Racing to Love - Brody's Love

by Amy Gregory

  Racing to Love ~ Brody’s Love

  Gift Novella

  Amy Gregory

  Copyright © 2012 Amy Gregory

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the publisher.

  Sapphire Star Publishing

  www.sapphirestarpublishing.com

  Smashwords Edition

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN 978-1-938404-43-6

  Cover Image by Hidesay

  www.sapphirestarpublishing.com/amygregory

  Brody’s Love

  He kept his eyes focused, watching only her. The late afternoon sun glinting off the new-fallen snow made it almost impossible to see, even with his Oakleys on. He could only pray to God she wasn’t blinded while mid-air.

  Brody watched her carefully ride the bike through the small path he had cleared for her with the Bobcat. This wasn’t exactly the best way to practice, but given the time constraints that his dad’s last minute schedule change had put them under, he and Molly didn’t have much of a choice. Their only option was to freeze their asses off and hope to hell she didn’t get hurt.

  Secluded in the Pennsylvania country-side, the quiet was his best tool, and he used it to his advantage. Listening intently to the sounds of the bike, he paid even more attention than he normally did. Any noise that sounded like the engine was cutting out or having problems in the cold and he’d pull her. Practice be damned. She wasn’t getting hurt on his watch.

  Placing a hand over his eyes, he tried to block as much of the sun as possible while his gaze followed her up the dirt take off ramp.

  Shit. Goddamn it.

  The split-second he lost Molly in the sun was way too long. His heart pounded as she finished out the rotation, landing harder than he would have liked to have seen.

  “Practicing in this God-forsaken cold is fucking ridiculous.” There wasn’t any reason to keep his mouth in check. It was only Molly and him braving the freezing January—and she couldn’t hear him. Even if she could, he knew for a fact she’d agree with him completely.

  “Tell me how you really feel, honey,” the voice behind him teased.

  Wool mittens slid around his waist, followed by her arms. Just Erin’s presence was enough to bring his anxiety down two notches. Brody turned to the side, pulling his girlfriend under his arm.

  “Hey, babe. When did you get here?”

  “I just pulled up. I went inside, but your mom said you were trying to get in some last minute practice before we load up?”

  Groaning inwardly, Brody pasted on a smile and nodded. He loved his job. Like most people, he occasionally had to remind himself that he loved it, but he really did enjoy it the majority of the time. Nonetheless, there were times that just plain sucked ass.

  This would be one of those times.

  Brody raised his hand in the air and waved Molly over.

  His name would be in the record books for years to come. His freestyle career had been one that legends were made of. Until one wreck too many. That last one decided his fate without asking anybody’s opinion—especially his. In the blink of an eye, it was over. The damage to his body tallied up, ended his ability to compete aggressively. His back had been tweaked badly and the compressed disk still bothered him, but it was his hip that gave him the most trouble. Add in two blown-out knees and he had the body of an eighty-year-old man.

  But that was okay. Erin loved him anyway. If she didn’t, well then she deserved an Emmy because she was a hell of an actress. The brown-haired beauty sure made him feel loved, and she took care of him on the days his body hurt so badly he could hardly move.

  Erin squeezed his waist again. Looking down, he couldn’t help but smile back at the giddy face looking up at him. Her chocolate brown eyes were crinkled at the corners, happiness touching every part of her face. Having no idea why she was so excited about this trip, he could only chuckle at her enthusiasm.

  Wiggling his eyebrows, he gave her a wicked grin, one that held dark promises. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

  Pink immediately stained her cheeks, but he knew it wasn’t from embarrassment. The flush was purely arousal. Comebacks were normally quick to roll off her tongue and usually with a sting of sass behind them, but he had been teasing her since they awoke this morning, drawing out the anticipation of their last night at home, in their own bed. For the next four, almost five months, they’d be sharing the motorhome with Molly while they were on the road for the exhibition tour she had been asked to do.

  Priding himself on his iron-tight control, it was almost more than he could handle, seeing the warm brown eyes staring at him full of longing and need. Quiet wasn’t Erin’s strong suit, but there she stood, waiting, silently. When her lips parted…his jeans instantly constricted him.

  “Sugar, you’ve gotta quit looking at me like that.”

  The way she blinked innocently in response upped his pain level several notches. He was going to be damned lucky to get them both home alive without wrecking on the way. Fifteen minutes was a long time when one was in agony or horny—or in his case, both.

  Thank God Molly was near. The revving of the engine as she downshifted her bike alerted him that she was quickly approaching, interrupting the sexual tension that had grown ten-fold since he’d started this little game with Erin this morning. A plan that had spun around and bit him in the ass, and he knew without a doubt, he’d remember this little lesson for a long, long while.

  “Brody…” It was just a whisper, but it was the way Erin said it—she was begging.

  “Oh, God, Erin. You’re killing me.”

  Muttering under his breath, he positioned her in front of him to hide the bulge in his jeans from his sister, barely getting Erin in place before Molly rode up. Keeping one arm around Erin’s waist, Brody spoke over her shoulder. “You’re done. It’s not worth the risk. You felt your back tire, right?”

  A hiss escaped through his clenched teeth. Fully aware of what she was doing, the little minx rubbed her backside against his erection. Molly’s eyes were on Erin and she was grinning unabashedly, just like a Cheshire cat. His downfall? His girlfriend and his sister were best friends. Shaking her head in what could only be amusement, Molly glanced back at him.

  “You apparently didn’t hear me cussing you up one side and down the other? Eh, yeah—I felt it, all right. Plus, it’s just too damned cold out here.” Molly’s eyes went back to Erin’s and her face lit up. “So, you ready for this?” she asked, grinning like a damn fool.

  What is it with everyone?

  This was going to be an experience for all of them. Brody wasn’t ready yet to lay down money on just how good of one it’d turn out to be. Four months was a hell of a long time to be on the road, especially with only a couple trips home in between.

  When Molly had retired from racing, then retired a second time from competing freestyle, she transitioned into a money maker. It was both a blessing and a curse. While Molly’s pretty face and killer body had modeling contracts being offered to her left and right, it was the crazies that Brody worked overtime to protect her from.

  After he’d been forced to retire from his own riding career, he slid into the full-time role of Molly’s manager, relieving his father. Traveling with her to riding exhibitions and photo shoots was not a hardship for any man, and up until now, the longest they had ever been gone
at one time was barely over two weeks.

  Now they were talking four freaking months. Four months away from home, four months on the road, four months away from his own bed and the privacy it allowed Erin and him.

  It wasn’t an option to turn down the job request. A dear friend of the family had called last minute, and without thinking twice, his father, James, said yes without talking to either Molly or him regarding the details. Traveling the men’s pro racing circuit with Molly as sort of a pre-show exhibition rider was intriguing and daunting at the same time.

  Erin would be there with them, of course, but four months was enough to make him question his father’s sanity. It was a hell of a long time to be gone, but it seemed like an eternity when he was solely responsible for Molly’s safety. Their mechanic, Joey, was packing up to go too, but even with Joey and Erin, his shoulders sagged with the weight of his responsibilities.

  Planning new routines and timing out the tricks according to each track layout week after week, keeping her bike running at one-hundred-percent, and trying to enjoy it all—that was easy. Keeping her safe? After everything he’d ever done on a bike, now was the first time in his life when he’d admit he was scared shitless.

  “Go ahead and take that bike on up to the shop. Joey is loading everything the way Mr. Particular likes. He already has the other three in the semi. He’s just waiting on that one, and he wanted to prep it first.”

  “Why don’t you go take it up to him so I can finish packing?” Molly smarted back.

  Brody raised his eyebrow and tried like hell to keep the smirk from turning into a smile. “You don’t want to start that…little girl.”

  “You did not just call me that!”

  Erin shook her head. “It’s kinda funny, don’t you think?”

  He squeezed the arm around Erin’s waist, pulling her closer to him. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

  “Well, we’re all the same age, yet I’m the only one who doesn’t act like a six-year-old.” She laughed.

  “You want in on this too? Trust me, I can take on you both. I’ve done it before and I can do it again.”

  Erin wiggled out of his hold, turning to unite with her friend. She and Molly grinned at each other before pivoting back to him, both with wicked gleams in their eyes. Too many years spent together, too many times like this moment had them prepared. Both girls sneered at him.

  In perfect unison, they over-enunciated their answer, “Bring it.”

  Molly’s flippant ‘come here’ motion had Brody wanting to tackle and punish her. He knew exactly where to tickle to have her screaming uncle in seconds. However, he was a nice brother. Standing there, holding a two-hundred pound bike up, had her in a hell of a position. She was a sitting duck so he’d take mercy on her—this time.

  Reaching over the console of his truck, Brody held out his hand, waiting for Erin’s.

  A sweet smile touched her lips. “Thank you for taking me out to dinner.”

  “You have no idea what we’re in for. Hell…I don’t know what we’re in for, Erin. We might not get a decent meal until we come home. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Brody, you know me. I don’t care what or where we eat, as long as I’m with you.”

  Pulling their laced fingers up to his lips, he kissed the back of her hand, and then continued to brush his lips over the satin smooth skin.

  Turning into the private parking lot of the upscale steakhouse, Brody maneuvered into a spot in the back of the lot, away from other vehicles that could possibly scratch his truck, backing in like he almost always did. He walked around the front of the truck, opened Erin’s door, and was once again reminded of how incredibly stupid he’d been to start teasing her this morning.

  When she turned and slowly slid one leg out of the truck, it was bad enough, but she’d apparently decided to get even. There was nothing but fire in her brown eyes when she seductively moved her other leg so she was perched on the seat of the truck, her fingers resting on his shoulders, waiting for him to help her down.

  The eyes trained on his were melting him. Brown eyes that he’d never seen before.

  Erin had been in his life more years than not. Her family owned the land next to his parents’ property. The only thing dividing them was a stream that ran between the two.

  He was homeschooled growing up, and she went to public school. Both were only children growing up. At least he had been until Molly came to live with them when she was fourteen. And it was Molly who brought him and Erin together. Their families had been acquaintances, more like good neighbors than hang out on a Friday night type of friends, and he and Erin hadn’t given the other a thought until Molly.

  When she came, Erin was suddenly around—a lot. They were all the same age, all out in the middle of the country with only themselves to hang out with, and it quickly became the three of them, the together forever sort of friends. Molly had followed along homeschooling with him so she could travel as well, making Erin her only real friend. After a very short time, they were best friends. Inseparable. Closer than sisters. Erin was suddenly there all the time—in his house, sleepovers, chocolate chip cookie baking at midnight, kind of there.

  And he loved it.

  As teens they were all just close. Circumstantial? Sure. Because they had a blast together. Hell yeah.

  Brody and Molly taught Erin how to ride a dirt bike, how to corner aggressively, how to jump it. She taught them how to play poker. Privately of course—her grandpa had threatened her into silence. To this day, her parents still didn’t know where she’d learned the finer points of playing cards.

  That stream running through their properties was their meeting place, the halfway point between them. They spent so many hours there, laughing, talking, goofing off, and dreaming about the future. All huge pipe dreams that were laughable, even back then.

  One day that stream became a different sort of meeting spot. Molly was out of town for a race, and only Brody and his mother were home. He’d met Erin that Saturday morning at ten because they’d done it for four years straight. It didn’t matter if he or Molly or both were able to make it, Erin was there. He’d been alone with her hundreds of times. No big deal. Until that one crisp Saturday in October. Something changed. He didn’t know if it was the way the light hit her as she sat on the rock next to him with a twig in her hand, playing with a leaf floating by in the few inches of water near their boots, or the way she looked at him when she glanced up and saw him staring at her. But it hit him.

  He leaned over, pressed a light kiss to her lips, and slowly pulled back. Still to this day, he remembered not being even the slightest bit nervous as he waited for her eyes to open. All he knew was it just felt right.

  Erin had looked at him and smiled. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you to do that.”

  That stream held a lot of memories. He chuckled to himself. Their first picnic—it was where he first realized he loved her. And it’d been the place for their first time, laid out on a flannel plaid blanket under the summer stars.

  It was wider than it was deep, and in some places the clear water barely trickled over the rocks. But it was the rock she sat on the first time he kissed her that he was going to sit her down on once again. This time, though, instead of sitting beside her—he planned on kneeling in front of her.

  Soon. He had the box hidden safely in his childhood bedroom. After the trip, when they weren’t rushed, he’d open it up in front of her.

  Thinking about it sent a surge through him. He almost wished he’d just brought it with him tonight, but he wanted that moment to be special, to happen in a place that was special to both of them. Not just a restaurant, at a table where other people had sat before and would again after.

  No, it had to be by the stream. In much warmer weather, because he planned on taking that worn flannel blanket with him, just for old time’s sake. He grinned to himself, picturing her lying out on that soft flannel, the sun peeking through the upper branches of the trees. With nothing
on but his ring.

  “Brody…”

  He realized he’d been staring. Her brown eyes held so many memories that he got swept away sometimes. A grin tipped one side of his mouth, partially because he knew he’d been caught, mostly because the smoldering look in her eyes held a different sort of promise. The kind that instantly had him hard.

  Brody had spent the entire day looking forward to tonight. It was their last night in a real bed, in privacy, in peace and quiet—well, maybe not the quiet part.

  Four months on the road was going to be torture. Having to sneak in quickie sex here and there wasn’t his idea of a good time, although he wasn’t going to be passing it up. He wasn’t an idiot since it was going to be the only alternative, but he definitely preferred being able to lay her out on their satin sheets, in their own bed, and take his sweet time with her.

  The truck faced the back of the restaurant, and a six-foot hedge blocked them from the neighboring parking lot. Erin slid down out of the truck, his hands on her waist. With her eyes on her fingertips, she painstakingly ran her finger along the line of buttons on his shirt. When she got to the top button, she gazed up at him, heavy-lidded, her chocolate eyes challenging. Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to his throat.

  Brody swallowed hard.

  This was not his Erin. His Erin was a combination of sassy and sweet, totally cute and a blast to be with. The epitome of the girl next door. The Erin standing in front of him now was a siren matching him fiery blow for fiery blow. The stakes just shot higher. Brody was competitive in nature and this little game he’d started this morning had just thrown him a curveball, but he knew where her weaknesses lay.

  His eyes locked on hers, daring her to look away as he untied the belt of her dress coat. Slipping one hand around her side, he settled his hand on her hip, his fingers spread and digging into her through the thin silk of her dress. With her in his hold, he backed her into the space of the opened truck door. Only bathed in the dome light of the truck and the street light above, Brody was still able to see her eyes darken.