Slip Up (Taking Chances Book 3)

by TC Matson

  Smiling, Janet nods and then turns serious. “I need to know how to handle this. How much do I need to be in front of it? Are you keeping it a secret?”

  “I’d plaster it on my truck if she’d let me. But for now, for her sanity, let’s play it safe,” I say.

  Janet straightens the papers and places them back into her folder. She stands and hugs Amelia. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” She pulls back but keeps her hands on Amelia’s shoulders. “Don’t let Norman scare you. He works for Declan. Not the other way around. If he oversteps, let one of us know.”

  Amelia offers a smile. “I will.”

  The moment Janet is gone, I drop beside Amelia on the couch and pull her to straddle me. Her stunning blue eyes shine down on me. “Are you okay?”

  She chews on the corner of her lip as her fingers play with the hair on my nape. “Yeah. It’s just…” she closes her eyes, “all that makes it feel so very real now.” Her voice is low and quiet.

  I tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “As real as it gets, but we’re in it together.

  Tilting her head, she kisses me. It’s intense and powerful, with so much passion behind it my heart rips all the strings attached. My cock instantly hardens, and when she rocks her pussy against my length, we both moan in unison.

  Reaching under her shirt, I slip my hand under her bra to massage her breast and then pinch her nipple. She sighs against my mouth, her hips continuing to promise I’ll blow my load before I can even get her pants off. I’ve wanted to feel her, dreamed of her, jacked off to her… I’m in a fucking rush to have her. I unzip my jeans and pull my dick out. Pushing her underwear to the side and hiking her skirt up—thank god she wore a skirt—I tug her down onto me.

  I hiss.

  She moans.

  I cup her face, bringing her mouth back to mine as she rides me. It may have started slow, allowing her to get adjusted, but soon, she’s frenzied, bouncing and grinding on my lap. Her body begins to shudder and her moans grow louder. I grip her ass, squeezing it as I lift and pull her down deeper. I watch, rapt, as she loses herself. Her cheeks flush. Her mouth parts. Her eyes flutter shut as her body is slammed into an orgasm, and it drags me by the nuts along with her.

  She crumbles against me, her head resting on my shoulder.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I rasp against her hair, meaning every ounce of it.

  She slides off me and goes to the bathroom before meeting me back on the couch. She nestles into my side.

  “How’s our baby doing?” I ask, spreading my fingers across her stomach.

  She suppresses a giggle. “I’m craving food at odd times. I wanted a grapefruit the other day and I hate grapefruit. And salt and vinegar chips. And strawberry things make me happy.”

  “Sounds like the kid already has my appetite.”

  Her fingers trail a circle on my chest. “What’s your middle name?”

  “William,” I reply. I’ve always hated my full name. It sounds so proper. “Yours?”

  She hums. “Dawn.”

  Dawn. I swirl the name in my head. “If we have a girl, please let us name her Dawn. It’s beautiful and she’ll be just as beautiful as you.”

  “Too thick,” she states with a laugh. “You’re laying it on way too thick.”

  My grin is so big it hurts my cheeks. “Being honest.”

  “I haven’t thought of names or anything really,” she comments with a hint of shame. “I’m scared once I do, I’ll freak out.”

  “You’re not freaking out now.”

  Her head shifts as she looks up to me. “Because I have you.” The words cause her cheeks to blaze and she sinks her teeth into her lip.

  Yeah. We’re definitely on the same page. I squeeze her. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere and even then, I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”

  We say nothing else. I stare at the ceiling content—happy as hell that she’s beside me in my arms and in my life.

  SEVENTEEN

  I’m woken by the soft click of the bedroom door shutting, and I roll over, blinking to the ceiling. Declan’s scent swallows me and the area between my legs still aches from our night.

  We held each other and talked on the sofa for a few hours until hunger struck us both at the same time. Declan made shrimp tacos with the left-over shrimp he had from the night before and store-bought slaw. We ate at the table talking about everything from my life to his. Come to find out, he’s not always alone. He’s got a few friends—other drivers—he’s bonded with over the years. He tells me about his best friend Milo, and how Milo is team Amelia from just the little he’s heard of me.

  Living in an RV is no different than living in a small apartment. You have the same amenities—kitchen, living room, bathroom, bedroom—just in a tighter space although this seems better than some of those studio apartments I’ve seen.

  I grin at the slick black design on the ceiling. I’m in love with him and I’m positive he feels the same as I do. The way he looks at me, passionate and fervent, the way he touches me, sensual and desperate… Quickly, he’s becoming the reason my heart beats…

  Love…

  I haven’t said those words to a man in several years. I’ve never entertained the thought. I’ve been too focused on my career to think about my heart.

  I slide one of his t-shirts over my head, slip into my pink pajama shorts, and pull the door open. Voices begin to fill the area as it creaks, and I freeze.

  “I don’t think her being here is a good idea.” I recognize the voice and dread fills me.

  “Your opinion on the matter isn’t important. She’s my wife and she’ll be here if I want her to be.” Declan sticking up for me causes a dip in my stomach and I smile a little against the door.

  “A drunken mistake doesn’t constitute as a marriage.”

  “Doesn’t matter how we got to this point. We’re here. She’s my wife and you’ll respect her. Otherwise, after I fuck up your face, I’ll have your ass fired. Do you understand?” Declan growls.

  Braving up, I pull my shoulders back, plaster on a fresh smile and step into the main living area. Norman’s at the table, looking flustered. Declan’s sitting on the edge of the couch, coffee in hand and eyes full of rage. The moment he hears me and his eyes shift to mine, his anger is replaced with happiness. He grins and stalks toward me.

  “You’re up early. I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asks, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me closer.

  I shake my head and tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “No,” I lie.

  Grinning down at me, he lifts a brow. “You remember Norman?”

  His eyes stay trained on mine and I don’t dare break the trance. He’s filling me with courage. “Unfortunately.”

  “I’ve got a few things I have to do this morning, but after, I’d like for you to join me to do a garage pass meet and greet.”

  My heart slaps my chest and fear trickles down my body.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Norman voices my thoughts.

  Declan’s eyes are smiling. “Norman, I’ll meet you in the garage in a few.”

  “That’s not—”

  Declan rips his loving gaze from mine and sets a trail of fire on Norman. “I’ll be there in a few.”

  Norman grumbles something under his breath and leaves…unhappily. It’s only an assumption. Most men don’t slam doors, yet he did.

  Declan kisses me. “What do you say?”

  “I, um. Not yet. We have a lot going on and I just…I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. I’m sorry.”

  He kisses me again. “Don’t apologize. I get it.” He clutches my hand and leads me into the bedroom. “I’ve got something for you. I picked it up last week.” He digs through the top drawer of his dresser and withdraws a slender long black box.

  I pop it open. It’s a beautiful silver neckless. No charm. No pendent. Just a chain.

  He looks nervous. “Do you still have your wedding band?”

>   I nod. “In my purse.”

  “Grab it for me.”

  My hands shake as I unzip the little side pouch I keep the ring hidden in and hand it to him.

  “I know you don’t want to wear your wedding band while we figure all this out, but I’d like to compromise.” He slips the ring on the chain. “Will you wear it around your neck?”

  His gaze, full of hope, endearment, and the same thing I’m feeling—love—pleads with me. I lift my hair and slowly turn around. As he slips it around my neck, I reach up and palm the ring against my chest, feeling a swell of emotions come over me.

  “One day, I’ll have it back on your finger,” he whispers, his breath brushing against my ear, and then places a kiss right under it.

  Goosebumps pull up and spread across my skin. By my shoulders, he turns me. “Make yourself at home while I’m gone. There’s food in the fridge. If you need anything else, Janet’s number is on the table. I’ll be hit and miss for most of the day.”

  I swallow the swell of emotions with tears holding on to my bottom lash. “I…” love you is right on my tongue, but I can’t finish it. Petrified. “Why are you…” My whisper wavers and I stop to keep from crying.

  His lips graze mine, spawning a tornado to storm my heart. “You’re my wife, Amelia. And I’m falling madly in love with you. It’s all from my heart.” He solidifies his words with his lips pressed against mine. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  I watch him leave, left to stand on my own two feet as I plunge off the cliff of love. Free falling. Head over heels. I knew I loved him, but this? This feels too powerful to contain, like trying to lasso that tornado.

  And it’s terrifying.

  EIGHTEEN

  Amelia is pale as we step out of the doctor’s office and into the sunlight. Her palm sweats in mine as it has since the moment she had to lie on the table. I knew she was nervous, and so was I. I never let go of her hand, rubbing her knuckles with my thumb to ground her—maybe even me—while the doctor preformed the ultrasound. Together we saw our child for the first time, and together we found out we’ll be having a boy. The amount of pride that hit me was unfathomable. In that moment, I felt I could move mountains.

  Opening the passenger side door, I squeeze her hand. “You okay?”

  Wet eyes look up to me. “I’m…” she swallows. “I’m petrified, Declan. A lot.”

  I drag a finger down her cheek unable to wipe the smile off my face. “Don’t be.”

  She shakes her head and drops into the car. Something else is bothering her, but learning what I have about her has taught me she’ll open up when she’s ready. I just have to give her time and be patient.

  I don’t say anything else as I get into the rental car and pull onto the road heading back toward the racetrack.

  Amelia’s eyes are closed, and her head rests on the back of the seat. “What if you figure out you don’t want to be with me? That everything you’re feeling is just the idea of what you think it should be?” Her voice is quiet.

  “Is that what you’re overanalyzing?”

  She rolls her head to me and whatever is in her gaze, I feel it in my soul. “I’m a nobody and you’re a somebody. Speed scares me. It thrills you. I’m chasing my dreams and you’re living yours.” She takes a breath. “What if you figure out I’m really not what you want? Or that you’re doing all these things because you feel like it’s the right thing to do?”

  “I never had to stay. We could have annulled this and never saw each other again. We had choices and I chose you. Us.”

  Her eyes flutter shut when a stray tear spills over.

  “I love you, Amelia.” My pulse screams in my ear louder than any adrenaline-fueled race to the finish line at finally admitting my true feelings. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m excited. For you. For us. Regardless of how unconventionally everything happened, I’m happy we got drunk that night. I wouldn’t change it.”

  She blinks the tears from her gaze. Her lips turn up. “I love you, too.”

  I hate that I’m driving right now. What I wouldn’t give to kiss the shit out of her. Instead, I smile a little goofy.

  Not long after our admissions, she dozed off. Between the overwhelming mix of emotions we experienced today and the lack of sleep, I know she’s exhausted. Last night, she was stressing about today. The realness was about to set in and she said she wasn’t ready. Every time I woke up, she was awake—either staring at the ceiling or the wall beside the bed.

  I pull up to the motorhome and unbuckle, twisting to her. I run my fingers through her hair and down her cheek. “Sweetheart…” I whisper softly. “Let’s get you inside.”

  Her eyes slowly open and an easy smile slides across her lips.

  “I’d carry you, but there’s no way I’ll get you up those narrow ass stairs.”

  I check the time as we get inside and smile. I’ve got a few hours I can spend with her before I’m forced to handle my obligations. Clutching her hand, I lead her to our room and then drag her down onto the bed with me. We kick off our shoes and I pull her against my chest.

  “You’ve got things to do. Go do them. Be the star,” she says.

  “I’m where I want to be,” I admit.

  The room falls silent as I hold her against me. Her arm is thrown over my stomach, mine wrapped around her and mindlessly rubbing her hip. She’s still awake by her breathing, so I voice my thoughts. “I’m not infatuated with the idea of being married to you. I’ll admit, in the beginning, I was curious. Why did we get married? What made us do it? I remember every single moment from that night, except our wedding. The sparkle in your eyes at the club, the heat in them in the bed. I’ve gone over it in my head so many times, and I wish like hell I could remember your eyes when we said I do. But now? I don’t care how we got here. I’m just glad we did. You have this light about you. You’re a storm of happiness and you do things in my chest and make me feel things. Real things.” I roll to face her, resting my head in my hand, and push the hair off her forehead. “You’re my somebody. My everything I want. While you’re worried about me not wanting to be with you, I’ve been terrified that I’ll blink, and you’ll be gone.”

  Unshed tears wet her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  A lazy smile slips across my lips and I press a kiss to her forehead.

  “Are you happy we’re having a son so you can do the racing things with him?”

  She’s kidding, right? I chuckle. “Don’t you think for a second I wouldn’t have my little girl out their too. She’ll race in a tiara.”

  She laughs and it’s the prettiest sound. I could get drunk on it, put it on repeat and never tire of it for years to come. Grabbing the back of her neck, I pull her in for another kiss. It’s long and drugging, and it’s powerfully overwhelming.

  * * *

  I’m awakened by the thudding sound of someone banging on the door. Amelia is still asleep so I quietly slip out of the bed and shut the door.

  Brad Logan, one of my teammates and a guy I consider a friend, spots me through the window and holds up a six-pack of Bud Light. I push open the door and let him in.

  He’s a tall slender guy in his early twenties. His dark hair is long, always tucked under his hat with little twigs sticking out from the back. And when he laughs, his eyes disappear behind his cheeks pushing up so high.

  “What’s up, man? Haven’t seen you around?” He hands me a beer and then pops a top off his, sliding into the seat at the table. “Are you turning into a hermit?”

  Quit the opposite.

  I take a pull and then smirk. “Nah. Just been busy.”

  He nods, grinning. “Yeah, winning, asshole. You should share some of those victories. I’m tired of staring at your ass.”

  Dropping my head back, I laugh. “You should drive better and have a faster truck. Even half throttle and my eyes closed you wouldn’t get up front.”

  “Rumors are you’re shooting for stock?” His tone turns serious.

  “Is
n’t that everyone’s hopes?”

  “Any potentials?”

  Brad may be a friend, but I’m not shelling out my information for my cards to be laid out. “I’ve been talking around. No clue if anyone will sign me.”

  The bedroom door clicks open and Amelia strolls out, her hair pulled back and wearing my t-shirt. She wears baggier shirts to hide the small and sexy baby bump she’s already sporting. Brad’s eyes bug out looking between us.

  “Brad, this is Amelia,” I introduce them, pulling her down to the couch beside me. “This is one of my teammates.”

  “Norman lets you have girls on your bus?” Brad asks, his mouth still hanging wide. “Damn, dude. You really are NRA’s golden child.”

  The owner set strict rules, like we’re in fucking middle school. Wives, fiancées, and long-term girlfriends only. No flings. No one-nighters. Anything not serious isn’t allowed to enter the driver’s gates. Something about protecting other drivers from potential risks. Aka—stalkers. You laugh, but you’d be surprised at how many women actually try. Trophy wife wannabes who don’t want to lift a finger for anything other than loads of makeup abound. These women like to sleep their way to the top so they can sink their talons into a top-rated driver.

  “She’s my…” wife. I glance to Amelia and then back to him, “girlfriend.”

  Brad looks between us. Something passes over his expression like he’s had an epiphany. “She’s the girl from Vegas.” He tips his beer in her direction. “So, are the rumors true? You two got hitched?”

  Amelia’s body tenses and then she shifts. “Rumors are rumors for a reason. Right? True we met there, but don’t always fall for gossip.”

  He grins. “Spunky. I like that.”

  “Don’t think about it,” I warn, knowing he has a tendency to sideswipe other drivers and their girlfriends. Brad isn’t a bad guy, but he can’t find anything that belongs to him. He’s good with words and because of that, his charm yanks women away from their steady lives. Little do they know, he’ll spit them back out in chaos.