by Larkin Rose
Except the jobs had led her to the actresses and actors, the rich, the famous, all through word of mouth. It seemed she had simply traded demanding riches for hysterical bridezillas in the end. Those that were headed to fame could be worse than a frazzled bride at times. Dealing with them made her never want money.
Or if she was going to have it, she wanted to be just like Billy. Other than living in a gated community in a fairly large house, you’d never know the man had a fat bank account. He still drove an old pickup truck and loved the flea markets where the best bargains could always be found. And he was generous with his fame. He helped people. Gave money to charities, as well as his time. He was a damn good guy who felt blessed to have the life he did. Just another reason why she was so in love with him.
“We have a pit stop to make,” Billy said.
“Hope it’s quick. I just got a text from my precious angel asking if you were doing the allowed five miles over the speed limit instead of the illegal ten you normally do.” Lacy giggled.
“I do not.” He glanced down at the speedometer and then let off the pedal when Gabby’s statement proved correct.
“I won’t rat you out.”
He gave her a brief glance with his lip curled. “Yes, you will.”
She smiled. “Of course I will. That’s my girl.”
He smirked and settled into his five miles over the limit.
Several minutes later, he pulled off the exit ramp down into the heart of Pittsburgh. This never got old. The lights. The high-rises. The feeling of home.
“I know, before you say it, you love this damn place.”
“I do.” She pressed her face against the window to look up at the buildings. There was no other place like it.
Billy finally pulled into a parking lot, and Lacy looked out to see police cars.
“Why are we at the detention center?”
“Be right back.” Billy quickly hopped out of the car without answering.
Lacy got out, leaned against the car, and lit a cigarette. A habit she’d picked up a few years out of college, after a grueling afternoon with a film director and part of his crew for a photo shoot. Or rather, those so-called people who were headed for fame. She couldn’t even remember the name of the movie they had been shooting. They’d been the most unprofessional bunch of dimwits she’d ever encountered. Whining, bitching amongst each other about who should be toward the front, who should wear what outfit. It had been the most exhausting five hours of her life, and on one of their mini tantrum breaks, she’d found the quietest female of the bunch alone in the parking lot with a plume of smoke above her head.
“Those are bad for you,” Lacy said, irritated but thankful to have a few minutes’ peace away from those irritating voices.
The woman flipped open the pack and shoved it toward Lacy. “When I smoke one of these, those assholes live another hour.”
Lacy took in her serious expression, then plucked one from the pack.
She’d been smoking ever since. Fact was, cigarettes gave her a natural calm. It was like having a Zen moment. Several lives had been saved with the flick of her Bic.
The doors to the jail opened, and Billy walked out followed by a very fit woman wearing stonewashed jeans and black blazer over a pale gray T-shirt. Her brown hair was a sexy mess. She looked like someone who had just crawled out of bed instead of released from a jail cell. Her hands were shoved in her front pockets and her head was down like the whole world was bearing down on her. Given that she was leaving a jailhouse, maybe that was true.
They approached the car, and the woman looked up.
Crisp green eyes met Lacy’s. Wow. Kip Sellars in the flesh. She was more gorgeous, far more handsome, in person. The tabloid shots of her mischief gave no justice to the square jawline and stern posture. She was hot as sin. And knew it.
She was recently suspended from NASCAR before her very first race as the newest rookie. Or so the article in the magazine had said. She was reckless, hated by every other racer on the track, and appeared to not care about her behavior or the people around her who took offense at the bad girl. Had it not been for her nasty attitude, or sleeping with a married woman, Lacy would actually respect her desire to play by her own rules.
Hell, hadn’t Lacy snubbed her nose at those who didn’t like her style of photography many years ago? It wasn’t in her nature to check other people’s choices. Live and let live was her motto. But when it came to disrespecting the hand that fed you, she drew the line. That was exactly what this woman was doing. Biting the sponsors’ hands. The few sponsors she had left on her side, if Lacy recalled the article correctly, were the only ones who saw potential left in her.
And that potential was incredible. She had a smooth grace on the track. A grace that made people notice her. A grace that had the rest of the pack at attention. They feared her. As well they should. If she could have gotten her shit together, she could have been one of the greats. Of course, she wouldn’t share that knowledge with Billy, who believed that she stayed far, far away from the racing grapevine.
Sellars settled her sights on the beautiful Lacy. Billy’s best friend. The one he couldn’t stop rambling about. The very woman he had talked about like she was some kind of Egyptian goddess. Not far from the truth now that she was staring down over her. She’d never seen anything more divine, especially the intrigue floating in Lacy’s brown eyes. Billy never mentioned how delicious she was. Wearing nothing more than a pair of skinny jeans, chocolate ankle boots, and a beige satin shirt hanging delicately off one shoulder. No bra. Her nipples strained against the fabric. Sellars mentally hummed with the thought of their hardness against her tongue.
She wanted to taste her. Dammit. She wanted it more than anything right this second.
How in the world was Darlene okay with her husband having such a luscious piece of ass for a best friend? It intrigued her. Fascinated her, in fact. In her world, women and men weren’t best friends. They were either fuck buddies or constantly caught up in the jealousy of their spouses. There wasn’t a middle ground. But in their case, they’d found it. Owned it. Cherished it.
Better question was, how would Billy feel about Sellars adding his best friend as a notch on her bedpost? God knew, she would. Soon. Very, very soon.
Lacy shifted to ease the sting of need between her thighs. Sellars was practically eating her alive in that carnal stare, deliberately inspecting her body.
She spoke just to break the gathering of wet heat climbing between them. “Ahh. Kip Sellars. I see the rumors are true. You truly do possess a fetish for orange jumpsuits.”
Images of sexy poses flashed through Lacy’s mind. A throwback black and white striped jumpsuit with the top half cradled around Sellars’s hips, her wrists cuffed and crossed, hands covering naked breasts, with a fuck you growl on her lips. Another with her sprawled across the hood of a police cruiser, an eat my dust snarl dominating her expression, and her middle finger to the world.
Wasn’t that basically what she was doing every time she got thrown in the slammer? Wasn’t that the personality captured in every tabloid headline?
Oh, what she could do with that delicious piece of butch ass.
Billy cleared his throat. “Sellars, this is Lacy.”
Sellars gave a curt nod, and Lacy felt a twinge of wet need stir between her thighs again.
“Lacy, meet Sellars. Your new client.”
Lacy coughed with the sudden exhale of smoke and swung her gaze on Billy. “Over my dead body. You have lost your fucking mind!”
Sellars looked shocked as she glanced toward Billy. “You didn’t tell her? That’s sick, dude.”
“Dude? You still say dude?” Lacy interrupted that comical stare. “That explains a few things.”
“What explanations would those be?” Sellars crossed her arms.
Lacy looked over Sellars’s shoulder to see Billy’s pleading eyes. Damn him. “Nothing.”
“Oh no. Don’t back down now, cute thing. I’d love to hear the speculat
ion about my life from a woman who tucked her tail between her legs and ran until the ocean on the opposite side of the map stopped her, who doesn’t know a damn thing about me except the crap you read in those lying tabloids.”
Billy grumbled in the background, and Lacy reminded herself to deal with his confession later.
She stepped forward, stirred by the mention of her past, or the reason why she’d ran.
“Ah hell,” Billy mumbled.
“The whole fucking world knows all about you, Kip Sellars. You display your true colors so vibrantly, after all. You’re a drunk, a womanizer, home wrecker, lawbreaker, albeit one of the best drivers I’ve ever set eyes on, with some sick, twisted need to sabotage your own career.” She stepped closer, damned if she would back down or break down from those anger-filled eyes. “I couldn’t give a shit what you do with your life or your desire to fuck it up. I don’t give a rat’s ass what politician’s wife you fuck or what public place you choose to fuck her. I couldn’t care less about your liquid poison habit or your illegal need for speed. What I do care about is Billy, his accomplishments, his reputation, and hanging out with the likes of you, having to come rushing to save your pathetic ass from a jailhouse, is sure to tarnish his pure image. That, oh twisted one, I won’t tolerate. And I sure won’t contribute to the delinquency of stupid by wasting my precious time on a hopeless case. Find someone else to polish your egotistical image because whatever you’re paying won’t ever be enough to work with a train wreck like you.”
Lacy stood her ground while Sellars stared hard at her.
Billy had already hung his head.
“No amount of money?”
“Not even a million bucks.”
A smile finally twitched on Sellars lips. “That’s cool. It’s your loss. But you’re wrong about one thing, sexy.”
“Just one?”
“She was a race car driver’s wife. I detest politics.”
“Fuck you.”
Sellars took a casual step back, her smile half-cocked and sexy. “Wow. Billy was right about you.”
Lacy lifted her chin. “Oh yeah? How so?”
That smile deepened. A single dimple cut into her right cheek as she leaned forward. “I call shotgun.”
“I’m driving!” Billy blurted.
Lacy was left with her crotch a wet mess while they piled into the car.
What had just happened? Had she made it clear that she would have no part of this revamping bullshit? No amount of photo shoots or wardrobe changes could fix that woman.
She had said no, right?
Out loud?
Chapter Four
Lacy squealed from the back seat as soon as she spotted Gabby perched on the front porch in her Betty Boop bathrobe Lacy had shipped to her for her last birthday. The very one her daddy said was too teenagery for her. The exact reason Lacy bought it as well as the pajamas and slippers that matched.
She was a living doll with her hair up in a messy bun, her mama’s striking dark eyes full of happiness, and her daddy’s bright smile plastered on her face.
Her heart skipped as Billy finally came to a stop short of the garage. “Get out. I know you’re dying,” Billy said.
Lacy threw open the door at the same time Gabby bolted off the porch.
“Aunt Lacy!” Gabby ran across the plush green yard and jumped into Lacy’s arms.
“My smartass angel bear!” Lacy feathered her face with kisses. “I have missed the living shit out of you!”
“See, Daddy. I told you it would take her less than five minutes to start adding to my college fund,” Gabby said over Lacy’s shoulder.
Lacy put her down and held her at arm’s length, taking in the maturity already transforming her little girl features. From her long dark lashes to her flawless skin, she was beautiful. “Did you make him shake on that bet? And how much did you wager?”
Gabby gave her a big grin, and Lacy could almost see the incredible woman she would become one day. If only Lacy could protect her from every heartbreak she would endure until one person was strong enough, kind enough, and open enough, to endure the whirlwind she would likely be. “There are three things a lady should always keep to herself. Her love life, which I’m not allowed to have until I’m thirty-five because my daddy lives in the dinosaur age. Her income. Which means I can’t reveal my profit.”
Lacy kissed her cheek hard. “And the third?”
“Her next move. Never reveal your next move.”
“That’s my baby girl.” Lacy pulled Gabby into the crook of her arm and turned to find Billy and Sellars on the sidewalk watching them, her luggage dangling from their grasp, a look of longing in Sellars’s eyes. Her insides tightened at the blatant stare. “First female president standing right here. Better grab your autographs now, losers and gentlemen. They’ll be worth a mint years from now.”
Gabby scoffed and bumped Lacy with her hip. “Don’t be ugly. Sellars is cool.”
“Sorry, kiddo.” She let her gaze slip down Sellars before she scrunched her nose in distaste. “You know I don’t play well with others.”
Sellars ignored the fuck you expression on Lacy’s face. Right now she was in awe of her and Gabby’s relationship. Maybe even jealous. It was adorable and fun. Unlike her own childhood. Her parents hadn’t been loving or nurturing. They expected her and her siblings to draw the chalk line before they walked the straight and narrow path. To follow in their medical footsteps. To become doctors. Surgeons. To practice medicine in any capacity.
No deviations. No alternatives. And in the process, no hugs or kisses or tender moments. No encouraging words. They wanted their children to always behave. To always do as told. They wouldn’t tolerate sibling rivalry or backyard wrestling. In other words, they weren’t allowed to be kids. Wouldn’t be caught dead playing in their Sunday best. They were to obey every command, at every moment. No wonder they shunned Sellars so much. She refused to obey anyone’s commands except her own.
Until she fell in love with Sarah. Obeying her commands had been her pleasure.
As she stood back and watched Gabby and Lacy hug and tease as they walked toward the house, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d missed out on something important. Lacy wasn’t even blood to this family, yet she treated all of them like they were exactly that. Blood. The love was at surface level, blatant and carefree. The sight was moving, and it made her long for a childhood she could never have.
Would her life have turned out differently if she’d been allowed to stomp her foot? If she’d been allowed to have a feeling that showed on the outside? If they’d let her be herself, would she have been so hell-bent to do the opposite of what they said? Would she have considered becoming what they wanted if they’d just encouraged her? Was it that hard for a parent to be supportive of what their children wanted instead of the life they’d already instilled in them?
She would never know the answer. It had been almost five years since she’d spoken to her mother, and that phone call consisted of breaking the news that her sister had delivered baby number four. Her way of rubbing it in Sellars’s face that she would never have children of her own.
It had been even more years since she’d seen her father. Sellars was okay with that. Her parents were better off without the black sheep anyway.
To stop the bad memories from digging too deep, Sellars followed the group inside, suddenly feeling like the fifth wheel and out of her element, a reaction she normally never experienced. Because for the first time, she was out of her element. Literally. This was Lacy’s family. Billy was Lacy’s best friend. Darlene and Gabby, all hers to love and cherish. Sellars was the outsider here. Always the outcast. Always on the outside looking in. She’d hardened herself to this reaction. Bricked herself against this emotion. Yet there it was once again, nudging at her anxiety, reminding her that even the mother that gave birth to her couldn’t love her for the person she was.
“So, how much money do you owe the swear jar now that Daddy got to introduce you
to Sellars?” Gabby asked, pulling herself up onto a stool at the kitchen counter. She tapped a mason jar with a pink ribbon wrapped around the lid, a tiny chalkboard on the face that read My aunt has a potty mouth. Does yours?
Before Lacy could answer, Gabby cut a sharp gaze to Sellars. “And in case you wondered, I most definitely noticed you didn’t come home last night, which either means your car broke down, which is about as likely as a meteor landing on this house for as much as you work on it, or you got into trouble again, which is against the rules of your suspension.”
Sellars opened her mouth to respond, but Gabby shushed her by snapping her index and thumb together.
“Aunt Lacy is here to set you straight if you haven’t completely demolished your chance of ever racing again in the last few hours.” Gabby narrowed her gaze, daring Sellars to say another word. “We’ll discuss your nightly adventures later.”
Billy snickered, and Sellars was positive heat was crawling across her cheeks. She’d never met a more opinionated child in her life. Or parents who allowed her to be herself, who loved her regardless of her blatant honesty.
If Lacy wasn’t still hung up on the first sentence, she’d be proud of the little smart mouth Gabby. “What do you mean, came home? As in, here, right here, home?”
Gabby inched the swear jar in Lacy’s direction. “Yes. Didn’t Daddy tell you? Sellars is staying here while her apartment is being renovated.”
Lacy cut a death glare on Billy. He turned away. “It appears your daddy has forgotten to tell me a lot.”
“Since that little vein is popping out on the side of your neck.” Gabby pushed the jar closer to Lacy. “I will have to require payment up front before you continue this conversation.”
Lacy kept her gaze locked on Billy, wondering what he saw in Sellars that would make him so secretive. Normally, he wouldn’t hide anything from her. Normally, all information was laid out on the table. The ball in her court, so to speak.
She wasn’t a damsel. He never treated her as such. Yet right now, his refusal to make eye contact, said there was more to this story, a deeper reason he had taken a loser under his wing, why he’d moved her into his home.
