by TC Matson
“I love children and want to make a difference in their lives by encouraging them and helping them realize their potential. I was inspired by my fourth-grade teacher. She was incredible and had such an unconventional way of teaching. By the end of the year, I knew I wanted to impact kids like she did me.”
“We need more good teachers in the world.”
“As we do people.”
He lifts his beer. “Touché.”
“What about you? What got you into racing?”
He grins over the rim of his beer before taking a swallow. “I’m a guy. I like to go fast.” He lifts a shoulder, setting his beer down as if to say it’s that simple. “When I was in first grade, I begged my parents to buy me a go-kart. After a few years of ripping around the neighborhood, Dad put me in a go-kart race. Best seventy-five dollars he probably ever spent. By the time I was ten, I had seven national championships. Unfortunately, racing takes a lot of money, which we didn’t have. In high school, I couldn’t race full time and hold a job, so I was forced to pull back. I got a job working for Martin, one of my Dad’s friends, at a little ass garage. Little did I know he was going to be my in. The night of my graduation, Martin took a huge risk and broke all the rules. He was a team owner for the truck series. Threw my ass in a truck and let me run a few laps.” He licks his lips as the memories come back to him. “It was like a drug. One hit and I was addicted. He invested in me and I came in fourth place in my very first race. Been at it ever since.”
“How incredible that he saw it in you and gave you the chance.”
He nods and then sadness shrouds his gaze. “Unfortunately, he passed away a few years ago from a heart attack. Now I’m under a new team owner. He’s definitely not Martin, but he’s just as effective.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and then take a sip of my drink. “You’d hate to ride with me. I’m not a speed demon. Matter of fact, if I do five over, I freak out.”
He laughs. “Maybe I can fix that.”
“Oh no. Speed and danger will have me bawling in the passenger seat.”
“Then what if you’re in the driver’s seat?”
“Then I can assure you there will be no speed or danger,” I titter coquettishly.
A spark lights up his eyes. “I’d be there to help you.”
Chagrin creeps up the back of my neck and I am indebted to the waitress for interrupting our conversation and setting our food down between us.
“Tell me about your parents,” he says before shoving a bite into his mouth.
Talking about my parents always brings a smile to my face. “They’re great parents—supportive and loving. I’m a daddy’s girl and a whole lot of a momma’s girl too.”
His brow raises. “They know you got married?”
I sputter my laugh. “No. Dad would murder us both and the news would send my mother over the edge.”
“What happens if we decide to not annul this?”
There’s a seriousness in his tone that brings back the nerves I had at the beginning of the date. Instantly, my palms start to sweat. “We’ll cross that bridge later.”
Placing his forearms on the table, he leans closer. “Don’t rule us out yet. Give us a real chance.”
“You’re serious? You really want to try this?”
He waits a beat and swallows before responding. “I’m not impulsive and I’ve never made such an impulsive move in my life. I’m a calculated thinker,” he bounces his head side to side, “for the most part. I threw all caution to the wind with you and there has to be a damn good reason.”
“What if it was just as simple as you were drunk and you wanted sex?” The million-dollar question that’s been spinning in my head is out in the air.
He chuckles. “If I was thinking with my dick, it would’ve only been sex. I don’t need a marriage license to help with that. At some point, my heart ran the show and I’m trying to figure out why.”
“What if you figure out it was just a mistake?”
His lips tighten. “Going off just tonight, I can tell you it wasn’t.”
I drop the topic, overwhelmed by his honesty and the genuineness of his words. I don’t bring it back up throughout dinner and neither does he. We make small talk, keeping the conversation light. One thing I know for sure—I love the way he lights up when he talks about anything racing.
After dinner, Declan brings me back home and walks me to the front door. Everything about tonight has been comfortable, aside from the jitters at the beginning, but now, I’m nervous as hell again.
“I had a good time tonight.” He flashes a boyish smile, the edges holding trepidation.
Good. Makes two of us.
“Me too.”
“I’ll be leaving early in the morning,” he informs me. “Can I call you?”
“I’d like that,” I answer with a smile.
Slowly, he bends and my breath catches in my throat. The moment his lips press to mine, the world falls away. He cups my face in his hands, his thumb caressing my cheek. Gentle and soft, it promises reverence and realness, and it’s entirely heart-melting.
“Good night, Amelia,” he breathes against my lips with a smile.
TEN
Oddly, after only one date that ended in a mind-blowing kiss, it’s hard to leave her. One thing is clear. Even in my drunken stupor, I knew I needed her in my life.
It’s early, really, really fucking early when I knock on her door, but I have to see her before I leave.
One eye is shut, and the other is barely open when she answers the door. She’s in a soft pink shirt with black and white striped shorts and her hair is braided, resting on her shoulder.
“Declan?” Her voice still groggy. “It’s early. What are you doing here?”
Other than fighting the urge to slam my mouth to hers… “My flight leaves at six. I wanted to see you before I left.”
She steps back and lets me come in. She flips on a small lamp on the table next to the couch and hides her eyes from the light.
“It’s four in the morning,” she says concerned, like I didn’t know.
Her nipples are hard under the thin fabric. Her legs are bare, long and toned. “You’re beautiful in the morning.”
Her face scrunches up.
“When I come back next week, I’ll only have a day, maybe two if I’m lucky. But I want to see you again.”
“Are you always this sweet?”
Softly, I chuckle. “Never had a wife before. Figured I’m supposed to lay it on thick.”
She laughs tilting her head. Even in the early morning, she’s breathtaking. “You don’t have to.”
“I know. But I want to.”
“Just be yourself.”
Erasing our distance, I run my knuckles over her cheeks. Her eyes widen. Gone is the sleep in them from just moments ago. I graze my lips across hers, and when she parts for me, I slip my tongue in, morning breath be damned. Her breath hitches as I gently grab the back of her neck and deepen the kiss. I’m determined to keep it slow—tortuously fucking slow for the both of us. She breathes a whimper as she presses a palm against my chest and then grips my bicep. I inhale her as a swirl of emotions twist in my stomach and hardens my dick.
“Damn, I don’t want to leave,” I rasp thickly against her lips.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pull her body against mine and press her tits against my chest. Her hand slides up my arm and grips my neck. Her other hand still rests on my chest and I’m positive she can feel how hard my heart’s thumping right now.
Although our kiss is slow and intimate, our bodies are desperate to release the restraints. I know how good she feels and how great being with her is. My dick will never forget the way she feels wrapped around me.
Reluctantly and before I say screw it and take her to her room, I pull away. “Can I come back next week?” I whisper thickly.
When her eyes flutter open, it’s evident she wants me just as badly as I want her. “That’s a lot of traveling.”
“Is that a yes?”
Her swollen lips pull up into a smile I could wake up to daily. “Yes.”
I look her in the eyes so she can feel the weight of my words. “I want you to know. Even though things are what they are, I will be true to you. You’re my wife until we change it. I won’t be doing anything I shouldn’t be.”
Dropping her arms away from me, her gaze averts. “Don’t feel obligated just bec—”
“I don’t. This is my decision. But if you want to date other people, then…” I hate the noxious words on my tongue. “If you don’t feel the same way, we’ll get it annulled.”
Her baby blues flash wide and she shakes her head slightly. “No. It’s safe to say we’re on the same page.”
The weight of the world lifts off me as relief spills down my body. “Then you’re my wifely girlfriend until we decide otherwise.”
She titters.
Tilting my lips down, I frown. “I have to go.” Not only do I have to catch a plane, but the longer I stand here with her, the harder it’ll be not to fuck her on the couch. “I’ll call you when I get there.”
* * *
“Where the hell have you been?” Norman jumps up from the couch, shoving his laptop to the side as I climb the stairs of the RV. “I’ve been calling and texting you for days. The team’s been testing without you—the driver.”
After talking to Amelia and finding out that he has, in fact, been in contact with her, I don’t have shit to say to him.
“Busy.”
“Your obligations are here. What the hell have you been busy with that I don’t know about?”
Who the hell does he think he is? My keeper? I spin around to him, glowering. “How many times did Amelia try calling to get ahold of me?”
Surprise from my bombshell crosses his face but is quickly blinked away and replaced with aggravation. His eyes grow hard. “So you were with her?” he fumes. “How much money did—”
“It’s not about money,” I fire off, slapping my palm against the wall. “She’s my wife!”
He scoffs. “By a drunken mistake. That marriage can be annulled without a drop of your money going to her.”
“You had her information knowing I was on a wild chase trying to find her.”
“That small-town girl has nothing to her name. It’s all given to her by her father. Either she’s spoiled or money hungry. With you, she saw an opportunity and probably drugged you to get you to the chapel.”
I grit my teeth. “If I want her here, she’s here and you say nothing. If I want to leave to go to her, I’m gone without an argument. From now on, you don’t block her from me.”
“You realize you can do better?”
His words grate my spine, igniting a fiery rage. I yank him by the shirt and slam him hard against the wall. “Fuck you and your better, Norman. You are business. Nothing more. Stay the hell out of my personal life and don’t you fucking dare get in my way, or I’ll make sure you never work in the racing industry again.” I shove into him, pressing him deeper into the wood. “Get the hell off my bus,” I bite, my voice dangerously low.
I release him, daring him to do something to give me a solid opportunity to kick his ass. He keeps his mouth shut even though the anger boils in his eyes. He snatches his laptop off the couch and shoves it into his bag.
The door isn’t even shut behind him before I drop to the couch and shoot off a text to Amelia.
Me: I’m here.
I’m in the middle of a garage meet and greet when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. No matter how badly I want to check it, I can’t. Fans pay a lot of money for garage passes so they can watch the team experiment with new setups for the track. They love seeing what happens behind the scenes and I love doing it for them. I give back just as much as the fans put in because, let’s face it, without them, where would I be?
A young kid, maybe nine or ten, decked out in all my merch holds a picture of my winning celebration in Daytona last year.
“Could you sign this for me, please, Mr. Palmer?” he asks.
His hazel eyes are wide, his blond hair poking out from under his baseball cap. The way he’s looking up at me starstruck is humbling as hell.
I squat down in front of him. “Call me Declan.”
His eyes widen even more and so does his grin. “I’m Jake. My dad thinks I’m your biggest fan in the whole world. I know I am. The first race I ever went to, you were aggressive on the track and came in second. That’s when I started liking you.”
I chuckle at his exuberance. “I bet you were my lucky charm that day.”
“Do you really think so? You win even when I can’t come to your races. Dad says it costs too much to travel the country and go to all of them. I would if we could. But when we don’t, I watch on TV.”
His words ramble out of him faster than I push my truck around the track. “Well, then I definitely say you are my lucky charm,” I thrum, loving how hard he’s grinning. “Do you listen to radio communication while you’re here?”
His little lips pull down and he shakes his head. “No.”
I’ll fix that. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
This lifts his spirits back up and he beams proudly. “Your crew chief. I think you could do better with me.”
I laugh, loving his enthusiasm. “When you graduate high school, make sure you come see me. But you need to know a lot about cars, racing, and a bunch of technical stuff. So soak it all in first. Maybe you could join my team.”
“What if you go to stock cars?
“Then you’ll have a place there too.”
His mouth falls open. “That would be so cool!” he squeaks.
“Dream big, Jake. You never know. You could be the next driver I’m chasing down.”
“I’d let you win,” he says shaking his head adamantly.
I laugh again and sign his picture.
“Did you really get married?” he asks and I’m grateful I just finished signing because I freeze. “When my dad married my stepmom, they went away together. Did she go without you?”
I lean closer so I can whisper. “We’re waiting until after race season. But you can’t tell anyone. Our secret.”
His face tightens and he nods. “Promise.”
“So it is true? You did get married in Vegas?” a male voice asks behind me and I jerk to my feet spinning toward it. A reporter…great.
Ignoring him, I smile down to Jake. He’s drowning in worry like he just got us busted. I tip my head. “Come here.” He and a man I’m assuming is his father follow me where Norman is perched on a wall. “Take Jake here and buy him everything he needs to listen in. And pay for the rest of the season on the scanner app.”
Jake fists pumps the air and then slings his arms around my waist. “Thank you. I promise I’ll watch and listen to all the races. I’ll stay your good luck charm.”
“Thank you,” his father says shaking my hand. “He’s tenacious. Hope you know he’ll be chasing after Cale’s job soon.”
I smile. “Hope so.”
He guides Jake away by the shoulder, following Norman out of the garage.
A recorder is shoved in my face. “I’m Braun Irwin with CAT sports. So it is true you got married in Vegas. Rumors are you two had never met prior to Vegas and the marriage was a drunken vow. Are you going to have it annulled? Could you speak on this?”
“Reporters aren’t allowed in meet and greets,” I respond.
“I was invited in by your manager.”
Gritting my teeth, I force a smile. “Have a good evening, Mr. Irwin.”
I push my way out of the garage, shutting the door in his face, and make my way back toward the bus. A few fans stop me on the way, and I quickly sign their items, rushing off before Braun catches up with me.
Me: Seems Norman has decided to create some drama. He invited a reporter into the M&G and the guy overheard stuff about my marriage.
Janet: Call me later to discuss. I’ll get in front of it so n
othing comes from it.
Sighing, I stretch my neck to relieve my anger and grab a water from the fridge when my phone chimes again.
The Wife: Sorry. Just got out of class. I’m glad you made it safely.
Me: How was class?
The Wife: Good. On my way to work now.
Me: Call me before you go to bed?
The Wife: Sure. Talk to you then.
Grinning, I feel like I’ve struck the lottery.
ELEVEN
A dream jerks me out of the bed and face first into panic. I’m frantic as I text Kirsten, telling her she needs to come here right now. This? It’s a damn emergency.
Twenty minutes later, she’s rushing through my door, freaking the hell out just as much as I am.
“What the hell is wrong? And why the hell did you make me come here to find out instead of telling me?” she grumbles.
“I’m late,” I reply in a despairing whisper.
Her brows pinch together. “For?”
“I’m late,” I choke out, emphasizing the word. “I haven’t had a period since we’ve been back from Vegas.”
Her eyes pop wide. “Oh, shit.”
“Oh shit is right,” I cry out, dropping to the couch and then popping up and pacing the room. “I had a dream I was pregnant. Even in my sleep, I knew something was wrong.”
“How are you just realizing this?”
I glower. “I’ve been so busy with school and work… and a new fricking husband.” My voice raises as I talk. I pause, collecting myself. “Time just got away from me.”
“What woman doesn’t know?”
“Me!” I shout. “This woman.”
“You need to pee on a stick, pronto. Let’s go.”
Living in a small town hasn’t been so horrible until now. I’m in the worst aisle for anyone to see me, trying to figure out which pregnancy test to get. There are so many—digital, lines, plus signs, twenty different brands. They all say they’re the leading brand in early detection. Closing my eyes, I grab one from the shelf while Kirsten grabs another and we rush to the counter. I’m shaking, sweat prickling across my forehead as I pay and shove them into my purse like I stole them. I feel like I’m harboring a bomb as we rush back to my house.