The Blind Date

by Alice Ward

  “I-I suppose he hasn’t done anything to make me think that he would.”

  “And what has he done to draw your attention now?”

  “Just little things, but they’re so unlike him that I can’t help but notice.”

  “Ah, I see. You have always been so observant, but also so willing to gather your defenses early.” She patted my cheek then poured the juice into the punch bowl. “If you have a worry, you should talk about that worry. But now it can wait until after the party. Perhaps Caleb is only planning something. Something wonderful. You should concentrate on the party and not your worrying.”

  I cocked my head. “Planning something? Is he? Do you know something?” She had a point and having her simply voice a direction to go in did help me feel much better. But now I could tell she was hiding something too.

  “Shoo. Shoo now, and take this punch outside with you,” she said, giving me a swat with a tea towel.

  I frowned, but my mood brightened considerably as I carried the bowl out the backdoor and looked out at the gathering.

  Hunter stood next to Lillie, who was looking much better than the first time I saw her. She had gained a little weight and looked much healthier, and I suspected love had added some rosiness to her cheeks.

  She’d been doing so well after spending over ten months in the California rehab center and was now immersing herself in plans for a second shelter after Caleb purchased the Good Samaritan that he’d installed sprinklers in.

  I was so happy for her and Caleb and Hunter that when she followed with cups, I was ready to face whatever happened today with a smile.

  My younger siblings had done well setting up the table, and even a few neighbors were trickling over to join the residents of the house. Kyle stood in front of the grill, flipping burgers and discussing sauces with Hawk.

  “Sis! Sis!” Honey and Isabella came running past Grace, who was stacking paper plates, and stopped in front of me, holding what might’ve been the prettiest dolls I’d ever seen. “Uncle Caleb got us dolls that look like us!”

  I took a closer look and saw that the dolls did indeed share a lot of the features the girls possessed. I looked to Caleb and he just smiled in that slightly nervous way he had earlier. I was pretty sure that he enjoyed giving gifts just as much as Honey and Isabella enjoyed getting them, but something was still wrong.

  “How beautiful. Did you tell Caleb thank you?”

  “Thank you!” they shouted in unison then dashed off, and as I watched them wrap the dolls in tiny blankets, I pushed my worry away. I knew, especially in Isabella’s case, that too much of their childhood had been spent with worry and making do.

  I crossed to Caleb and planted a kiss on his cheek. He pulled me to his side, letting his arm wrap around my waist.

  “I think Hunter is flirting with your sister.” I gestured to his friend, who was leaning in closer than necessary to carry on a conversation with Lillie.

  “I think he is,” Caleb said with a frown.

  “They both look happy.”

  I’d known there was something between the two the night Lillie went off to rehab in California, but I hadn’t realized it was as deep as it appeared to be. She’d been home for a month and according to Caleb, he’d barely seen Hunter outside of work because they’d been spending all their free time together.

  “I knew he had feelings for her, but she’s way too nice for him,” Caleb grumbled.

  I held in a laugh as Caleb’s frown grew deeper when Hunter’s hand gripped Lillie’s arm. In a teasing voice, I said, “Maybe she likes a bad boy.”

  Caleb’s eyebrows shot up. “Hmm. She wouldn’t be the first woman I know like that,” Caleb said, equally amused. “But who said Hunter was a bad boy?”

  “Refresh my memory. Who dragged you to an illegal fight in an abandoned parking garage?”

  “Ah, you have a point.”

  “Hey, everybody!” Colby called. “Come get it!”

  We watched as the residents of the house got in line to fill their plates.

  When everyone had lined up, I pulled on his arm. “C’mon, I’m starving.”

  “You know I’d never let that happen.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “If you had your way, you would package me in Bubble Wrap and have someone feed me at scientifically perfected intervals.”

  “That’s actually not a bad idea…”

  I joshed his arm before grabbing both of us a paper plate from the table. “Don’t you even think about it.”

  He raised his hands solemnly as if he were making an oath. “Consider it gone, dismissed to the void forever.”

  “Good.”

  We waited in line with my family and neighbors, even Caleb’s father had showed up for the cookout. We all sat on folding chairs or around tables that had been set up. More neighbors and associates of Caleb’s trickled in until we had a real crowd going.

  I thought back to when Mama and Sage and I had struggled to support the family without Dad. We never would have been able to afford a meal this extravagant. Now, we could if we wanted. We could afford to throw a party this big after a year of fighting and endorsements, and of course all of Caleb’s doting. We were finally in a much better position than we had been since we lost Dad.

  And I owed all of it to the man beside me.

  My heart panged at the idea that he wasn’t telling me something, and I found myself studying him uncertainly. Sage was telling him and Caleb’s dad a joke and both of them were laughing, while Honey and Isabella ate at their feet.

  Andre must have rolled up sometime while I was inside, because he was sitting on the ground on a blanket with his wife and their adopted baby, letting Clementine exclaim over the toddler’s tiny fingers and toes.

  Mama was boasting about Colby’s skills to anyone who would listen while he blushed vibrantly as he helped dish out the burgers.

  It was such a warm scene, and for the first time since Dad passed, I felt well and truly whole.

  I was so intent on cherishing the moment, burning it into my brain so I never forgot it, that I didn’t notice that Caleb had stood up. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat and asked for everyone’s attention that I snapped out of it.

  “Thank you everyone for coming today,” he said, his voice booming and confident. “As some of you may know, this is a celebration of opening the second edition of Good Samaritan Shelter, as well as the return of my sister and Cherry’s three-zero streak. We have so much to celebrate, but it’s also even more than that. This is a celebration of new beginnings.”

  Caleb paused and seemed to gather his thoughts, then his eyes landed on me. Something in his gaze made a string of giddiness draw up in my stomach, making it clench.

  “Cherry is the most hardworking, deserving woman I know. She has never taken anything given to her for granted, and to be honest, she hasn’t had a hell of a lot given to her but has worked for every portion.”

  I blushed at the compliment, wondering what the hell he was doing. Caleb wasn’t the type for overdrawn speeches for no reason, which meant that all of this had to have a point. But what could it be? I looked around at the faces of the others for a clue, and Neddie, the guard from Caleb’s building, winked and grinned.

  “This family, the Bowers, are some of the warmest, kindest people that I have ever met. They have welcomed me with open arms and made me a part of a unit that I never thought I would be able to experience.” Caleb dug in his pocket. “So, for that reason and many more, Cherry, I’ve been waiting to give you this.”

  Walking slowly to me, his shining blue eyes on mine, he pulled a small black box out of his pocket. I had no idea what to do. The whole world changed to white and tilted. My fingertips went numb as he opened the box and revealed… two sets of keys.

  “Miss Cherry Bowers, I have bought a house that’s perfect for us. Would you do me the honor of moving in with me?”

  All the air rushed out of my lungs as Mama made a horrified sound. I stood in stunned silence
for a second as everyone at the party watched without breathing.

  Move in with him?

  “After… well, I guess I should ask first.” Before I could say a word, his other hand dipped into his other pocket, and he dropped down on one knee. “Cherry, will you marry me?”

  “I—” came out of me as my eyes went to Mama, whose hands were covering her mouth. There was a quick twist of guilt for even thinking about leaving my mama and brothers and sisters.

  “Did you really think I would leave them behind?” He pulled out a ring of more keys. “I probably should have mentioned that I also purchased the house next door. It’s a five bedroom, three and a half bath. Plenty of room for all of them, and I’m having a covered walk added to connect the two houses.”

  I gasped, tears I’d been holding back spilling over, so shocked that no words would come out.

  He stood, wrapping his arms around me and planting a solid kiss on my mouth. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes!” I shrieked as I fell into him.

  A cheer rose from those around us, and I blushed furiously. My family rushed in for a hug.

  “You knew!” I said as Mama took me into her arms. “You had to know!”

  “Of course, my fighter,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Who do you think helped pick out the houses?”

  I couldn’t believe it. Set up by my own mother!

  But I couldn’t be happier. I didn’t think there had been a more perfect moment in existence.

  Even though I’d closed myself off to the thought of ever having a significant other, I had found my forever in the arms of Caleb Birchmeir.

  With my family and friends gathered around me and the love we all kept strong, I knew that this was just another beginning.

  Perhaps even the best one yet.

  THE END

  Continue on to read the second bonus book included in this copy!

  A Bonus Novel

  THE RACE

  Alice Ward

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  I like it fast. She likes it faster. Who will win this race?

  As founder and CEO of UnCaged Fitness, I sponsor some of the hottest fitness properties around. Top female athletes and models beg for my attention. I’m rich. I’m ruthless. And when it comes to my business, I don’t play around.

  Until Emma James and her beautiful curves comes to Daytona.

  With dreams of winning the NASCAR Cup, Emma has one speed — fast. She’s hot, deadly behind the wheel, and she doesn’t take crap from anyone.

  Especially me.

  Which only makes me more determined to have her. If she doesn’t take me down first.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Emma

  Crouching into ready stance, my hands grew hot and slick under my gloves. Lifting my helmet, I wiped a lock of hair from my face, only to find my forehead dripping with sweat too.

  Dammit. This was not the time to show nerves. Not here. Not at the ISM Speedway, where babies need not apply, and the men sure as shit got separated from the boys. I replaced the helmet on my head, dipped the shield, glad to have its thin barrier to hide my face.

  The track roared to life like a buzz saw, something that would’ve been deafening if I hadn’t practically been raised on racetracks. Fans in the stands above screamed and cheered. I pushed my helmet back, waiting, waiting. I flared my nostrils, inhaling that heady scent of gasoline and exhaust. I loved it. Daddy said I had motor oil in my veins — it made my heart pump.

  He wasn’t wrong.

  Now, my heart was pumping double-time as cars looped around, coming close to pit road. I gripped the pneumatic air gun in my hand, ready for Brody’s first pit stop.

  Brody, the little shit. My big brother, but only by ten months.

  Irish twins were what people sometimes called us. Growing up, we’d been inseparable, though we got in fistfights almost daily since we both inherited the James’s family famously bloodthirsty competitive gene. We’d never had much money, so it almost killed me when my parents told me they could only back one of us financially. I’d known before they even said it which one of us they’d choose.

  The eldest.

  The son.

  The decision had broken my heart. Especially since I was, at least in my opinion, the better driver. The more daring, anyway.

  I watched the chosen one hanging behind the air draft of blue car number seventy-three and wondered why he was pussyfooting around. He was such a softie, more of a girl than I was, the way he spent hours in front of the mirror, primping.

  Own it, Brode, I silently transmitted to him. Show them what you can do.

  He would, I knew, but not until later in the race. That was Brody’s signature move. Start coy, tentative, the dopey little tortoise, then come out full-throttle later, making them wonder what had hit them in the end. Me? I was all hare, all the time. I wanted to be front of the pack, from the first second to the last, air draft be damned. I didn’t want anyone ahead of me, didn’t want anyone showing me up.

  It didn’t matter if the track was dirt, concrete, or asphalt. It didn’t matter if it was oval or winding across a desert, long or short, I loved it. And I wanted to win.

  Especially now. Not when there were still macho assholes around who thought that a woman had no place going over the wall and should be home, barefoot and pregnant, the kids underfoot.

  I looked around. Jonesy, the jack man, had the jack ready, but he was forty and had been doing this since before I was born. Tom was the gas-man and six feet of pure chocolate muscle, fresh out of the University of Arizona at Tucson. He gave me lifting pointers sometimes. It was his job to deal with those eighty-pound gas cans, but he lifted them like they were pillows. Albert, the other tire man, taught me everything I needed to know about changing tires on the fly ten years ago. Those guys, I could trust.

  Who I wasn’t so sure about? The Sandersons, Jay and Dan, twins out of U of Minnesota, former college wrestlers. They were our new tire carriers, and this was their first race as part of the James crew. Cocky and good-looking, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes whenever they strutted in, exuding machismo like cheap cologne. My dad hired them because they’d done a stint in the Cup as part of the Stewart-Haas racing team, bringing Kurt Busch pretty close to a win. They had an impressive resume, and with Jonesy getting older and our average pit time ticking up to over fifteen seconds, we needed speed.

  Jay sidled up beside me. “I like the way you’re holding that gun, girl,” he said with a sly wink. “After the race, I’ll give you something else you can hold, if you’re good.”

  I turned to face him nose to nose, my lip curled up in a snarl. Whenever we were alone, they regarded me with one of two things — disgust or lust. That was one thing about working in a male dominated sport. Once you got down to the pits, there was no shortage of men who thought offering up blowjobs to the men who did the “real work” was a woman’s sole purpose for being down there. They were especially hot on attractive women, which they apparently thought I was. But really, any female with female parts qualified for the less-than-human treatment.

  Now, though, it was time to show them my real purpose.

  I pointed the gun at him and revved it a few times. “If you want me to use this on your lug nuts, Mr. Sanderson, I’d be happy to.”

  He pushed his helmet back, revealing a sly grin behind the shield. His eyes raked over me, and though I was wearing a men’s cut yellow suit that covered me from head to toe, you’d think I was in a skimpy bikini by the way he licked his lips.

  “I don’t know how you were raised in Minneapolis,” I continued, waving the gun at him, “but this isn’t the wild wild West, and the men I work with have better manners.”

  He shrugged, which only riled me more. “You gonna go tell your daddy I made you cry?”

  My fists clenched. Cry? Not likely. He didn’t scare me. This was Avondale, near Phoenix, near where I’d been born and bred, and no one waltzed into my house and gave me shit. I was more of a country girl, raised in
a little town called Wintersburg, fifty miles west of the city proper. There wasn’t much in that town but a general store, the Tin Top Bar and Grill, and the auto shop and gas station my daddy owned and operated. That, and a pretty damn good racetrack my brother and me carved into the dirt out back. Two things Wintersburg had a hell of a lot of — dirt and space. And Brody and I’d made the most of them.

  Tom nudged him, a glare in his eyes. “Cut it out, dude.” He leaned over the wall so that his apron sagged as his gloved hand wrapped around the enormous gas can. “Come on, Em, our boy’s coming in.”

  I whirled. Sure enough, Brody’d gotten out of the blue car’s shadow and was sailing toward pit road. I crouched again, at the ready as the car revved, tires screeching as it sailed into the stall.

  Fifteen seconds of controlled chaos. That was what these pit stops were. I wished I had time to ask Brody how he was doing. That was the mom in me. He’d seemed even more cautious than usual on that last lap.

  But there wasn’t time to even breathe the wrong way now.

  Instead, the six of us jumped over the wall in unison, like a dam breaking open. Jonesy got behind the hydraulic floor jack and raised the right side of the car as Tom jockeyed for position at the left corner, attaching the fuel filler, the gas can propped up against his shoulder. The two of them had been doing this so long that it was a blink-and-you-miss-it thing.

  Heart thrumming in my ears, sweat pouring down my temples, I was already down on my knees, spread low, removing the five lug nuts with my gun. Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, that was all it took. They flew everywhere, skittering over the asphalt behind me, hitting my shield. I’d done this hundreds of times, so nothing surprised me anymore. Next to me, Albert was doing the same thing, slightly slower than me, I thought with satisfaction. Jay, my tire carrier, rolled the new tire in, slapping it in place, then rushed off to throw the old one over the wall and grab the next one. With another five quick pops, I had it set.

  Had to do it quick but thorough too. It wasn’t unusual for a driver to lose a tire, and guess whose fault that would be?