by Fox, Sutton
There wasn’t any way for Annie to know what she’d said, or what train of thought left the station in Morgan’s mind. She’d have to put it away for now, but she knew there wouldn’t be any going back. When time allowed, she’d examine it, as she always did.
The rain slowed to a dull roar, cradling their world in darkness. Annie sat back on her heels, yawned hugely and blinked sleepy eyes in her direction. “I’m tired, is Daddy coming soon?”
Saved by the mercurial nature of children, Morgan slipped Annie off the seat. “Why don’t you sit on the couch and I’ll sit with you.” The sleepy-eyed child wobbled the few steps to the sofa and sat, taking off first one shoe and then the other.
Morgan grabbed the moccasin and placed it back in its drawer. She’d think about that another day. Her worries could wait. Annie needed her at the moment. She sat down easily next to Annie and covered them both with one of her mom’s old quilts.
Her mom had put them there to keep everyone wrapped in a warm hug when she wouldn’t be around to do it herself. This was a great comfort to Morgan and the crew. They loved the quilts.
“How about if we lay down for a bit? That’ll make the time go by faster and your daddy will be here before you know it.”
Annie immediately tipped herself sideways. Morgan moved the inert child closer to the front edge and spooned behind her with her rear against the back of the sofa. She wrapped her arm over Annie’s stomach, holding her close.
The pounding in her head eased as she inhaled the soapy fresh scent of little girl. Her heart filled and secretly thrilled to feel a child held in arms too long empty. Needs never acknowledged were met.
Rain slowed, softened the rough edges of evening. It allowed sleep to sweep in, smooth their furrowed brows, and carry them silently away.
*
Barely an hour later, Tyler swung open the door of the hauler and stopped short. The sight of Morgan sleeping snuggled around his daughter like the Madonna made his heart flutter in his chest.
Strange fulfillment gripped him. The vision of contentment they presented brought comfort to his battered spirit. Somehow he knew this image would stand engraved on his heart and stay with him always.
He stepped up inside and shut the door quietly behind him. A few paces brought him to the edge of the sofa where he knelt down, face-to-face with sleeping angels.
Morgan’s cropped dark curls wrapped with Annie’s sunshine blonde ones, their faces both sublime in sleep. He didn’t want to wake them. He felt as though he could sit here, serenely, the rest of his days and watch over them.
Where had that come from? Never mind. He didn’t have time for miracles, let alone the courage it took to face one. Lust did not a good wife make. He knew that from the first time. The flicker of warmth in his chest didn’t feel like it had the first time.
With Cindy, it had been hot. A flash of heat, a flare of lust, then she’d given him nothing but cold shoulders. Morgan made him feel different. Warm, like balmy breezes on a sandy beach, warm. He felt as though he could bask in it all of his days.
Whoa boy, that scared the crap out of him. More complications he didn’t need. Still, he felt driven to know her. Despite his better judgment, he wanted to know what made her smile, what made her cry.
She was funny, and honest. He’d watched her over and over be fair to her crew and helpful to her competitors. Always pleasant to her fans, she smiled and joked with them, no matter her mood. Even so, she carried a hint of deep sorrow around in eyes the color of fine Honduran mahogany, a rich, deep brown.
Wrapped tight as ol’ number seven’s oak whiskey barrels. No doubt about it. But why? The depth of her fascinated him. She had so many layers.
“Wake up, sleepy heads.” He stroked Morgan’s silky hair and ran his hand lightly across Annie’s cheek. “Time for dinner.”
Brown eyes opened slowly and blinked owlishly at him. Recognition dawning, Morgan sat up quickly, startling Annie.
Small hands reached out frantically. “Mommmmyyyy!”
She cried out and sat up, reaching for Morgan. Trapped between the frightened child and the back of the couch, she simply took the child into her arms, stroked her hair.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
Morgan rocked her and murmured softly. She looked over Annie’s head to Tyler. Her raised eyebrows spoke volumes, asked dozens of questions.
Tyler looked her straight in the eyes. “Later.”
Annie was his first concern. He reached out to grasp Annie’s shoulder. “Hey there, angel Annie. Sorry to frighten you. It’s time to wake up, sleepy head.”
The smooth southern sound of Tyler’s voice brought the child to life. She spun out of Morgan’s arms and into his with a squeal of delight. “Daddy!”
“Hey, pretty girls, let’s go eat. Are you hungry?”
Annie hugged his neck and wrapped her legs around his middle as he stood up.
He held her on his hip with one arm and reached out to Morgan with the other. “Are you ready?”
“Uh, oh.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Just let me find a brush.” Heat sizzled between them as she gripped his hand and stood up.
Tickled by a feather of interest, Tyler looked down at her. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll drive with the windows down. It’s great out, now that it’s stopped raining.” He stepped to the door, Annie still wrapped around him.
“Okay, I’m coming already,” she groused at him, sticking out her tongue. On the way out, she grabbed a red ball cap hanging on a hook beside the door and shoved it on her head.
*
“I passed this great place on the way to the track yesterday. It’s one of Annie’s favorites. You don’t really mind eating pizza?”
“No, pizza’s fine.” Morgan could chow New York style with the best of them. “It’s one of the three food groups. It’s good for you.” At Tyler’s questioning glance she continued, “Yeah, three. The other two are caffeine and chocolate.”
“That’s good, Daddy. Food groups are good for you.” Annie chortled from the back seat.
Morgan smiled as Tyler rolled his eyes in consternation.
Her stomach did a slow spin when they pulled into the parking lot of a popular kid’s restaurant highlighted by a sign with a big gray mouse. Never. Never would she have ever dreamed this would be it.
“Daddy, Cheesies!” Annie wiggled as much as her seatbelt would allow. “Can we play games? Can Morgan play too?”
It’s only a place to eat. Get a grip, Blade. She knew she had to face this sometime. It might as well be now. Unwilling to dampen Annie’s obvious excitement, she unbuckled her seatbelt and got slowly out of the car. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and turned, like she might if she were facing a firing squad, and headed toward the building.
*
Flashing lights and the noise of more than a few excited children assaulted their senses. Kids ran in every direction across the worn red carpeting.
Tyler stood behind Morgan in line, an energetic Annie bouncing up and down beside him. They moved forward and Morgan stopped abruptly to avoid running into a pair of children dashing around the line of patrons, playing hide-and-seek with their friends. He nearly ran into the back of her and grabbed her shoulder for balance.
The smell of her captured his senses. Roses. The fragrance engulfed him, deep, dewy and seductive. The scent made him want to touch, to taste, awakening uncivilized hungers his body recognized, even as his mind denied them.
It caught him unaware. He raised his head and sniffed, like a tawny-haired lion scenting its mate. Unsure of her response, yet driven by primal instinct into pursuit.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” He removed his hand from her shoulder, resisting the urge to sniff it. What was up with him? Years had passed since high school hormones.
Morgan smiled, her brown eyes sparkling. “No problem, I had to stop for oncoming traffic.”
She looked better now. When they’d pulled into the
parking lot, he’d seen her face pale and wondered at the cause. She had come in slowly, a slightly fearful look in her eyes, melded with the haunting sadness.
“Are you okay? You look like you don’t feel well.” His voice softened with concern as they moved through the line and placed their order.
She wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, looking down and to the left, then over at some children laughing. “I’m fine. I just had a bit of an upset. Nothing to worry about. By the way, why did Annie cry in her sleep earlier?”
He gave her credit for deflection, for sure. Her posture and the eye movement said clearly enough, Let’s not talk about me. I won’t tell you the truth anyway. It was his job to read people and he excelled at it. Curiosity piqued him. Experience reminded him to save it for another day.
They sat across from each other in a shiny, black vinyl booth, sipping sodas. Annie wandered over to the ball cage to play in the stacks of primary colored spheres.
“She’s had some trouble with nightmares since Cindy and I divorced a few years ago. Her mother is unable to be part of her life anymore.” He took another sip of his soda and watched Annie slide down the slide, laughing as she fell into the piles of balls. “Her therapist told me this is one of the few ways she can express her grief, at her age.”
Empathy softened her warm brown eyes. “I’m so sorry. It must make you feel helpless.”
“Yeah. It does. Especially when it happens in the middle of the night.” Now why had he told her that? He barely knew her.
The waiter arrived with the pizza and paper plates on a plastic tray. Tyler served up the slices of hot cheese pizza and called out to Annie. She ignored him. He glared at his only child, willing her to come and eat.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get her.” Morgan got up and walked over to the ball cage, slipped off her shoes, opened the door and climbed in.
He sat and stared in amazement when she grabbed Annie around the waist and tickled her. Both of them fell down laughing, buried by the colored globes.
Never in his life had he seen a woman so comfortable with herself. She didn’t seem to be concerned about her hair, her looks or any of that. A far cry from the women he’d dated.
He briefly remembered Shelly, or was it Kelly? What he kept in mind most were long tanned legs, a model figure and a whiny voice complaining about not wanting to go out in the rain for fear of messing up her hair and makeup. Ugh. Phony. He’d given up quickly, told her she didn’t have to worry and left. The thought made him chuckle out loud, thinking about her surprised gasp of outrage.
“I won! I won!” Annie’s excited voice screeched a high note. “I get to give you the shoe! You said!” She slid quickly into the booth across from Tyler.
“You did, you are so fast.” Morgan sat next to her, laughing. She bit into her pizza, the look on her face one of pure bliss. To her it seemed to be a gourmet feast. “And yes, you can give me the shoe. First thing tomorrow.”
“What shoe?” Tyler eyed them both. “What devious plans are the two of you making up now?”
Morgan batted her eyes at him and grinned in false innocence, “Not a thing. I promised Annie, if she came back and ate she could give me my good luck charm tomorrow at the track.”
“You use a shoe for good luck?” He wondered what size it was. “Where do you put it?”
Her eyes wouldn’t quite meet his. “It’s small. It’s just something I keep in my pocket. No big deal.”
More secrets. What could she possibly be hiding that was so important to her? He quickly reviewed her resume in his mind and came up blank. This definitely required more research.
“Won’t you get in trouble, taking one of the contestants out to dinner?”
He had to hand it to her. She’d mastered the art of changing the subject. Unwilling to spoil the mood, he played along.
“Maybe. I thought about it. You did keep Annie this afternoon, and we haven’t done anything we aren’t supposed to. This has nothing to do with racing, so I don’t really see a problem. It’s just my way of paying you back.”
“Don’t worry about it. I still owe you a pair of shoes, remember?”
He laughed. “Oh yeah. I guess you’d better pay for dinner the next time.”
“Next time?”
*
Annie slept soundly in the backseat of the car like only the very young can do, with her head tilted over sideways. She snored lightly and drooled a little on her pink shirt. Morgan remembered falling asleep in her parents’ car many nights after going to the drive-in movies they loved.
The stars were brilliant diamonds in the darkened sky. All threat of rain had disappeared. A cool evening breeze caressed her skin and gave her a little shiver. Or was it the man?
She shut the car door quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping child. Tyler got out just as carefully and walked her up to the steps of the hauler.
“Thanks for dinner. I enjoyed it.” Astonishment filled her as she realized she really meant it. It had been lots of fun playing and laughing with both of them.
“You could’ve let up and let me win at skee ball, you know.”
She could hear the smile in his voice.
“Never.” She laughed, turning to smile up at him. “I wouldn’t be here if I let people win.” She poked him in the chest for emphasis. “Sir, that is a foreign concept in my world.”
Moonlight burnished his hair to russet gold. The light wind wrapped the scent of cinnamon and vanilla around her senses. His face bathed in the pale glow of light, she watched his eyes darken and heat.
He grasped her hand and pulled her close. Fire bloomed in her chest and spread low and deep. Her nipples became hard buds filled with anticipation.
This is wrong! You could lose everything! Her mind screamed at her to no avail. Her senses on autopilot, she leaned into him, standing on her toes to reach the full lips he offered.
Instinct loosed her primal need, washed away her logic, and filled her with the sharp claws of animal passion.
His arms came around her, stroking her back through her shirt, raising her against him, fanning the towering flames. Their lips met with frightening intensity, no hesitation on either part. Tongues danced, volcano hot, ready and willing, clashing together, turning both of them to molten lava.
She wrapped one arm around his neck, pulling him down to her, the other around his waist, fingers searching under his shirt for hot flesh, pulling him in close. She rubbed herself against him, fanatical in her desire.
His hands flowed hot down her back to cup her up tight and rock her against him. A moan slipped from her dampened lips.
Soul to soul, her inner beast recognized his own, lioness to lion, yearning to mate.
Dimly she heard the roar of a car engine. The flashing strobe of headlights covered them for an instant in blinding white light.
Surprise tore them apart. She felt bereft, cool air covering her body where scalding warmth had been. She stared at Tyler in shock as he stood, eyes wide, mouth half-open, gaping like a fish out of water.
He ran a trembling hand through his hair and looked around. She could see the moment realization dawned on him. They were standing in the wide open spaces acting like two love-starved, hormone-high teenagers.
The heat in his eyes cooled, his lips formed a determined line and his hands went into his pockets. He backed away from her like she had the plague.
A brief salute to his brow, a nod and he was gone. Driving away like the devil herself chased him.
Shaking legs would no longer hold her up, so Morgan sat down hard on the steps, letting the cool darkness soothe her.
Stunned at her feral reaction, she touched her lips with tender fingertips and tasted the salt tang of blood. She wondered how long it would take for the rest of her body to turn into a pile of smoking ash.
Chapter 10
Morning sun, rising over the grandstands, gilded the remaining five contestants with golden strokes. It warmed them as they waited on the pit wall for Butch Cameron and
his entourage.
A restless night made Morgan push her sunglasses up snug to hide her tired eyes from the seeking sun and the cameras. She tried not to think about last evening’s escapade with Tyler and what it might or might not mean, ground she’d already covered thoroughly in the early pre-dawn hours.
She couldn’t figure out which was worse, the fact that his kiss had touched her in ways none ever had, or the part she really hated—he’d left her aroused and wanting more. Either way, she pushed it to the back of her mind for later. For now, she had work to do.
“Hey Eric, you ready for all of this?” Morgan stood behind the other contestants as they sat on the wall. Each had brought some of their own personal safety gear. Helmets rested next to them like a row of turtle shells, with gloves tucked inside waiting to be used.
“Oh yeah. I’m ready. You?”
“More than.” Morgan scanned the area and noted the absence of one of them.
“Where’s Jim?”
Eric and Kyle rolled their eyes at her, with Kyle speaking first. “Where do you think he is? He’s right where his brown-nosing butt fits best.”
Butch appeared from around the corner of the garage, headed toward them, followed closely by his wife, Lacey, and an animated Jim O’Bannon.
Gesturing with his hands and talking a blue streak, Jim brimmed with self-importance. He thought he could win this contest by the force of his personality alone.
“What a jerk. Hey, Morgan, you wouldn’t happen to have that little friend of yours with you, would you?” Eric asked, his expression a mixture of curiosity and expectation.
“Little friend.” She had no idea what he meant. “What little friend?”
“You know the rubber one somebody left for you at the last race in Sunflower, Kansas.”
“Oh, yeah, I do. It’s in the hauler.” She couldn’t help but be inspired. One of the few things racers liked almost as much as racing were the practical jokes they played on each other. Someone had left it for her a couple years ago with a note attached saying she’d need one to run with the big boys. Initially it embarrassed her, but she’d gotten over it. Later on she’d discovered by chance O’Bannon was the culprit. Then she’d kept it around for laughs. And as a reminder of just how good she’d need to be.
