by Eden Connor
Colt grabbed his drink and his eyes turned hard. “Yep.”
I recalled what Kolby said about someone putting the female driver into the wall. If Colt was gunning for Marley Taggart for personal reasons, I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
I’d reserve my sympathy for Caroline. Why hadn’t Jesse helped her get a career, too, if women were welcome on the track now?
I darted a glance at the memorial wall, finding Brad Taggert’s name easily. I’d once thought of NASCAR as a huge, faceless entity. It suddenly seemed like a small and very busy beehive, making me appreciate how awkward it would’ve been for Dale to work with Jesse Hancock, even for one season.
I almost hoped he wouldn’t ask about the rift between his sons and me. The man had endured more than his share of family drama. For the first time, I understood why he’d avoided romantic entanglements for two decades.
“Now, it’s Christmas. Y’all eat, drink, and be fuckin’ merry, ‘cause come Valentine’s Day, it’s on!” Richard punched his fist above his head. The crowd cheered so loudly, trophies rattled inside their cases. An immediate line formed at the buffet table.
I aimed my smile toward Jonny. “Congratulations, guys. I should get your autographs now while they’re still free.”
“Why is Shelby famous?” Mom demanded. “Jonny, you promised to tell me.”
“Her You Tube channel has almost two million subscribers.” Jonny cut his eyes toward me. “What can I bribe her with, Mrs. Hannah? I want to be in one of her videos.”
“Flowers work on me every time. But, I don’t understand. What’s a You Tube?” Mom scrunched up her nose and her words were a bit slurred.
Jonny laughed. “It’s a website where people upload videos of all kinds of things. Shelby lets people sit in her car and talk.”
Colt tipped his chair back on two legs. “You mean, she don’t even race it? Who’d watch that?”
“For your information, ‘Barracuda Hemi’ is one of the most frequently searched terms on You Tube.” I didn’t mean to snap at Colt—well, I kind of did—but Caine’s steady stare was starting to get to me. “I record people like Ernie, who want to tell me a story that relates to the Barracuda.” I shrugged. “They tell me all kinds of stuff, about lost loves and missed opportunities, and somehow, their tale always intersects with the car. I call it the The ‘Cuda Confessions.” I jumped up. Caine’s dark look made my stomach knot. So much for eating.
“I love them,” Francine piped up. “Ernie’s chomping at the bit for you to upload his.”
I nodded. “Couldn’t take the risk Dale might see it. I’ll put it up tonight.”
I drained my water glass, only to find Caine’s eyes still fixed on me. The servers circled tables on the far side of the room. Getting a refill would take forever.
“Excuse me. I think I’m going to find something with a little more kick than water.”
I’d hoped Jonny might help me slide my chair back, or even accompany me to the bar, but he pulled out his phone, offering to show Mom and Colt his favorite videos. To my dismay, Caine vaulted to his feet and grabbed the back of my chair.
“I’ll go with you. Too many hands-on types wanderin’ around.” He glared at my bodice.
Caine didn’t approve of my outfit? How amusing.
The line at the buffet blocked the hallway that led to the garage. I smiled at a random guy, hoping he’d let us cut through, but Caine grabbed my hand and tugged me toward a door I hadn’t noticed. “Alternate route.”
The door opened onto a dark room, but he jerked me inside. When he spun and the door slammed, I realized my mistake.
“What are you doing?” My heart took off at a gallop. Even in complete darkness, my body noted every muscle, plane, and bulge, using the heat from his big frame like some supercomputer, calculating the distance that had to be closed before his body touched mine.
I took a half step back, only to collide with the door. Two sharp reports sounded. Vibrations through the panel told me his hands bracketed my head.
A soft tickle of breath slid across my cheeks.
“Tryin’ to remember why I ever thought I loved you.” His voice came from a spot near my ear. He leaned closer, but all he did was inhale.
Why you... what? I blinked, even though I couldn’t see a thing. I’d be damned if he thought he’d just drag me into a dark room and pin me to the wall like his plaything.
“Love? Is that what you called it when you recorded me when I thought I was alone? Listen, Caine, I’m no expert, but I think you might be doing it wrong. Love’s not a felony. Those recordings, on the other hand....”
Something touched my face and ran through my hair. I stiffened while he traced the bones below my eyes with the rough pads of his thumbs.
“I know it was wrong. So, we’re even now? You feel like I humiliated you, so you paid me back by tellin’ everyone we know how much better off Dad would be if I’d never been born?”
I bit back the retort on the tip of my tongue. I’d assumed that everyone at Ridenhour already knew the story.
Because that was the defining moment of Macy’s life—when she got stuck having me. I was her great tragedy and she told everyone so five minutes after meeting them. I was sure that was the way she and Dale had connected.
I’d heard their story from Caroline, and Mom, and Ernie—three people who were close to this family. But, if Dale had protected his sons by not telling every casual acquaintance, friend, or co-worker that neither Caine’s nor Colt’s mother wanted their son, I didn’t feel triumphant. I felt small.
Not short. Small.
“While you were on a roll, why didn’t you tell ‘em she killed herself, too?”
My heart wrenched at the pain in his voice. “I didn’t know, Caine. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, I bet you are.”
Not five minutes into my plan and I was the one apologizing? Fuck me, this was going well.
“I wish to God I’d never done it. Those videos of you in your bed, with your hands between your legs, and Colt’s name on your lips? They hurt me more than they could ever hurt you. I destroyed them. I did tell Colt, but I swear to God, no one but me ever saw them. I wanted some kind of leverage in case Macy started milkin’ Dad for every dime. In case she didn’t really love him.”
He’d been protecting Dale. How nice. If my mother felt the least bit protective of me, we could’ve had this little chat four years ago.
Even I’d thought Mom hadn’t loved Dale, but had married him for security.
His lips came down on mine. I made no move to evade. I’d show him he had no effect on me. I even said the words inside my head while he touched his lips to mine.
I felt nothing. That’s what I’d say when he stopped fucking my throat with his tongue.
Except, he didn’t shove his tongue in my mouth. I barely felt the pressure of his lips—just their warmth. He stood there, not touching me, yet every molecule of heat in his big frame sank through me. I’d been fucked without feeling this much heat.
“Don’t.” I slapped my hands against his chest and shoved, for all the good it did.
He shifted. Pain shot through my toe. He moved his foot off my shoe, but not before the night of my eighteenth birthday came back to me, in all its painful glory.
“Hey, can you dance? Me, neither. Tell you what. You grab a shower, and I’ll find some music, and we’ll just step on each other’s toes, okay?”
He pulled away, but the electricity flashing over my skin told me he hadn’t moved far. His breath still stirred my hair.
“Shelby, you and your mama came out of nowhere. But I stopped looking at those tapes as soon as I saw that you loved Colt. I tried to warn you not to fall for him, but you didn’t hear me. You never heard anything I said. Except when I said it like this.”
His tongue slid past my frozen lips, searching, twisting, thrusting, teasing mine to engage. He raked my skirt up my thighs and drove his knee in between my legs. I slammed my palms against his che
st again. He didn’t budge. His heartbeat tattooed my left palm and my tongue moved of its own accord.
And I felt all the things I never felt when any other man touched me. My small breasts felt like bowling balls and I needed his hands to help ease their weight. My nipples peaked and I ached to feel his fingers twisting the hard points until I cried out. The rushing beat that told me I was alive raced through my blood to thud inside my clit. I almost grabbed his hand and brought it to my nub, so he’d torture it in that way only he dared.
His scent surrounded me, the familiar blend of Hugo Boss, Dial soap, and the soft musk that was pure Caine. I tightened my channel, aching to feel his fingers thrusting inside me, slick with my desire. I wanted to wrap my fingers around his rigid cock and squeeze until his heartbeat sank into my palm. Then, I’d go to my knees—
He jerked away. My knees trembled so, I nearly staggered.
“But goddammit, you don’t even know I’m around if Colt’s in the room. Only your body knows. I fucked you first, not Colt. I was the first man to take that sweet little ass, not Colt. But he’s always been the only one you saw, even when he was mockin’ me by feedin’ you the lines I couldn’t figure out how to say.”
Colt did what?
“It was me who stole your acceptance letter from that fancy college. I was hopin’... I thought if you’d go to college here, I could find a way to make you see me instead of Colt. Then he found it in my room. I guess he gave it back, but I knew by then, I had to let you go. Then later, I found out what really sent you runnin’. I should’ve come after you right then, but I been protectin’ Colt for so long, I don’t know how to stop. Not even for you. Just remember, I did warn you, he’s the best liar that ever was.”
The pain in his voice drove a sharp blade through my chest.
I knew when he moved out of reach, even though I heard no sound. Another door opened on the far side of the room. Caine strode through it, slamming the light switch up on his way by. I stared at the neat desk, blinking in the cold light. A blank computer monitor stared back.
What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?
Chapter Eight
When I stepped into the hall, I had a fifty-fifty shot at going the opposite direction as Caine, and guessed wrong.
The Barracuda was parked in the aisle at the far end of the massive garage, in front of the biggest rollup door I’d ever seen. A group of men leaned against a nearby car that was hidden underneath gray canvas. Another group loitered by the bar, but every face looked toward the car.
Insults flew while Caine pumped a floor jack, lifting the entire passenger side into the air. Dale stood with his back to the crowded bar, jacket off and hands on his hips. When Caine backed away from the jack handle, Dale grabbed a tire and rim and hurled it toward his son.
Caine stepped back, let it drop, then slammed his palm against the tread. The heavy wheel struck the polished cement and bounced up to meet his palm again. Grinning, Caine jogged the entire length of the ‘Cuda, to the rear axle. The onlookers whistled and hooted.
My mouth fell open. What kind of strength did it take to bounce a tire and rim like a basketball? An involuntary shudder ran through me, ending in a wet spot on my underwear.
“Jesus.” I recognized Phillip’s voice, but didn’t look back. “That’s impressive.”
Caine squatted. Dale grabbed another tire and followed suit. Snaking red hoses connected to air ratchets resting on the floor at their sides. The crowd around the ‘Cuda began to shout, but their voices tumbled over each other. Between the general uproar and the air compressor, I couldn’t really tell what was said, just had a general impression that Caine had to do well, if he wanted to rub shoulders with this bunch.
“Fucking showoff.”
Startled, I jerked around to see Colt’s new buddy at my elbow. Good. Maybe I could drag Jonny into some dark office and fuck his brains out.
The ratchets began to whine. I smiled at Jonny, but watched Dale from the corner of my eye. He moved the gun with blinding speed.
“Now that my speech is done, I’m just waiting for Santa. I think I could,”—I went on tiptoe to speak into his ear—“fit you in if you wanna get freaky.”
I regretted the comment instantly. It reminded me that Colt made me believe I was so tiny, my pussy needed to be stretched by fucking other guys before I’d be able to handle that horse cock he hauled around between his legs.
Great. I didn’t want to think about Colt’s cock, but now the image was in my head. The buzz in my bloodstream rose in volume. The smell of gasoline and rubber wasn’t something I encountered in the dorm rooms of the guys I slept with, but the pungent aroma in this place was irretrievably linked to the rough sexual awakening Colt and Caine had given me. Combined with Caine’s explosive kiss, I was aching to be penetrated.
My obvious invitation made Jonny’s eyes flash, but he looked away. “Yeah. I’m headed back to Spartanburg in a few.”
Well, dammit.
“Something light,” I turned and snapped at Harry. Spying a bottle of red syrupy liquid, I added, “Sloe gin and cranberry juice.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Seriously? One cherry cough syrup coming right up. Who have you been kissing? Your lipstick’s all smeared.”
I grabbed a cocktail napkin and wiped the edges of my lips. “There’s mistletoe everywhere. Someone grabbed me.” Shrugging, I turned to Jonny, determined to try again. “What would you like?”
He barely glanced my way. “Uh, Heineken in a bottle.”
Harry grabbed the ingredients for my drink while Phillip got the beer and removed the top. I felt Harry’s quizzical stare, but Jonny was still looking at Dale.
“Grab my beer, will you? I’ll be over there with Dale and your brothers.” He didn’t even look my way before he started off.
What on earth had gotten in to him? Had Dale said something to him? Dale and Caine were both grinning and trash talking. Colt stood to the side, watching them, but he turned my way. Catching me looking at him, he gave me a sly grin.
Oh, you wish. Spinning, I asked Phillip for a Budweiser, thinking I’d take the beer to Dale. A moment later, someone stepped too close behind me. Expecting Colt, I stiffened, but when I looked, I was more annoyed to see Kolby Barnes.
“Nice little story.” His dismissive tone made me bristle. “Scotch and soda,” he added, cutting his eyes away from me.
Harry and Phillip set the drinks I’d ordered in front of me. I tried to gather all three items in my hands, intent on getting away from the arrogant driver.
“Need some help?” Kolby grabbed the can of Budweiser. “I guess this is for Dale?”
I gave a grudging nod. “I can handle it, thanks.”
“Nah, I got it.” He moved to my side, crowding close. “But I don’t understand something.”
“Wow, what a shock.”
He gave me an arrogant grin. “I know what I earned when I was Rookie of the Year. That Barracuda only cost about six grand when it was new. Can’t quite figure out why your daddy didn’t have plenty of cash on hand, even if he did knock up some whore. Kinda turns that little heartbreaking tale into one of piss-poor financial management, doesn’t it?”
Did you walk out in the middle of my speech just stand in the hall and listen? Just got out of your seat to be a dick?
I was so pissed off, it took me a second to follow his line of reasoning. I burst out laughing.
“Seriously? Kolby, how old do you think Dale is? When he was trying to buy a Barracuda Hemi, the car had been out of production for almost two decades. 1971 was the last year they were built, not to mention, only six thousand convertibles were ever made. Six grand wouldn’t touch that car the year Dale won the honor. The collectible market for muscle cars was already skyrocketing.”
I decided to abandon Dale’s beer. I’d come back for another later, or he could fetch his own. I had to get away from this jackass. I almost went to look for Mom and Francine, but was more interested in what Dale was doing.
Whe
n I reached the Barracuda, the driver’s side was in the air. Caine stood back with his arms crossed. Jonny slid his jacket off.
Laughing because the man just had to compete with Caine and Dale, I set the drinks down on a stool and pulled myself onto a gleaming red tool cabinet to watch. Caine took that wide-legged stance and scowled. Why doesn’t he like Jonny?
I realized Ernie was an onlooker, too. The old gent headed for me with a grin.
“Thank you for talkin’ me into coming, Shelby. I’ve let too damn much time go by without seein’ my old friends.” I had no idea where Ernie’s jacket was, but his short-sleeved T-shirt showed through his white shirt. I thought it was cool back here, but the neckline of his shirt was damp. His tie dangled from the back pocket of his dress slacks. I hadn’t seen such a big smile on his face since he day I’d handed him Dale’s registration card, and I saw him often. Francine still drove the 1965 Mustang convertible she’d gotten as a high school senior. About once a week, they’d swing by school in that car, pick me up, and treat me to dinner.
“No, thank you, Ernie. The story had a better ring to it, coming from your lips.”
He glanced down at the floor. “Sometimes, you just let stuff get in the way between you and an old friend. Then, before you know it, years have gone by, and you can’t figure out how to fix the rift.”
I thought of Caroline and squeezed his arm.
A drop of water landed on my knee. I scowled at the dripping can of Budweiser. Wonderful. Kolby thought my leaving the beer with him was an invitation to follow me. Either that, or the idiot just sucked at reading social cues. He plopped the can between my drink and Jonny’s Heineken.
Leaning a hip against the tool chest where I perched, he said, “I still don’t get it.”
