by Amy Gregory
He always traveled. A lot. They always saw each other on the holidays, and she usually came to see him race a few times in January and February before the weather turned warmer, and the new season for the academy got underway.
The night she turned twenty-one, he’d been the one to pour her the first beer she ever drank. He’d been the one to teach her how to do a triple jump and land it smoothly. Dallas had been the one she’d called when she dented her dad’s truck, and the one who took her to the emergency room later that fall.
She’d been seventeen at the time and had broken her hand. Molly and Carter had been in town picking up a few things for the upcoming Thanksgiving dinner extravaganza Karen and James hosted every year. Each and every holiday was celebrated in grandeur, everyone coming together, baking, cooking, and eating together. This was in addition to the Sunday dinners, but he missed most of those and had for years. Dallas was grateful that those times she’d needed him and he’d actually been at home to run to her rescue. Alex had told everyone her hand injury was caused by a fluke fall from a bike. In reality, it was a boy who had given her trouble while she was shopping in town with Brody’s wife, Erin. She punched him, breaking his nose with one swing and also her hand. She still didn’t know he’d immediately called and told Carter the truth. Thankfully, she was the one who benefited from James Noland’s mini lessons in self-defense over the years.
The red lights disappeared completely from his view. The row of pines lining the main road blocked her from his line of sight. Dallas bent at the waist, his hands resting on his thighs, as his stomach threatened revenge on her behalf.
She’d always been his. He didn’t know how to describe it, but it was as if there was some higher power in the universe that had given her to him. It was Dallas who protected her. It was his job and he never questioned it.
That was just the way things were. He did it from afar for years. Spoiling her with his time when he was home.
Alex had always been easy to please—eager to catch a movie, ride on the academy’s track, or drive the countryside for hours with the radio blaring. It never mattered what they did, she was happy just to be with him. It was on one of their famous, late-night runs into town for ice cream that things changed. She hadn’t said anything differently, she wasn’t dressed any differently, and she never…ever acted any different. It was the damn phone in her purse that set him off.
A simple text. Just a few words she blew off with a roll of her eyes. Dallas didn’t—couldn’t. Alex hadn’t even responded. She hit delete and went back to their decade long argument over ice cream flavors without missing a beat.
The text had been from a boy who was enrolled at the academy. A man, actually. Alex was nineteen at the time, the man—twenty-six.
One unanswered text was all it took to change his entire life path. The buzz signaled the one text that left his mind reeling. An inferno inside of him erupted from out of nowhere. He gripped the steering wheel to keep his mouth from letting loose every thought that came to him. Something Dallas hadn’t seen until that night, was suddenly right in front of him in living color.
Alex had grown up.
The man vying for her attention that night was Dallas’s age at the time. That one text brought a host of feelings barreling down on him. Back then, he told himself there was no way he could feel what he was feeling. They were only friends. They had to be. She was too young. They weren’t related in any way, but their families were as close as blood.
It went on that way for the rest of that visit. Now she was twenty-three. Four years was a lot of time to grow, to change. Feelings he worked overtime to pretend didn’t exist, became harder and harder to ignore.
Except, protecting her wasn’t all he thought about doing with her these days.
CHAPTER TWO
She grew up wanting for absolutely nothing. At least, nothing money could buy. Her every need was attended to, and her every want provided. However, she was fiercely independent and took nothing for granted that her family or her last name offered her. Her years spent racing by her twin’s side were ones she looked back on wistfully—a magical time in their lives despite a few broken bones and stitches along the way.
The only place that topped that happiness was her home, and more specifically, the oversized table she was currently sitting at. Sunday dinners at her grandparent‘s had been a ritual that was several years older than she was. That gathering was a priority the entire family took seriously, and even death wasn’t an excuse for missing it. The only valid reason for an absence was, of course, racing.
Layered conversations, laughing and teasing swirled around her. Normally, she’d be right in the thick of it, taking on any man in the family who dared to debate her, purely for her own entertainment. She was educated and well versed on numerous subjects, and she never backed down from a challenge. Often, she’d take the opposing side, just for the sake of arguing. Alex ignored her family’s taunts claiming she should have gone to law school or into politics. The suggestion was as scary as it was crazy.
Her dad teased her non-stop about how she could single-handedly run the country, blind-folded, and with one hand tied behind her back.
Earlier, Alex spent the majority of the afternoon in the massive kitchen helping her grandmother, Karen and her mother, Molly and her two aunts, Honor and Emery, chop, grate, measure, bake and cook. Four almost empty wine bottles sat uncorked on the counter, proof of how much they enjoyed their time together. The women worked overtime to keep her spirits light while everyone effectively ignored the giant elephant in the room, but her heart wasn’t in it.
It hadn’t been earlier when they’d been baking, and it wasn’t now as she sat between her brother, Jack, who was home for a long weekend away from school, and her Uncle Brody. Her uncle quickly occupied the seat next to her that had been dedicated for twenty years to another man. Alex knew her uncle positioned himself there on purpose, and she appreciated the gesture, but the adjusted seating arrangement left Dallas sitting directly across from her and next to him was that girl…Heather. Every time she looked up, there was no choice but to see them together.
Seriously. What the fuck was he thinking?
That girl didn’t fit in. She just sat there, acting bored and offended by her father’s and uncles’ perverse sense of humor. It was the very sort of things that on any other given day would have brought Alex to tears laughing so hard her stomach muscles would hurt long after dessert, and had over the years more times that she could possibly count. Then they’d start getting in trouble with the women at the table, which only guaranteed all-out chaos would ensue. The volume of laughter usually rose, filling the large home, despite its enormous size. Her grandmother let it all go, at least until the first roll was chucked across the table—almost always courtesy of the patriarch himself, her grandfather, James.
After pushing the food around her plate for almost an hour, the sight of them was starting to turn her stomach.
Instead of engaging in the political debate that erupted between her father and her Uncle Jesse, she made a quiet get-away. Discreetly as possible, despite the wide-open layout of the main floor, she rinsed her plate and gently shut the dishwasher door so she didn’t draw attention to herself. Without looking back, she slipped out the door off the kitchen, exiting through the garage, and made her way to the track. There had never been a jealous bone in her body. Of course, she’d never been in a relationship before. Maybe love did that to a person. It made her feel ugly and hateful as she stood by the fence thinking negative thoughts about Heather. Shivering as the girl’s name came into her thoughts, Alex rolled her eyes and lowered her chin to rest on her arms. On the other hand, it was hard to feel sorry for Heather when she didn’t much give a rat’s ass about her feelings. Dallas was supposed to be hers. He always had been, or so she thought.
Propping her foot on the bottom rung of the fence, she stared out over the track. The security lights on the outbuilding of their shop and school offices cast a brigh
t glow for several feet. If she had been smart, she would have tried to make some sort of eye contact with her mother, letting her know she was going to go home. It was a long walk, but one she could do even though it’d be completely dark by the time she got halfway. Years of roaming every inch of the Noland property left an intricately detailed map ingrained in her head, memorized for life. Instead, she stayed, not wanting to be rude to her family. As she stood there, the sun gave way to the moon. The dark purple lining the horizon was the only evidence it left behind. She couldn’t help but feel her heart break. Not the earth-shattering pain of a sudden loss, or that at the mercy of death, but a slow, piece-by-painful piece kind of heartache.
The kind where emotions whirled around inside her, at war with one another. Feeling stupid, desperate, and confused, she tried to remember when she knew. There wasn’t some crystal clear moment. Not a black and white answer. Dallas had just always been hers. She never questioned it, never saw their ages as an obstacle, and until this week, she didn’t think he had either. Alex just knew Dallas would wait for her.
That was what hurt the most. Well, two things actually. Being wrong—and being empty.
For the first time she felt hollow and questioned her entire path. Her foot slipped, landing hard on the ground below the fence. She shook her head and closed her eyes. It was supposed to be Dallas. He would retire from racing and join the staff of the academy.
They were supposed to have the big white wedding. They’d spend their years teaching side-by-side as the fairy tale ending lived on around them.
There’d been no question in her mind over the years. All she knew was there wasn’t supposed to be a different woman in her spot by his side. Feeling the sting, she screwed her eyes tighter then swiped at the tears that fell, despite her best effort to prevent them.
The hand on her lower back made her flinch in surprise. She’d been so lost in her own world she hadn’t heard him approach. Without a word, she knew the scent, the hold was one she’d felt a million and one times.
Dallas.
She tried to be angry, to hold onto the feelings that made her flee the house in the first place. She couldn’t. At his touch, even through clothing, his warmth melted the ice in her veins that quickly formed during the last few minutes of solitude. Another tear—another swipe at it.
“Alex.”
She didn’t answer, instead she shifted her cheek to rest the opposite direction to avoid him.
“Alex, talk to me. Please.”
Suddenly his touch burned her, seared her. Jerking away from the source of pain left her standing face-to-face with him.
“You don’t love her, Dallas.” Her mouth fired off the accusation before her brain engaged. Either way, the words were spoken. His silence was deafening. The admission painful. However, she knew she’d been right, even without seeing the narrowing of his eyes or the flare of his nostrils. He’d never lied to her—ever. And she knew he couldn’t start now.
His mouth twisted, his brow knitted tighter. In the glow of the light from the shop, she saw his torment as he searched for words. He didn’t have to. Alex saw the answer in the gray eyes she knew so well. Her imaginary world had been just that—totally one-sided and in her head only. The security and love she’d felt from him over the years vanished, and the foundation of her world crumbled. The walls started to shift. Her heart was breaking, the cracks deepening at warp speed.
Her only choice—run.
Stepping away from the penetrating gray, she made a half turn, only getting an arm’s length away as he reached out to stop and spin her back. “Don’t you dare walk away from me, Alex.”
The command was crisp and the deep tone had her body reacting to his order. Frozen to her spot, she stood absolutely still. It could’ve been because of shock—it wasn’t. The pounding in her chest left her reeling. He held her tightly by her upper arms. Unable to move, she shivered in his hold.
Fire sparked again. “Don’t dare walk away? Excuse me? You have no right—”
“Stop. Now.”
Her eyes flared as she clenched her fists at her sides. “You made your choice.” She spat out as she twisted in his hold, trying to free herself.
He gave her a light shake, after a long minute she realized she was going nowhere until he decided to let her. Gritting her teeth and panting in anger, she glared at the man she’d spent a lifetime loving. It wasn’t anger she saw mirrored in his eyes.
“You’re too young.”
The lines deepened and his head tilted to the side as if he was pleading with her to understand. That wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever. “Bullshit! I’m twenty-three, Dallas. What’s your little friend? Twenty?”
“Stop it, Alex.”
Again, his voice stilled her, but only momentarily. “Damn it, Dallas. You stop. Look, I get it. I was stupid. I just always thought…never mind. Just let me go.”
“No.” He shook his head, frowning as pain crossed his face. “You’re just—”
“I know. You said it once. I’m not old enough. Whatever. I’m old enough to know you don’t always get what you want.”
Embarrassed, hurt and frustrated, she yanked out of his hold. Turning, she stepped away in the opposite direction, but not before she heard his last comment.
“That makes two of us.”
Stalling, her shoulders deflated. There was nothing more to say so she continued walking away. Away from her past, her present…and away from her future.
~~~
Nothing had gone right this week. The trip home for their family’s Fourth of July celebration spectacular had been one disaster after another. His sanctuary, his one place of rest, the one place he could just be, turned into a walk across glass at every turn.
Heather asked to fly home early, and he’d let her, silently thanking God for the reprieve. The trip back from the airport hadn’t eased his stress. Actually, it had been quite the opposite. Seeing the first section of white fence only succeeding in upping his anxiety.
The afternoon faded into evening, and Dallas knew his father would be coming back from his training session on the track at any time. Putting the note back down on the kitchen counter, he went to the refrigerator to grab a beer. His mother took his younger siblings into town, earlier. So for the time being, he had the house to himself. Just what he wanted. More quiet. More silence. More space for his subconscious to berate him.
For four years, Dallas thought his feelings were one-sided. Alex had never been a girly, flirty tease. There wasn’t a reason to be. She smoked the competition without effort. She was his counterpart in riding boots. Alex could fly around the academy track, holding her own against any rider, any time. Forget the students, she even made the guys who were ready to turn pro look like novices, and she preferred the challenge that the professional racers in her life offered her. Personally, he knew she preferred him. He was younger and took more risks than her father or uncles did these days, and she rose to accept anything he dished out. He’d never known another woman like her, and he knew he never would.
Waltzing around the pits of amateur and professional races alike, Alex turned heads. Not because she was looking for attention, as a matter-of-fact, she ignored the whistles and leers her looks garnered. Her long blonde, sun-streaked curls hung down to her lower back in a cascade of gold. Her ice-blue eyes were her father’s. When she was at a track it was to support him and the amateur racers from the academy. Or having spent a fair amount of years with her own ass on the seat of a bike waiting for the gate to drop, she was there to work. It was the reason the school was a success. Every trainer there had raced. Each one, respected in the industry in their own right and combined, had helped create a dynasty.
Thinking back over the years, reality smacked him with another hard truth. Dallas had never seen her with a boy her own age. She’d never spent time giggling over another rider at a race, never had a conversation in the pits he’d been present for that wasn’t business only. How could he have been so stu
pid not to see it?
The night she got that damn text, years before, was still so easy to see in his head. The feelings that roared to the surface in the truck that night were very real and very strong, but she had been too young at the time. He’d argued himself into a corner about their age difference. Dallas told himself the longing he read in her eyes was a figment of his imagination. He tried everything he could to box his feelings for Alex up and shove them to the back of his mind.
Until that look.
It wouldn’t leave him. Dallas didn’t even have to close his eyes to picture it, to remember it, to re-live it. That second in time when the world tilted on its axis. The moment Alex saw Heather. It was in that very moment he realized he had just made the worst mistake of his life. The haunted look of pain he saw reflected in her ice blues was vivid. He heard that exhale of air as if she was still standing by him right now. The sound made him feel as if he’d knocked the air out of her himself—with his own fists.
But it was that look that confirmed everything.
Dallas popped the top off the beer bottle, taking a long draw of the cold liquid. Sliding the trash can out of its hidden cabinet, he aimed the metal disk and tossed, only to miss. “Son of a bitch.”
“Glad we stuck to motocross.”
Shutting the cabinet with a huff, he bent down, trying to find the now missing beer cap. “Bite me, Dad.” He replied, his tone flat and short. The dark mood he’d been in was threatening to swallow him whole.
Eli bent down to retrieve the bottle top that landed at his feet. Both men’s bodies creaked and popped as they stood up. “Why are you in such rare form today?”
Dallas couldn’t bring himself to look his father in the eye. Passing by him he pulled out a chair, the feet scraping against the wooden floor. Sitting down hard upon the seat of the chair, he stretched his legs out in front of him and sat staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows. “It’s nothing, Dad. Just let it go.”
