“Okay, let’s go,” she agreed.
“Where’s your car?”
“Up the road a little. Yours?”
“Parked off to the side in a patch of trees.”
Brody’s attention perked as they heard sirens in the distance, and he picked up the pace.
“C’mon, we need to leave, or our first engagement picture will be mug shots,” he said, only partly joking.
They made it to their cars and left quickly, Brody ahead of her with his nephew, just in time to see at least a dozen Florida Highway Patrol cars speed past them, heading toward the airstrip.
A tingle sped down Hannah’s spine, making her shiver as she watched the lights in the rearview. She didn’t want to get arrested, certainly, but the close call was exciting. She thought about all the ways she might work out that excitement once she got back to the farm and was alone with Brody. That set off a whole new set of shivers. Then her thoughts turned serious again.
He hadn’t been out there racing for kicks, and his real reason for being there touched Hannah. Brody would clearly do anything for the people he cared about. He had even tried to protect her, though Hannah didn’t want to be protected.
She was finally living, not simply observing or imagining, and it was wonderful. This was what she’d been missing all those years, hiding in her office behind sheets of numbers. She definitely needed to catch up.
On the side of the road Hannah noted a bar where the parking lot was crammed with motorcycles. She wondered if Brody might take her there, or if he rode a bike. She was fairly sure that if it had wheels, he’d probably mastered it.
Maybe she’d enjoy having a motorcycle, she mused. Women rode all the time these days, and it would save money on gas, too. There were so many possibilities. So much to explore.
She followed Brody through the dark, unfamiliar streets. He stopped in front of a small ranch-style home and signaled her to wait as he dropped the boy off.
It was a reminder that while they were going to be married, what they had now really wasn’t much different from what they’d had during their month-long affair. She was still an outsider. Not really part of the family. Not really his wife in the truest sense.
Which was how she wanted it, right? The last thing she needed now was to be tied down. She was only starting to realize her independence and discover her own dreams.
He came back out shortly after, approaching her car and laying his arm on the roof, seemingly giant from her seated position.
“Sorry about that. I would have invited you in, but I figured Brandi wasn’t going to be happy with Aiden, and I wanted to talk to her privately for a minute, try to help the kid out if I could.”
He was a big man. Hannah loved how his shirt stretched across the muscles of his chest, and couldn’t help admiring the carved lines of his biceps and forearms, so nicely shaped and strong. It made her swallow hard, licking her lips.
“I understand completely—no worries,” she replied, her voice more breathless than she intended. She couldn’t help herself from reaching up, touching his arm.
The move made him lean down, and she noticed, in the glow of the streetlight, how the pulse hammered in his throat from her simple touch.
“I’m starving,” he said. “You?”
All she could do was nod.
Instead of going back to his own car, Brody crossed around to her passenger door, getting in.
“What about your car?”
“I’ll get it tomorrow, or Brandi can drive it back over. I’ve spent enough time away from you tonight.”
His tone was laced with such intention and emotion, it made her heart leap. Hannah had to focus sharply to keep her attention on the road as she pulled away from the curb.
Her task was made even more difficult when Brody’s hand slipped down over her skin and under her shorts, stroking a tender spot.
“I won’t be able to focus on my driving if you keep that up,” she said on a shaky laugh, wanting him to continue but knowing it wasn’t the best idea.
He smiled, but withdrew his hand. “So pull over. There’s a spot up ahead, on the right.”
Hannah saw it, a narrow road that veered off into trees. She followed it up a sharp hill, where a few seconds later they emerged out on a field that overlooked wetlands that stretched forever into the distance.
“Where are we?” she breathed. “This is gorgeous. It’s magical, how the moon reflects on the water.”
“It’s the far end of Myakka River State Park,” Brody said, but from his tone, she could tell that he wasn’t interested in the view.
It was dark, quiet and private.
Hannah turned the car off, her senses taking over.
She’d never had sex in a car before. So many firsts in one day.
“These front seats aren’t very comfortable,” she said.
“My thought exactly.”
Seconds later, they were in the back of her small car, making out like teenagers, and she was having the time of her life. Again.
Her earlier ideas about riding a motorcycle were forgotten. Hannah knew, as Brody eased her shorts down, that she was never, ever giving up this car.
* * *
BRODY HAD HAD more women in the backseats of cars than he could count. As one would expect, it was one of his favorite places to work off some steam, especially after a race.
But Hannah blew his mind. While she’d let him dominate at home in the shower, in the car, she took control, riding him with abandon until, her body racked with release, he’d banded his arms around her and gave in to the pleasure, as well.
It was fast, hot and incredible. He held her there for a long while as their breathing evened, not wanting the moment to pass. Tenderness that he’d never experienced for anyone else before overwhelmed him.
Hannah was so sweet, throwing herself completely into life, giving everything. She thought that she was boring or unadventurous, but of all the things Brody had experienced in life, none of it was as exciting as being with her like this.
Which made him crave more. He’d been around enough to know that it would probably wear off in time, but for now, she was exactly what he needed. And then some.
“Still hungry?” he asked against her ear.
“Absolutely.”
“Vixen. I mean for food.”
She laughed, and that made him happy. He wanted her happy.
“Oh, that. Yes.”
“There’s a twenty-four-hour diner back a mile or two from here, if that’s good.”
“Perfect.”
They untangled their bodies in the cramped space, and fifteen minutes later, they were sliding into a booth.
He hadn’t been to the place for years, but it hadn’t changed much. The red vinyl seats had been updated to newer, shinier red vinyl. Also updated were the tables, stools and counter. Otherwise, it was all the same, including the coin-fed jukeboxes at each table and the racing and other sports memorabilia all over the walls.
Brody got some change for a dollar at the register, and they had fun picking some songs—all of them at least a decade old—before ordering cheeseburgers and fries with milk shakes. It was a heavy midnight meal, but he was always starving after a race, and after sex.
He might as well be a teenager with his first date, he thought, looking at Hannah, her eyes bright. A very horny teenager.
Her color was still high from what had happened in the car, lips red from kissing. He reached over, taking her hand across the table.
“I suppose we should shop for a ring tomorrow,” he said, studying her fingers, pale skin that was only slightly tanned from the Florida sun. He tried to imagine how a ring would look on her slim finger. His ring.
“What? Absolutely not. I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not? People will expect it, and it’s not as though I can’t afford it, Hannah.”
He knew what she was thinking, though she didn’t say it, her expression suddenly tense.
A ring made it feel more real. For him, too. But for some reason, it didn’t cause him the anxiety it seemed to cause for her.
“A lot of people skip the traditional symbols these days,” she countered. “Women keep their own names—which I will—and they don’t wear rings or have big weddings,” she continued.
“True, but I don’t want the media, or my family, thinking I’m a cheapskate. Consider it a gift. A thank-you. For you to keep, to do whatever you want with later. Maybe it could finance a new adventure down the line,” he added. He realized the mistake of his words as soon as they passed his lips.
She withdrew her hand.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, obviously. It’s not a payoff,” he said in a rush, wishing he could erase what he’d said. “Not like that at all. It’s difficult to...I don’t know, make what we’re doing—”
“Real and not real at the same time?” she offered.
“Yeah.”
Their food arrived, and Brody was glad to not have to say anything while they ate and listened to music, which helped ease the tension between them.
After they finished eating, Brody broached the topic again, choosing his words more carefully this time.
“I want to do right by you, Hannah. Regardless of the details, I’ll be your husband, and while it lasts I want it to be as real as it can be. How I feel about you, how you turn me on and everything else... I like being with you. You’re a friend, and I hope you always will be, even...after we’re not together anymore. So let me buy you a ring, because of that. Okay?”
She sipped her milk shake, drawing his attention to her mouth, which always caused his heart to stutter. What other woman had ever affected him like Hannah did?
As she put her cup down, she nodded, seeming to agree. He wondered why she didn’t say anything, but then noticed her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
Oh, crap, he’d made her cry, he thought in a panic, unsure what he’d done this time, but then she smiled. Brody was mute with confusion.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be so emotional, but that was so sweet. You’re a good man, Brody. I care about you, too, and you definitely turn me on,” she said, her cheeks flushing with her admission.
Sweet and bold were an intriguing mix in this woman. Brody was fascinated as he watched her emerge from her shell.
“Okay, then, that’s settled. Ring shopping tomorrow. I really would like to see your pictures,” he added, changing the subject. “Do you have to get them developed? Or do you do it yourself?”
“Digital. I took a course in developing film back in college, and I remember how, I think. For now, I’m going with digital, which is easier on the road. This way, I can get them on my computer and on the blog immediately.”
“Smart thinking.”
The door to the diner opened and a group of people came in, so loud they drowned out the music and all conversation. Brody glared, but then recognized the man who had been running the bets at the race. With him he had the same two thugs he’d had back at the airstrip. Brody was surprised they hadn’t been arrested, but they must have had an escape route set up.
“We need to leave,” he said quietly to Hannah.
Just then, the server who had been waiting on them approached the table with the bill and a shy smile.
“Here’s your bill, but it’s on the house. The owner, all of us really, are huge racing fans. I wondered if you could sign this for me,” she said, pulling a diner hat out of her apron pocket. “I was sorry to hear you retired. My husband, son and I are huge fans, Mr. Palmer.”
Brody knew that he was caught and couldn’t leave now.
“That’s really nice of you, thank you,” he said with a smile, taking the hat and a marker from her, signing it and then leaving a tip that was bigger than the bill.
He put his own hat back on, hoping no one else had noticed, but no such luck. The place was relatively empty and someone asking for an autograph was very visible. As was his picture on the far wall, he noted suddenly. His back had been to it before. As he noticed it, the server piped up again.
“If you could sign that, too, it would be awesome.”
He smiled, trying to find a way out. “I live close by and could come back another time to do that, perhaps? It’s late, and my date is tired,” he explained with a wink.
“Of course. It would be great to have you come back,” the young woman said with a wide smile.
A few other patrons noticed and approached the table, too, and Hannah watched in fascination, unaware that this was the last thing they needed at the moment. But Brody couldn’t be rude to fans. It was another one of his few unbreakable rules. Hopefully, the guys across the diner wouldn’t think much about it.
That ended up being another empty hope—they approached the table, too.
Brody met the gaze of the bookie, not backing down.
“Who the heck are you, old man? Some movie star or something? You know, from silent film?” he said, getting a laugh from his buddies.
Brody flicked a glance in Hannah’s direction. She tried not to appear too worried and probably failed.
“That’s Brody Palmer, you nitwit,” one of the other customers who had asked for his signature said with a sneer. “See the poster? If your generation ever got their faces out of their video games you might know a local celebrity when you saw one. Don’t you follow racing?”
And that was that, Brody realized, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The punk leaned on the table. “A professional, huh? So you’re a ringer? You took money from me, old man. And your boy did, too. That’s cheating, and that’s not a good thing.”
Brody noticed one of the thugs eyeing Hannah in the wrong way, and he drew himself up to his full height, pulling their gazes back to him.
“Listen, fellas, I was helping out my nephew, like I said. I can give you your money back, with interest, no problem. But this is a nice place, with nice people. They don’t need any trouble. Why don’t we take this conversation outside?”
The bookie and the two guys with him were solid, but not too big. Brody figured he could take them if he needed to.
“Sure, we can go outside,” the bookie said with a chuckle, stepping back. “Do this old school.”
Brody turned to Hannah. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head, but he was already walking to the door. This wasn’t going to help his reputation any, but he didn’t see that he had much choice. At least outside, no one else would get hurt.
Except that Hannah was following.
He turned to tell her not to follow when he saw one of the thugs on the side of the bookie draw back and level his fist at Brody’s face. Hannah lurched to warn him and was yanked away by the other guy.
Brody saw red at anyone touching her, especially so roughly. Ducking the punch and sending his attacker into a table, he turned to deal with the guy who was still holding on to Hannah.
Brody stepped forward, and the bookie interfered with his progress.
“You’d better back off,” he said to Brody, and pulled a knife from his pocket.
A very nasty-looking knife.
Brody put his hands up. “Just let my girl go and we’re good.”
“No, we’re not good. But maybe now we’re in a better bargaining position,” the guy said with a slimy smile. “I think you need to pay up more than you did, all things considered. You cheated, and you hurt one of my guys.”
Brody saw the fans who had talked with him earlier take a few steps forward to help, but he gave them a look that he hoped stopped any well-inten
tioned rescues. If this guy had a knife, the other one might have one, too. Brody couldn’t risk anything happening to Hannah.
“Fine, I’ll write you a check. Name it, but let her go.”
Suddenly Brody looked up to see Hannah break free. She let out some kind of growl, a feral, infuriated noise as she swung the camera by its strap and hit the bookie hard enough to send him flying forward into the nearest table, his knife flying in the opposite direction.
Brody jumped in and lunged to get the knife as he saw the thug who had held Hannah reach for her again.
That was two times too many that the jerk had put his hands on her, and it was Brody’s turn to get angry. He closed the space between them quickly and dropped the jerk with one punch, out cold.
Applause rose on the other side of the diner, and Brody looked up to see his fans had the bookie cornered at a table, and they were smiling approvingly.
Brody looked for Hannah to make sure she was okay and saw her sitting on the floor, staring at the pieces of her camera. There were many pieces, and it didn’t look as though it could be put back together again.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” Brody said, squatting down and helping her pick up the busted camera.
“It’s okay. I still have the SD card with the pictures,” she said, raising her face to his. He expected her to be upset, perhaps in tears, at losing one of her prized possessions, but instead, that feral gleam still shone in her eyes as she switched her gaze to the bookie. “It was so worth it.”
Brody wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to kiss her more. So he did.
8
HANNAH FOUND BRODY frowning as he sat with a newspaper and coffee the next morning.
“Morning,” she said, taking one of his hands in hers and inspecting the bruises from the punch he’d landed the night before. “Hurt?”
“Not much. I’ve had worse.”
Without elaborating, he turned the paper toward her, and she gaped at the headline. Has Bad Boy Brody Palmer Finally Found His Perfect Bad Girl?
“Oh, no...”
The picture was pretty good, actually, catching the instant Hannah hit the bookie with her camera, and Brody pulling his fist back to hit the guy who was reaching to grab her.
Rock Solid Page 10
