VICTORY
Book 6
The Walker Family Series
by
Bernadette Marie
This is a fictional work. The names, characters, incidents, and locations are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination, or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real.
5 PRINCE PUBLISHING & BOOKS, LLC
PO Box 16507
Denver, CO 80216
www.5PrinceBooks.com
ISBN-13 978-1-63112-187-6
ISBN-10: 1-63112-187-1
VICTORY, Bernadette Marie
Copyright Bernadette Marie 2017
Published by 5 Prince Publishing
Cover Credit: Bernadette Soehner
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles. For any other permission please contact 5 Prince Publishing and Books, LLC.
First Edition 2017
5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC
Stan,
My ally in life, and in every race.
You have forever helped me get to the finish line,
push harder, and win races (mostly had with myself.)
You are forever the greatest crew chief around,
and I love you.
Acknowledgements:
TNGSJ: Each race is worth running. I will forever be your biggest fan, just as you’ve always been mine.
Mom, Dad, and Sissy: Through every race I’ve ever challenged myself in, you’ve been there through it all, cheering and picking me up. Thank you for that!
Cate and Clare: Thank you for continuing with the challenges I set forth. Your support and love is priceless.
My Street Team and Loyal Readers: Thank you for always being there at the finish line waiting for me. It is that motivation that keeps me writing and doing what I love.
Dear Reader,
I couldn’t have had more fun creating Missy Sheridan. A woman in a predominantly man’s world, it’s so intriguing. I can’t help but admire women who crash through glass ceilings, or race and crash cars.
Jake Walker, he stayed very true to what I’m finding Walker men to be, sexy, motivated, and a tad bit cranky. Mix that with a woman who is hell bent on crashing into him, it makes for a good story.
As you know, if you’ve read me for some time, I love to bring to life family sagas where family rallies around one another. I think you’ll find that Victory holds true to that. The children of Byron Walker might not care too much for him, but they always have one another’s backs.
I hope you enjoy Victory, and I look forward to bringing book 7 to you soon, Walker Spirit.
Happy Reading!
Bernadette Marie
Other Titles by
Bernadette Marie
THE KELLER FAMILY SERIES THE WALKER FAMILY SERIES
The Executive’s Decision Walker Pride
A Second Chance Stargazing
Opposite Attraction Walker Bride
Center Stage Wanderlust
Lost and Found Walker Revenge
Love Songs Victory
Home Run ASPEN CREEK SERIES
The Acceptance First Kiss
The Merger Unexpected Admirer
The Escape Clause On Thin Ice
A Romance for Christmas Indomitable Spirit
THE MATCHMAKERS TRILOGY THE THREE MRS. MONROES
Matchmakers Amelia
Encore Penelope
Finding Hope Vivian
SINGLE TITLES
Cart Before the Horse
Candy Kisses
VICTORY
Bernadette Marie
Chapter One
Georgia summer beat down on Jake Walker’s neck as he ripped his helmet off his head and climbed from the race car which had slammed into the wall.
The yellow flag of caution waved as his crew ran toward him. The other cars slowed, and it always made him feel as though he were trapped on the highway with busybody onlookers trying to get a glimpse of an accident.
But when the bright pink Chevy passed by, he knew the grin of the driver was hidden behind that equally bright helmet. God, she was a pain in the ass.
“Holy hell, Jake.” His crew chief, Bud, pulled off his cap and wiped the bead of sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “Get ‘er moving,” he hollered to the crew as they maneuvered the car from the wall and pushed it toward pit row.
It wasn’t the end of the car, Jake thought, as he examined the damage, running behind them. But it sure as hell was the end of the race. And didn’t that just piss him off royally?
As his team cleared the car from the track, he turned to see the race resume and that damned pink car pulled into second. She didn’t deserve to be that close to the lead, he thought. Missy Sheridan was a princess with an attitude. The sport didn’t need her.
Her daddy paid for her car, and her body paid for the entry fee.
Running his fingers through his damp hair, he shook the thought from his mind. That wasn’t fair to her. That was rumor and of course it circulated in a male dominated sport. But damn it, he was pissed at her, so he’d let it stir in his head that she didn’t belong.
The fact of the matter was she’d pushed him out of three races now, and it was getting old. She was a damn good driver and oh what a looker. But she had a mouth to go with that driving skill, and most of the men on the track didn’t take to it.
As soon as she was pushing her beast to the back of her truck, he’d be right there giving her an earful. This wasn’t going to be a habit, him being run off the track by some broad in a pink car. No, sir. She was going to rue the day she started crap with him.
Missy watched as Jake Walker’s team loaded up his car. It had been a fine car, she thought, as she eased hers behind the leader for the next few laps.
The vibration from the speed and the roar of the engine made her whole body come alive. It was no wonder word around the track was she’d slept her way into the race. But it was the race which was her lover and gave her more pleasure than any man could.
As she turned the corner, she saw the sign she’d been looking for. The white flag was up, and this meant she had to make her mark.
Missy focused on team Justice’s car. She got Walker out of the way, now Justice needed to step aside.
The engine revved as she pressed it to go faster, shifting into the next gear and pulling to the inside of the track.
Justice moved to block her, and she quickly adjusted to go high and pass him—but he countered.
Fine, she’d try again. This time, she’d aim high and see what he did.
Taking the next turn, she poised to pass him on the outside, but the red car in front of her mocked her and kept on course as a green car moved in next to her.
“Damn it!” she hollered.
“Missy, what the hell are you doin’?” Her brother’s voice crept into her ear. “Maverick is pushing you out. Get the hell out of there.”
“What do you think I’m doing?” she grunted as she gripped the steering wheel tighter on the third turn.
Her mother would have warned her that karma was a bitch—though she’d have used words straight from the Bible to say it. She’d forced Walker out of the race, so now Maverick was going to secure Justice a win by pushing her out.
Judging the gap between herself and Justice, and Maverick and the wall, she gunned the engine and pushed the car as hard as she could.
She would take Justice going on the outside.
Just as her bumper cleared the back end of his car, Maverick moved in right behind Justice.
With every foot traveled, they pushed her closer and closer to the wall. She gritted her teeth and gripped the st
eering wheel tighter.
Just as the checkered flag came into view, she felt the slightest nudge from Maverick’s car which caused her to lose what little control she had. The front end of her car hit the wall and ricocheted her back onto the track backward, barely missing Maverick.
The world was spinning now, and her brother’s voice was buzzing in her ears as her car turned from the wall, through the cars on the track, and hit the grass before flipping and landing on its wheels.
Jake watched as the accident unfolded before his eyes. Oh, he’d have wanted her to lose, but not like that, he thought, as he and Bud ran toward her car along with her crew and the emergency personnel. Just as he drew closer, the engine burst into flames, and he could see her trying to work her way out of the car.
How he made it faster than the rest of them, he’d never know. But he was standing at the side of the car ready to aid her in getting out.
“My foot is stuck in the harness,” she hollered through her helmet.
Jake managed to get her arm around his neck and hold her as she kicked free from the harness and he pulled her from the car just as the crew got there to put out the flames.
When her feet hit the ground she stumbled, nearly taking Jake down with her. But in an awkward dance, as people rushed past them, they managed to balance.
She quickly pulled her helmet off and looked at the car.
“Son-of-a-bitch! Look what they did to me.” Her voice was lost in the bustle of chaos around them.
“Son-of-a-bitch is right.” He laughed. “Karma, huh?”
She spun to face him, and her long dark braid nearly caught him in the eye. “Don’t start with me, Walker. What are you, my mother?”
“Oh, it’s okay for you to wreck me out of the race, but…”
“Don’t go there.” She dropped her helmet to the ground and moved in toward him.
“Oh, I went there.” He firmed his stance as she shoved at him.
“You’re an ass!”
“And you’re a…”
Bud came between them and pushed them apart. “Now the two of you stop it. You’re acting like spoiled brats. You both deserve what you got. Now kiss and make up.”
Missy’s eyes grew wide, and she stooped to pick up her helmet. “I’m guessing his mouth is tainted from track trash.”
“And what about you?” Jake countered as Missy walked away from him, her helmet tucked up under her arm.
Bud pushed him in the other direction. “You two should just go to bed with each other and get it over with.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means the tension between you both is always so thick it’s like a wall.”
Jake snorted a laugh. “Trust me. I don’t want any part of that.”
“Sure you do. Everyone does.”
He supposed he couldn’t blame everyone. She was a hot little number, which he verified as he turned and looked at her with her crew.
In stature, she wasn’t a giant, but in attitude, she could hang with the big boys. And when she wasn’t in racing gear, those legs were firm and tan. He’d often thought of running his fingers through those long brown stands of hair, but usually, in the end, he figured he’d just give them a good yank. The thought made him chuckle. Bud was an idiot saying there was sexual tension between them. There was animosity and a competitive streak, but sexual tension—nah. Bud was a dreamer.
Jake headed back to his truck where his wrecked car sat. Maybe he’d head to the bar and find him some real sexual tension. He could use some of that and an ice cold beer.
Chapter Two
The regular crowds had formed in the bar at the hotel. Crews that challenged each other on the track sat among one another to have a beer and talk smack.
No doubt conversations going on included Missy pushing him out of another race, and then the demise of her car.
As much as he wanted to be part of that, and stroll down memory lane to when she’d lost the race, he thought maybe he’d rather be alone.
The bar across the street had fewer cars in the lot. He’d have a drink—or two—then head back to his room. It had been quite a weekend and he was ready to be done with it.
Jake jogged across the street mid-block. Even as a grown man he could hear his mother’s voice telling him not to do that. On the other hand, it would have been his father that had led him across the street—in the middle—dodging traffic.
It was no wonder he’d always enjoyed the racing circuit, he thought as he walked through the parking lot. It mimicked his life. Fast. Dangerous. Unpredictable.
He supposed he could have gone into boxing too. Throughout most his life, he was defending himself against those who had been wronged by his father, Byron Walker. Only last year his father had nearly lost the family’s ranch because he’d gambled it away. If it hadn’t had been for Jake’s uncle Everett, the Walkers would have lost everything.
Of course, Everett’s family lived on the land and worked it. Byron’s kids felt it best to do other things. Jake’s half-sister, Pearl, owned a bridal boutique. His other half-sister, Audrey, was a hair stylist. It had only been in the past year or so that he’d gotten to know yet another half-sister, Bethany, who had once been some horror movie queen in Hollywood. Now she was settled down, married to a writer, and she was writing children’s books and designing floral arrangements for a florist.
Jake ran a garage, which helped pay for his racing passion. His brother, Todd, was the only one of Byron’s kids that did work the ranch their grandfather had established.
Five kids from the same man, yet so distinctively different. They did, however, have a sense of family. No one crossed a Walker no matter what side. They all came together when they needed to.
Jake opened the door to the bar, and Blake Shelton’s voice rang out loud from the speakers. The crowd was subdued, which was what he needed for a Sunday night.
He moved to the bar and took a seat. The bartender, a man perhaps in his forties, with a bald head and a long beard, moved toward him. He rested his completely tattooed arms on the bar. “What can I get ya?”
“Bud.”
The man nodded, turned and pulled the bottle from a cooler, and popped off the top. “You in for the races?”
“Yeah. Taking home the pieces of my car tomorrow.”
“Ah, you were in the race?”
“Sure. ‘Til I got pushed into the wall.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long pull. “Bitch,” he said under his breath as he set the bottle back down on the bar.
“You should say it to my face if you mean it,” Missy’s voice sizzled in his ears as he turned to see her taking the seat next to him. “I’ll have one too,” she told the bartender and he obliged.
“Seriously?” he growled. “I came across the street to be alone, and you came and sat down next to me? Haven’t you caused me enough problems today?” He turned on his stool and faced the mirror opposite them on the bar.
Weren’t they a pair?
“You could have pulled out of that,” she offered as she took her first drink. “You lost control of your car… wasn’t all my fault.”
“You got what you wanted. That’s the third race you’ve taken me out of. Why don’t you move on?”
Missy rolled the bottle between her palms. “I’m sorry.”
Jake snorted a laugh. “Right. You’re sorry. You’ve run my ass out of three races this season, and you’re sorry. What kind of driver are you?”
He picked up his bottle and moved off his stool before she reached for his arm. “I’m one with a conscience.”
Jake studied her for a moment, took another long pull from his beer and set it back on the bar. He fished in his pocket for some money and threw it on the bar. Nodding toward the bartender, he said, “That should cover both of us.” Then he turned back to Missy. “Sell your story somewhere else. I’m done with you.”
Missy watched him walk away, shoving the door open as he left. What an asshole. How did she eve
r think he’d listen to her anyway? But she had to tell him what was going on. He had to know that Justice and Maverick were trying to keep him out of the race—permanently.
He’d had a terrible crash nearly three years ago that almost killed him. What made the madman think he should race again, she wondered. Jake Walker was an idiot.
She could say she hated him, but she didn’t want to see him dead. And if he kept at it, he’d end up there.
Pushing back from the bar, she took one last sip from her nearly full beer. She had to get his attention, and he could hate her for it if he wanted to. But she wasn’t going to let him get killed.
Missy hurried to the parking lot to find Jake. She scanned the area, but she didn’t see him anywhere. The man walked with a limp. How could he have possibly gotten away from her that quickly?
“Now this is what I call a lucky night,” a voice came from beyond a truck to her left. “Missy Sheridan is out looking for a nightcap.”
Carson Maverick walked toward her with his cocky sway. He removed his ball cap, ran a hand over his short hair, and replaced the cap, adjusting it low over his brow. “You know. You and I ain’t ever hooked up. I must be the odd man out, huh? I hear that’s how you get around.”
Missy fisted her hands to her side. She was used to this kind of treatment from nearly every man in the circuit. Since she’d started racing, the male chauvinistic side of men came out in nearly everyone she met. She could handle that. There wasn’t a day in her life she didn’t deal with it.
Victory Page 1
