she hoped to get something out of it.

  “Good Lord, if she can do that to a piece of furniture, what can she do to a man who bucks back?”

  “I don’t want to think about it,” Colt said, tipping his cowboy hat and hiding under the brim.

  “That ain’t gonna solve your problem,” Brant told him. “I can already see where this is heading and trust me, that’s not a good idea either.”

  When Colt looked up, Princess lost her shoes. She planted her bare feet on the pole and twirled around the width of the long shaft, sliding up and down until Colt was hot.

  He was fired up in a way he’d never been, and he was also primed and ready to shoot off something substantial if the right girl allowed him. Princess struck a chord in him that had never been ignited. He’d never seen a woman who’d had such an effect on him, and he didn’t think he ever would again.

  Before he realized he’d stood, he strolled toward the bar. His hand propelled forward and without thinking, because he seldom thought in situations such as this, he grabbed Princess by the hand and gave her a gentle tug. A startled expression washed over her face, but before she protested aloud, he gave her a true yank and caught her in his arms.

  Chapter Nine

  “I wondered how long it would take for you to come up and say hello,” she said gleefully, wrapping her slender arm around his neck. “Aren’t you ever going to age, cowboy?”

  He smiled at that. “You’re still as charming as the day I met you.”

  “I’m a lot of things now that I wasn’t then,” she teased.

  His cock immediately twitched and he wondered if she already suspected he was in awe of her.

  Her aqua-blue eyes pierced through his as he sheltered her from the crowd. “You saw me and didn’t come over to say hello?” he asked, stalking the table where he’d left Brant.

  “Of course I saw you,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek. “How ya been, Colt? I’ve missed you.” She dragged out the word “missed,” and the way she looked at him was truly a good man’s undoing. If he’d had decent intentions—and he didn’t—they would’ve been shot to hell in a sweet Southern minute.

  “I’m good,” he snapped, still pissed over her behavior regardless of the many ways she softened him. “You?”

  She grinned and his heart melted much the same way it used to when she was a little girl. “I’ve been doing all right, I guess. After Dad died, I had a hard time…adjusting, I guess you would say. But things are slowly coming around. I get by.”

  A woman who looked like Princess did a little more than just survive. “Your father died?”

  “My adoptive father.”

  “Yes, I remember,” he said, realizing he sounded a bit harsh.

  “He was killed in a stock car. Imagine that, huh? Don’t you follow racing?”

  “He does now,” Brant said, rushing them. “Look at you, kid. You’re all grown up.”

  Somehow, Brant kept his eyes from going on tour. Unfortunately, Colt hadn’t stopped staring. Lucky for him, he was able to keep reminding himself of the little girl she’d once been. Otherwise, he might have taken more than her body in his arms. He might have stolen away with her lips soon thereafter.

  Thank God he remembered. Still, the memori
es were rapidly fading.

  Colt released her and she immediately gave Brant a hug. Her thin limbs wrapped around his neck and she pressed her chest to his, squeezing him. Then, she turned around with open arms ready for Colt again. “Let me get a hold of you!”

  She whipped her little body around him and held him to her. “I swear if I’d known how good-looking you two would be when you grew up, I would’ve fought that judge myself.”

  “You wouldn’t have won,” Brant told her, a total look of disgust washing over him.

  “Well, yeah, I know all about that now,” Princess said. “Back then, I had a problem with it. I used to cry myself to sleep until one day my mother came in and sat down and explained everything.” A beat later she added, “It must’ve been really difficult for the two of you.”

  “It was,” Brant replied. “We made plans, of course. We moved in together in hopes of projecting the right kind of image for the judge and those in child services, in the event the judge didn’t find appropriate parents for you. We wanted to keep you, but we were young. We weren’t appropriate parents for a little girl. You know that, right?”

  Her head tilted to the side and she said, “I always knew that. You two were the only people I’d ever known who tried to give me a chance. I wasn’t much to look at back then, a scrawny kid with a dirty face, and somehow, you saw potential and well, look at me now.”

  “Yeah,” Brant said. “You still get a little grease on your face. I read the sports page on the Internet, and you’ve been known to get your hands dirty.”

  “Yesterday it was mud and filth and today, oil and smoke.” She sighed and her mouth twisted around like she further pondered what might have happened all those years ago. “So are the two of you still together?”

  “Still live right there in Morristown,” Brant replied.

  “That’s great!” she exclaimed. “I know it must’ve been so difficult on you coming out like you did in order to get a judge to award you custody.”