by Shey Stahl
“I can’t believe that asshole gave me Viagra,” I told Spencer.
“Tommy drinks vodka out of a water bottle in the pits most days. Is he really someone you should trust to give you medicine?” Spencer shook his head as I figured out the next morning that Tommy had given me Viagra instead of aspirin. I couldn’t even say I was pissed because there were things a six-hour erection can provide for you. Good things.
“Good point.”
None of us knew what we were doing, but we decided to rent snowmobiles and take them on our own private tour of Vail that morning while the girls did whatever it was girls did in the mountains. I wasn’t sure why they rented them to a group of guys like this, but apparently, the family name authorized insanity because he just smiled and handed us the keys. Stupid fuck.
“That was easy,” Casten said, smiling brightly.
I had to laugh. Between him and Cole, they’d destroyed more vehicles than Spencer and me, but did that stop us from letting them drive away on one?
Nope.
There we were, lined up on the snow all staring at each other like some kind of Fast and the Furious movie.
The first miles were fine, but when they started bumping each other, I could tell the additional insurance we purchased was necessary.
“Why are you going so slow? What happened to Jameson Riley, NASCAR race car driver, huh?” Spencer teased, nudging the front of my snowmobile with his.
“Shut up,” I replied, trying to gain some focus. “I had a rough night.” More like Sway had a rough night, but still, align boring for six-hours straight took a lot out of you.
“I bet you did there, sport. You’re drivin’ like a bitch.” He smiled, hitting his throttle to pull ahead of me and dodging through a group of trees to shoot out in front of me and Casten and Cole. Aiden was back there somewhere with Axel and the rest of the JAR Racing boys, but it didn’t appear like they were racing each other. Just messing around and jumping off hills.
“Did you just call me a bitch?” I shouted, following closely behind Spencer. When I was close enough, I kicked at his legs. “I hope you drive this motherfucker off that cliff.”
“You’re such a baby when you’re not winning.” He smiled, and that only pissed me off more. “If you were driving the way you should be, you wouldn’t be losing,” he pointed out.
The only problem with all of this was I wasn’t exactly paying attention, and we were heading for a cliff.
“Abort, abort, go to plan B!” he screamed and jumped off his snowmobile.
“Wait… what’s plan B?” I asked, turning to look back at him.
I suddenly swerved to the right as I flew over the cliff, slamming to the ground with a loud crash. I flew about ten fucking feet and landed in a snow bank, laughing. Turned out it really wasn’t a cliff, more of a hill, but still, it was at least a six-foot drop I just made.
“Was this plan B?” he asked, walking over to me after I slid down the hill.
Standing, swaying slightly, I decided to sit back down in the snow. “Nope. That was definitely plan C,” I told him, laughing. “Plan B was bullshit.”
“Goddamn, racing snowmobiles!” Spencer yelled, pumping his fists in the air.
“Clearly, we didn’t think this through.” I stood again, trying to make my way back up the snow bank. “Let’s get back before that storm hits.”
Most of the boys were back by the time we returned to the rental shop.
Only I didn’t see Aiden and Cole anywhere. “Where’s Aiden and Cole?”
Anytime Cole was missing, you should be alarmed. Mostly because he was probably stealing something to sell. Loved the kid but he was fucking shifty as hell.
Casten shrugged, reaching up to dust snow out of his hair. “They were heading back before us. I thought they would have been back by now.”
Spencer shrugged as well. “I don’t see them. And what are we going to tell them? Tell them we hit a dog?”
“That won’t work,” I told them, groaning as I once again picked up pieces of my snowmobile. “They’re not going to buy it.”
Spencer seemed undeterred, as always. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“This had bad news written all over it. What did you expect to happen?” Casten piped in as he carried a piece of his too.
“How’d that happen?” I asked, smiling at him and noticed he was bleeding from his lips.
Casten grinned. “Axel wanted to race. Couldn’t let him win.”
Brothers. Always competitive.
When we dropped the snowmobiles off, it was pretty fucking evident what happened to them. It clearly looked like someone rammed into each other before they jumped them off a cliff.
“Whose snowmobile is that?” the teenage kid from behind the counter asked, scratching his head in confusion.
“It’s yours,” I shrugged. “I rented it from you like three hours ago.” I handed him the few pieces that wouldn’t stay on and the keys. “They’ve had a little… damage done to them.”
“What the fuck happened?” he gaped at the carts.
“We hit a dog.”
“A dog isn’t gonna do all that shit,” the kid said, pulling a tree branch out of the back of the snowmobile Spencer had been on.
“Are you calling me a liar?” I growled in the kid’s face.
“No, sir, but you’re going to have to pay for the damage. Your insurance doesn’t cover all this.”
Smiling now, I handed him my credit card. “I never said I wasn’t going to pay for it.”
WHEN WE made it back to the house, the snow had let up, but that damn wind made it nearly impossible to see driving.
“It looks dark up there,” Spencer noted as we walked up the steps.
“Those twinkle lights on the deck were annoying anyway,” I grumbled, stomping on the stairs to release the snow in my boots.
Spencer snorted, shaking his head at my logic. “Why did you have the place decorated if you didn’t like the lights?”
“It has nothing to do with the lights. I just don’t like Christmas in general.”
“What?” He laughed, removing his gloves and jacket and setting them on the deck out of the snow. “Too cheery for you, grumpy Grandpa?”
I shoved him into the railing. “Fuck you. It’s for her.”
“For her?” Spencer raised an eyebrow and stood next to me watching the snow-covered trees sway in the wind as it howled around us.
“Yes.” I gave a nod toward inside. “For her. She wanted a big Christmas, and I’m going to give it to her.”
Spencer looked at me, giving me an understanding smile. “You did good, little brother.”
I appreciated the sentiment, but I still had my doubts we were going to survive this shit without some sort of lasting scars.
There were no lights, but lanterns lined the front deck. Once we climbed the stairs to head to the door, there was Gray sitting on her potty chair staring at us. Casten, Axel and the rest of the JAR Racing boys following us onto the deck.
“A little mood lighting, pretty girl?” Casten asked her.
She stared up at me. “Poop,” she said, clarifying.
Hayden walked up to Casten holding a candle in one hand. “No power and Cole broke his arm. He’s a hot mess.” And then she frowned. “I can’t find Gray.”
Casten and Hayden lost Gray a lot, but she always turned up eventually. Casten pointed to the corner of the deck where his daughter was quietly trying to poop outside. “She’s cute, huh?”
Jack walked out and then covered his nose with his sleeve of his sweatshirt. “What’s that smell?”
And then Abigale, on Rager’s shoulders asked, “What’s she doin’?”
Gray glared at them. “Poop!” she screamed until the vein in her neck popped out.
“Cole! Stop fucking moving so I can finish putting the tape on it!” Spencer yelled from the family room where most everyone seemed to be gathered tending to him when we walked inside the house.
When we went in there, I took in th
e sight before me: Sway sitting on an ice pack and Cole with his arm wrapped up with Duct Tape with a bottle of whiskey in the other.
“Did he really break his arm?” Casten asked as I sat back smiling. I didn’t know why I found it all amusing, but I did.
“Appears that way.”
“Why is Mom sitting on an ice pack?”
“None of your business.” I slapped his chest. “Now come help carry firewood inside.”
The weather report indicated the snow would be returning and wouldn’t quit anytime soon nor was the wind. We’d be lucky if the power was back by Christmas tomorrow.
I never thought I would be sitting on an ice pack on Christmas morning, but when the warning said an erection lasting more than four hours should be seen by a doctor, I knew I was in trouble. Because I finally understood that warning was not for the user but for the poor crankcase it was using. Last night that warning meant nothing.
Not when you were married to Jameson Riley. We took advantage of it. An entire night and early morning of align boring. This mama wizard needed that so badly. There were times over the last six months I thought we’d lost that, which was why I wanted to do it on the hood of his Mustang, or behind the stage at the concert. All of it reminded me of how we started and that no matter how many times the caution flag was waved and we ran pace laps, we could always find our speed again on the restart.
“When are you going to get off that ice pack?” Hayden asked.
I took another bite of my delicious cinnamon roll Alley made and then took a sip of my mocha. Tasted like heaven. “When my crankcase stops hurting.”
Hayden rolled her eyes watching Gray carry down her potty chair looking for a private place to poop. “This family and their terms.”
“I know.” I beamed, barely able to keep from breaking out into a full-blown giggle. “It’s great.”
Jameson came into the kitchen, smiling. “Morning, honey.” It was a suggestive “morning,” one where I was willing to forgo my soreness and run upstairs with him and ask him to slap my tattooed ass and pull my hair. All of which he did the night before last, and did well.
“Morning.” I smiled back at him and laughed when Hayden rolled her eyes again.
It was a great morning. Again.
He winked down at me, eyeing my ice pack. “You okay?”
“Feeling good. Just a pit stop.” It seemed Jameson’s sex drive had been kick started by the Viagra. Now it was like he was racing in the 24 Hours of Le Mans.
Licking his lips slowly, his head dipped forward to the hollow base of my throat where he placed a lingering kiss. “Don’t take too long.”
“When do you think the power will come back on?”
“Hopefully soon. I want that Christmas prime rib Dad makes, damn it.” Casten actually sounded angry over it as he entered the kitchen where we were gathered.
Axel came into the kitchen too, Lily right behind him, and spotted the coffee we made by hooking up the generator to the espresso machine. “Oh, thank Jesus, coffee.”
“He uses a propane smoker,” I told Casten when Jameson was in the fridge digging out the prime rib. “It doesn’t need power so I’m assuming he can cook it.”
Jameson gave a nod outside to the steam rising off the back deck. “Yeah, smoker’s already going.”
“Dad!” Jack came into the kitchen wearing his helmet, something he did often looking for Axel. “Are we going to make it back in time for the Chili Bowl?”
“Yeah, bud.” Axel placed his hand on top of the helmet. “We will.”
Jack wanting to race bigger cars was a constant battle between Axel and him, as it was with him and Jameson when Axel was younger. Eventually—with Axel—we just gave up and allowed him to race but Jack was little, and I completely understood their hesitation with it. He was only six.
“I know.” He frowned. “But if Grandpa Jameson wins, I get his helmet.”
Ah, yes. The helmet collection. It started with Jameson collecting helmets in the showroom of JAR Racing and eventually Jack started one too. I found it adorable our grandson wanted to be just like his father and grandfather. They were both good men to look up to.
Casten laughed when Jack ran back into the family room. “It’s hard to get him to focus on anything but racing, huh?”
“Pretty much,” Axel noted, dishing himself a cinnamon roll only to have Jonah take it from him.
Just as the boys were talking about another snowball fight outside, Jameson came in from the garage carrying the prime rib already seasoned. Placing it on the counter, he reached for the 6-pack in the fridge he used in the smoker to keep the meat from drying out.
He smiled, proud of his abilities to make the best prime rib I’ve ever tasted. “Ready for dinner in about ten hours?”
“You guys are going to open that restaurant, right?” Casten asked. “And can you serve this every day?”
“Why?” Jameson didn’t look up from the roast as he rubbed more garlic around the outside. “You’re not in town every day.”
“True. Okay.” He considered his request again. “How about the ‘Casten Special’ and I call ahead when I’m in town.”
Chuckling, Jameson placed foil over the roast and carried the plate to the door. “I’ll see what I can do.” He stopped at the door and pointed outside. “Casten, she’s going to get sick out there.”
Casten and I stood to see who he was talking about. It was Gray, on the deck with her potty chair sitting naked on it watching the snow.
“She’s a free spirit.” Casten offered proudly, but essentially, she was just that. Perfect kid for him.
“Why is that kid always naked and sitting on that chair outside?” Aiden asked, coming into the kitchen right behind Spencer.
“She takes after her father. Casten was naked most every day until he was five,” Jameson added, “And where the hell were you last night?” he asked Aiden.
No one knew what happened to Cole and Aiden during the snowmobile adventure; just that Cole somehow broke his arm, and Aiden felt horrible about it.
“I was racing with Cole,” Aiden explained, sitting at the table, his eyes widening as he remembered the incident. “Something went wrong and I ran over him.”
“I see.” Jameson tried not to smile, but it was useless. He couldn’t help it.
It was pretty funny that he ran over him because if you knew Aiden, he was always so cautious. Never drive anywhere with him. Ever. It was like driving Miss Daisy around.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked him.
“No, I feel sick.” Aiden’s head fell to his hands. “He could have gotten really hurt by that.”
“Oh, don’t beat yourself up too much. He’s fine.” Spencer grinned. “And Tommy can help you out. I hear he’s got some anti-nausea pills.”
“Really?” Aiden perked up.
“Yep.” Spencer nodded.
And off Aiden went to find him. Stupid fucks.
Soon after Aiden left to find Tommy, Cole walked in looking like total shit. No, I take that back, he looked totally wasted.
Looking around the kitchen to see if I was the only one who noticed he was obviously using again, only to be distracted by Jameson returning from the smoker and placing his lips up against my ears.
“So I have some time… wanna do a little press forging upstairs?”
“As good as that sounds, I need a tiny break.”
His brow lifted. “How long of a break?”
“Another night?”
He groaned and flopped into the chair next to me. Watching Cole closely, I nudged Jameson with my elbow. His head popped up immediately only because he thought I changed my mind.
“Is Cole high?”
Skewing his head to the side, he eyed his nephew. “Probably.” And then he looked closer when he grabbed a bag of chips out of the cupboard and took them with him, bloodshot eyes barely open. “Yep.”
Great. We had that to deal with. Cole was on a rapid decline to rock bottom. He’d turn his li
fe around for a few months at a time, but it never seemed to stick. For the most part, Spencer tried to get him to grow up, but Alley actually babied him a little. And if you knew Alley at all, you understood how weird that was to think of her being soft with anyone.
LATER THAT MORNING, we finally all got our shit together enough to gather around the tree and hand out the gifts. We had shipped everything the week before we arrived so that the kids would still be able to enjoy Santa visiting them on Christmas.
Sitting on Jameson’s lap watching our family together, I was thankful he brought me here for this with the white snow falling, the candles everywhere because the power still hadn’t come back on, and Gray sitting in the middle of it all on her potty chair.
Nothing would bring back the losses we’d had over the years, the pain, the voids, but one thing created a small closure. Happiness.
“Having you here with me is the best Christmas present ever,” Jameson said in my ear as we watched our kids and grandkids open presents.
I turned to face him, firelight flickering his warm green eyes.
“Thank you,” I told him, meaning it with all my heart.
Jameson smiled. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“No. I don’t mean for this.”
His brow creased in confusion not understanding what I was saying.
Reaching for his hand, I took it in mine squeezing lightly. “I mean thank you, for everything. You’ve given me an amazing life.” He winked, maybe too choked up to say anything himself, so I added. “You made all of this possible and I don’t know how I can ever truly thank you for asking me to stay.”
His chest shook with laughter. “Well, I was naked so I bet the decision wasn’t all that hard.”
I wracked my brain for a moment remembering that night and if he was naked at the time, but he wasn’t. It was in the doorway of the hotel. Believe me, I remember every single detail about that night. “You were not naked when you said ‘stay’.” And then I remembered that awful skirt Emma made me wear. “I was… kind of.”
Shrugging, he had to make his point when he said, “Either way, someone was naked, and staying was definitely the better option.”
