High-Speed Hunger

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High-Speed Hunger Page 2

by Shady Grace


  He thought back to when he’d first arrived in the United States, and how many months he’d wasted trying to find a different career. In the end, all it took was coming across an online ad for a crew guy at Ragin’ Cajun Racing for him to realize this job was perfect for him. The Lavoie’s were good people, and he wouldn’t do anything to screw up their relationship.

  Even though leaving all of his family behind to see the world, he had more opportunity in the U.S. to expand his skills and make a name for himself. Raised on the track, he’d watched his father race at Vernam Field in Clarendon Parish back home. By fifteen, he was a local speed demon, outrunning anything on wheels. But after the accident that killed his father, he’d questioned getting behind the wheel ever again.

  Meeting the spirited Jonnie Lavoie a month ago rekindled those urges to race again. Aside from being opposites in appearance, Jonnie was so much like his father it was uncanny. The sparkle in his eyes just before a race, the way the old man rubbed his thumb over his pocket watch as the cars ripped around the track. He even wore two different colored laces on his boots—just like his father had done. Ty had known then and there, he’d found where he was meant to be. Jonnie had shaken his hand, shown him the ropes, and treated him like family.

  And then he’d met Eileen.

  He had never been attracted to a white woman before, but without a doubt, the boss’ daughter had changed his personal laws of attraction. Beautiful blue-gray eyes and incredible golden hair, framed a face he would enjoy waking up to every morning. Those sultry curves haunted his mind at night. But most of all, he loved how her eyes lit up with every stunning smile.

  Eileen Lavoie was intelligent, too. He’d seen her deal with the drivers and crew, run the office, do the books, and keep the joint running smooth. The woman even knew how to fix the cars if needed. Thinking about her alone at night gave him an erection he could strike a match on.

  With her in mind, he finished putting his tools away and cleaned his work space in the shop. Whistling a home-baked tune, he headed up to his apartment, anxious to dig into the leftover ackee and salt fish he’d cooked up the day before.

  The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, the delicious aroma of home hit his nostrils. Eager to eat, he stripped out of the coveralls, left the muscle shirt on, and donned a pair of shorts. Then he washed his hands and doled out food onto a plate. With stomach rumbling, he took a seat at the table and was lifting the fork to his mouth when somebody knocked at the door. Bumbaclot.

  “Who is it?” he shouted, not in the mood for company.

  “It’s Eileen.”

  His annoyance vanished, replaced with curious anxiety at having the beautiful manager at his apartment. He pushed away from the table and answered the door. She stood on the other side, appearing shifty and nervous.

  “Is something wrong?” He couldn’t help eying her baggy jogging pants—rolled up just under her knees—and the tight-fitting tank top revealing her tempting bust. She looked sexy and comfortable all at once.

  She stepped back, maybe deciding she shouldn’t be there.

  He wondered if she’d found out what happened the night before and came to question him about it. “Are you okay?”

  Shy eyes met his. “Oh. Of course. I just…I wanted to drop in to see how you were doing. Did I interrupt—” She peered around his shoulder and stared toward the kitchen. “What is that smell?”

  Ty couldn’t contain his smile. Stepping aside, he gestured to the table. “Hungry? I made ackee and salt fish.”

  “Damn, that smells so good. But I don’t want to intrude.”

  Even though she insisted on leaving, she walked into the apartment, seeming to float toward the table. He chuckled and closed the door behind them.

  “I’ll make you a plate. It’s no trouble, but be warned. It’s spicy and salty.”

  They sat together in silence, enjoying the meal. Ty watched—amused—while she devoured everything. A woman with a good appetite was a keeper, his father had always said.

  With her plate almost licked clean, Eileen glanced up with a shameful expression. “I’m sorry. I feel like a pig, but that was so delicious.”

  He laughed. “Would you like more?”

  Her pretty eyes bulged. “God, no. I’ll bust out of my pants if I do. Here, let me get this.”

  She snatched their dishes from the table and proceeded to rinse them. Every once in a while Ty cringed when a plate banged against the sink.

  “Guests shouldn’t clean up,” he teased, eyeing her fidgety movements. Then and there, he decided if he fed her again, there might not be any dishes left if she washed them.

  “But I wasn’t really invited, was I? So tell me, how do you like your place? I’ve been up here just once before.”

  The tiny space he called home was a little white-walled box. “It’s small but cozy.” An old seventies-style, brown plaid sofa bed faced a floor model TV and floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. The table and two chairs overlooked the parking lot and racetrack out back. Beyond that, the kitchen and bathroom. “It’s simple, just like my life.”

  Eileen returned to the table and sat across from him. “My folks lived up here before I was born. Pop was just starting out then.” A faraway expression crossed her sweet face. “I know we don’t know much about each other, but I like to know each and every one of my employees. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. Okay?”

  Ty wanted to tell her the truth, but getting tangled in her affairs wasn’t his business. “I have a hard time believing you came here just to say that.”

  She settled back in the chair and crossed her arms. He fought the urge to stare at her tits pushed up near to her chin. “No. I also wanted to make sure you and Bobby…. Well…I know he can be a dick, but he’s our best driver. I need everyone on the team to get along.”

  He’s a dick all right.

  “Why are you with him?” Ty wanted to know what she saw in him. Imagining the two of them together—laughing and making love—didn’t seem right.

  She looked at him, her gaze sharp. “Can you promise me you’ll get along, at least until after the big race?”

  He managed to control his laugh at the ridiculous situation he was just put in. “I’m sorry. But I can’t promise you that.”

  After a moment of silence that seemed to drag on for too long, she nodded and got up. “I don’t understand what happened between you two, and maybe I never will. But thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

  He didn’t know how to make her open up to him, but he sensed they had a connection few men and women were lucky enough to find. She observed him like she wanted to know him more, and that spoke volumes. At least it allowed a small bit of hope.

  Before she left, there was one thing left to say. “Eileen?”

  She turned just outside the door and glanced back. “Yes?”

  “I will promise you one thing. When you’ve had enough…I’ll be right here waiting.”

  Chapter Three

  In the ladies washroom at their favorite bar and grill, Jennifer—the teams’ secretary—exited a stall and came to the sink.

  Eileen smiled at the young woman. “Are you enjoying the party?”

  Jennifer washed her hands and then leaned over the counter to freshen up her lipstick. “It’s not bad. Could be better. Too many dirty old men for my liking.” The young girl fluffed her crimson-red hair and adjusted her tits.

  “Have you had a chance to meet the new guy yet?”

  “Who, the black guy?” Jennifer’s eyes popped for a second, and then she made a face in the mirror.

  She stared, dumbfounded over the girl’s disgusted expression. “What’s the matter? You don’t think he’s handsome?”

  Jennifer snickered. “No thanks. He’s too dark for me. You, on the other hand, are a lucky woman to have Bobby. He’s gonna make you rich.”

  The snooty way she said it made Eileen want to smash the secretary’s little face in the mirror. Instead, she forced a
smile, turned away to freshen up her powder, and pinched some color in her cheeks. It was one thing to know Bobby didn’t like Ty, but that was over the competition. Jennifer had just revealed a side of herself she didn’t like at all. Skin color shouldn’t matter. In Eileen’s eyes, character meant everything.

  And she didn’t feel lucky to have Bobby at all. Maybe she’d become too comfortable. Maybe she couldn’t do any better. The thing she knew for certain was happiness had walked out the door a long time ago.

  The blonde woman reflected in the mirror looked horrid. Maybe it was the overhead lighting, or maybe those were serious dark smudges under her eyes. Either way, she felt like shit. Pop was right—maybe a vacation would do her some good.

  Eileen finished up and didn’t bother holding the door open for Jennifer. She exited the washroom and wandered back to their table.

  Chelsea’s Bar and Grill was the best place for a good time in their neck of the city. “Bad to the Bone” by George Thorogood resounded through the place when she took her seat at the staff table. Everyone was laughing at something or shouting to each other over the music.

  Several couples had gathered around the pool tables, and a group of drunken girls bumped and grinded on the small dance floor in the center of the room. Tonight, they were celebrating Bobby’s win from earlier in the week.

  Everyone except Tyrone.

  He sat next to Pop who was saying something in his ear at the other end of the table, but his dark eyes were locked on Eileen. When his sexy mouth curved up, a shy smile touched her lips.

  “When you’ve had enough…I’ll be here waiting.”

  How could she not think about those words from the other night? The guy was a stud, had an accent that made her wet with every word he spoke, and he seemed like a true gentleman. The complete opposite of Bobby.

  And he could cook.

  A waitress brought a round of whiskey shots to the table. Eileen couldn’t help but notice how Bobby eyed the girl with outright lust. How could he do that right in front of her, and the entire team? It was clear, he didn’t give a shit about her feelings being his girlfriend, or the fact she was his boss.

  Bursting with anger and resentment, she looked away and tried to think of something else. Again, she glanced at Ty—expecting him to be staring at the waitress’ tits in that skimpy tank top—only to discover his attention lay elsewhere.

  He’s staring at me like that again. Why does he make me so hot?

  Her heart kathumped, and she turned away.

  Her father swayed in his chair beside Ty, his face red from too much drink and eyes glazed over.

  “Pop, you’re gonna pass out.” An instant headache pulsed behind her eyes. Why couldn’t she just have one night to enjoy without playing babysitter?

  “Nah.” He swiped his hand out in dismissal, knocking over a full shot glass. Whiskey splashed across the table surface. And just when she thought nobody seemed to notice, Ty reached over and took away the other shot.

  Her father glared at him. “I've been drinking whiskey long before any of you fools were born.”

  She shared an amused glance with Ty.

  “Let the old man do what he wants. Besides, the party’s just getting started!” Bobby hollered, grabbing a shot glass and throwing it back. Jennifer giggled from her seat across the table and did the same. But she choked on the strong drink and turned red. Like a teenager on her first outing, the girl pounded the table with her fist and screamed.

  “Fuck, yeah! Take it down, baby!” Bobby cheered.

  Eileen groaned. Now she’d have to take care of Pop and Bobby. She had enough shit on her plate and knew too well what he was like when booze ruled his bloodstream. Having him try to seduce her in a drunken stupor wasn’t her idea of a romantic night.

  “Do you race, Eileen?” Ty asked, raising his voice above the others.

  “Nah, little LeeLee don’t do anything fun,” Bobby interrupted.

  The expression Ty gave him was nothing short of murderous, and it gave her a little ego boost. Still, it made the situation even more awkward.

  Having seen and heard enough, she got up and went over to her father, who was now unable to hold his head up straight. Leaning down, she whispered, “Let me take you home, Pop. You know they won’t let you sleep in the bar.”

  He burped and then eyed Ty. “See what I—hiccup—go through? My girl here is always frettin’ and whinin’….”

  “That’s not fair.” She sighed, embarrassed by his behavior.

  Ty chuckled and smiled at the old man. “Whining or not, your daughter is right, and she’s the boss, too.”

  She mouthed thank you to him, needing all the help she could get.

  “Fuckin’ hell. Fine.” Her dad stood up, pushed his chair against the table, and almost toppled her over when he fell forward.

  Ty got up right away and gripped Jonnie’s elbow, holding him steady. Eileen noticed Bobby was deep in conversation with Jennifer, and it pissed her off knowing he just wanted the money Pop paid him to race. But her father didn’t realize that, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him.

  “I’m taking Pop home,” she shouted to Bobby.

  He thrust his palm up to silence her, and continued his conversation with Jennifer.

  “I’ll help you get him to the car,” Ty said.

  Embarrassed, she didn’t look at him. “Thank you.”

  They dragged Jonnie out of the bar and into the parking lot to her Camaro. Pop bounced between them, tripping over his own feet.

  “Tell my boy not to worry about me,” he slurred. “My baby will get me home.”

  Eileen exchanged a worried glanced with Ty but said nothing. When they reached the car, she opened the passenger door, and her father fell onto the passenger seat. She reached over and clicked the seat belt over him before pushing the door closed with a heavy sigh.

  Eileen closed her eyes and leaned against the car. For once she’d like to enjoy a nice, sensible evening where she wasn’t playing caretaker. Since her mother died, all she did was work and take care of everyone else.

  “You need a vacation.” Ty’s smooth voice cut through the silence.

  When she opened her eyes, he stood so close he could lower his head and kiss her. “Are you saying I look rough?”

  That notorious smile made her stomach flutter. “Nah. You could have the weight of the world on your shoulders and still be hot. But you can take on just so much before you fall apart.”

  He was right, and he seemed to care for her. The guy was little more than a stranger, and yet, she felt like she’d known him for years.

  Awkward silence dragged on between them.

  He dug his hands into his jean pockets. That single movement made her realize this was the first time she’d seen him without coveralls hiding his physique. Blue jeans in a classic cut provided just enough proof he must have lean legs and a firm ass. A white button-up shirt accentuated his broad shoulders and dark skin. His jaw was clean-shaven and his hair layered in cornrows. But it was those dark eyes she couldn’t stop staring at. They seemed to say so much without revealing anything at all.

  “You sure you want to leave Bobby here? I could take your dad home.”

  “He can take care of himself, but thank you anyway.”

  He didn’t need to know she worried about Bobby, too. She was the co-owner of a racing team and held everything in check. He didn’t need to know her life unraveled a bit more each day, like a frayed rope.

  He stepped closer and leaned down, but when she realized his intention, she turned her face, and his lips brushed the corner of her mouth. Instant heat spiked through her, and even though she ached to kiss him back, she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t cheat on Bobby.

  He pulled away. “I’m sorry. I…. Never mind.”

  She stared at his back while he strode off, his head low, shoulders slumped. The air in her lungs rushed out. It hurt to have him walk away.

  When the bar door closed behind him, she decided to ignore
the attraction she felt from now on. Even though the thought of being with him came to mind more and more each day, it would be best for them both not to act on it. Bad enough she’d slept with and dated the team’s lead driver, redoing her love life all over again with a crew guy seemed worse.

  When she took her seat at the wheel, Pop’s loud snores and whiskey breath filled the confined space. With a heavy heart and more questions clouding her mind, Eileen turned the ignition and slammed the beast into gear, squealing the tires as she sped out of the parking lot.

  Her father swayed, knocking his head against her shoulder during a sharp turn. He grumbled and pushed himself upright. “Where you takin’ me, LeeLee? Is it show time? Show me what ya got—” And gagged on that last word.

  She cringed. “Please don’t puke. I’m taking you home to bed.”

  He made a face like a petulant child. “I don’t want to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because your mother—hiccup—isn’t there.”

  She glanced at him. For the first time in a long time, she was reminded of how lonely he must be. After her mother had died of cancer, her father had become a different person. After retirement, the passion he’d felt for driving seemed to dwindle with every gulp from the bottle. It hurt her to think what he must be feeling.

  “You should go out more often, Pop. Start dating. I know you miss Ma. Hell, I miss her, too. But we have to keep living just like she would want us.”

  “Bah.” He swung his hand out, and a finger hooked into her loop earring.

  When the loop ripped out, she screamed and swerved. Searing pain burned through her earlobe. The car spun around, fishtailing on the pavement until they came to a sudden stop against the curb. Vehicles honked and veered past.

  Determined to fight the pain in her ear, she gritted her teeth and tried to think of something else while she gripped the steering wheel.

 

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