Throttle (Jack 'Em Up #3)

by Shauna Allen

  “We’re going to church then making fried chicken for lunch. Wanna come?”

  My stomach automatically did a happy dance. My mom may not have been around much when we were younger, but her fried chicken was legendary. I checked the clock. “What time?”

  My mom’s voice hollered in the background for Hope to get a move on. She must not know about this invite.

  “Everything okay, Hope? Do you need to go?”

  “We’re leaving for church now.”

  Time management was something Hope still hadn’t mastered. In her eternally childlike mind, everything simply happened when it happened. “Okay.”

  “Will you help us make the chicken?”

  I sat up and debated spending my Sunday alone with Netflix or seeing my family. The chicken won. Plus, I needed to nag her again about seeing a doctor since that conveniently fell off her to-do list. “Sure. Tell Mom I’ll meet you guys at the house this afternoon.”

  “Bye.”

  She hung up, leaving me to wonder if Mom would get the message.

  Nope.

  When I got there that afternoon, my mother spun from the counter where she was flouring the chicken pieces, her face a mix of shock and pleasure. “Tori! What a nice surprise!”

  I smiled and kissed her cheek. “Hope invited me for lunch.” I shot my little sister a pointed stare.

  Hope glanced up from the salad she was making to give me a genuine smile. “Tori!”

  “Hey, Hopie.” All things were forgiven with my sister. Always. I sidled up and popped a carrot stick into my mouth. “Need help?”

  “Nope.” She resumed her serious preparation so I moved to the fridge for a Diet Coke. I popped the top with a hiss and lifted myself to sit on the counter near my mom.

  She shot me a quick smile. “How are things?”

  “Good.” Trace was too new to classify as shareworthy.

  We chatted while she battered and fried, filling the kitchen with the pleasant smells of my favorite childhood memories. Rare as they were. But I shoved that aside and enjoyed the day for what it was.

  Mom turned from the last batch of frying chicken to cover her mouth as a hacking cough overcame her. I jumped off the counter to help, but she waved me away. “I’m . . . all right.” Her cough died down, but left her with watery eyes.

  “Have you seen a doctor about that?”

  She rolled her eyes and flipped the drumsticks. “Why? It’s just allergies.”

  Somehow I doubted that. I made her promise if it didn’t get better soon, she’d go get a checkup, but I knew I couldn’t hold her to it. She’d never been one for doctors.

  As we were sitting down to our meal, my phone chirped. My mother shot me a scowl and I flipped the switch to silence it, but not before I saw Trace’s words. I couldn’t help my goofy grin.

  I’m impatient and can’t wait until Friday to see you. Ry is going to play with a friend tonight. Ice cream? Maybe more Eskimo kisses? ; )

  Trace

  I anxiously waited for Tori to respond. Was my shameless text flirting silly? Probably. I just couldn’t help it where she was concerned.

  Plus I needed to see her, to grasp a sliver of lighthearted happiness. Kristi had called again and I was reeling. She was keeping things amicable so far, but there was no denying the demand in her voice. She had rights where Ry was concerned, at least for now, and she planned to take advantage of that. I sighed and studied my phone.

  Sure

  Tori’s one word reply had my breath rushing out in a relieved exhale. I grabbed on with both hands.

  I typed a quick reply with the name of the local ice cream parlor and a time. No sense pressuring her with anything date-like such as picking her up. There was plenty of time for that on Friday.

  She strolled into Lic’s five minutes early, her wide gray eyes searching the place for me. When her gaze landed on mine, I waved, letting my smile grow. She seemed to get cuter and cuter every time I saw her. Tonight, it was tight white jeans, a hot pink T-shirt, Converse, a stubby ponytail, and the tiny diamond had made its reappearance in her nose. I’d never thought much about nose piercings, but it worked on her.

  “Hey.” She smiled as she approached, her gaze slipping to Blake, Delilah, and Molly, ordering at the counter, then Jesse and Rachel waiting for their shakes.

  I stood and offered her a reassuring wink. “I figured you might feel more comfortable with other people around. Plus, once they heard the words ‘ice cream’, they stalked me here.” What I didn’t tell her was that they all pretty much refused to leave me alone after I’d had a little breakdown at the shop after Kristi’s call. They’d looked about as shocked as I’d felt after that first phone call, and commiserated as much as they could, though they’d never understand the depths of my swirling rage at that woman.

  Tori laughed, oblivious to my turmoil, her face lighting up like sun shining on the water. “That’s fine.” She waved to Delilah and Rachel then leaned into me. “But, just for the record, I’m not uncomfortable being alone with you.” She winked right back at me.

  I tucked my hand at the small of her back and ushered her to the ordering line. I lowered my mouth to her ear, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. “I’ll be counting on that fearlessness on Friday.”

  She lifted her face so our noses brushed. “Yeah?”

  I studied her dilated pupils, felt the rapid intake of her breath, and was overtaken with the urge to taste her again. But I wouldn’t do that in front of our friends. Not yet. Not until I knew where we stood.

  I nudged her back and she seemed to snap out of her daze. “Time to order, pretty lady.”

  She blinked heavily then turned to the scrawny kid at the counter. “One scoop of coffee ice cream in a waffle cone.”

  Now I did get frowny. “Ugh.”

  She shot me a glare. “What?”

  “Coffee ice cream? Really?”

  “What’s wrong with that? It’s the perfect combination of frozen deliciousness and the nectar of the gods. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” I suppressed a shiver and ordered my banana split with extra chocolate syrup.

  Blake and Jesse shot me knowing smirks as we all settled at a couple of tables and the girls chatted about girly stuff. I gave them my best shit-eating grin and enjoyed how easily my girl fit in with my friends.

  Wait.

  Holy. Fuck.

  Bring that train back to the station.

  Tori was hot as hell, adorably cute, smart as a whip, and was a natural with my son, but she was not my girl. Not even close.

  Yet, even as I battled that thought, I glanced down to where our hands had naturally linked on her lap, then slowly up to her face as she licked her ice cream. I wanted to kiss that face all over and give the same attention to her luscious body that she was giving that horrific coffee ice cream.

  I relaxed a little as I realized it was simple lust riding my veins. Nothing more.

  She looked over and caught my stare. A soft smile lifted her lips, just for me, then she squeezed my fingers. I squeezed back and she shifted back to the others to continue their conversation about Marvel versus DC comics. Who knew someone so feminine and sexy would also be up on the intricacies of Dr. Doom? I sure didn’t, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t turn me on.

  We finished our desserts and I bolted from my chair. “Well, we gotta go.” Seriously. I drew the line at Daredevil and Elektra.

  Everyone lifted their eyes to me in confusion. I simply stared at Tori until she stood as well, offering a quick goodbye to everyone.

  Once the coast was clear, I hurried her outside, then yanked her by the hand to the side of the building and out of the light of the glowing pink neon sign. I pressed her against the wall of the shop, my hands imprisoning her on either side of her head. I studied the angles of her face in the darkness as the heat of the brick seeped into my palms. I tasted sweet cream and a hint of coffee in the shared air between us. Her gaze dipped
to my chin, up to my lips, then met my eyes again, and I lost it.

  I swooped in and kissed the living hell out of her. I swear, I would’ve swallowed her whole if I could have. She moaned into my mouth, her little body pressed against mine, the soft heat of her blazing against my groin.

  I lowered my lips to suck on the bounding pulse of her throat and she clutched at my waistband desperately.

  “Oh, my God.” Her whispered words came out more of a moan.

  I drew back, my face still pressed to her neck, inhaling her honeyed musk. “I must be doing something right if you keep praying when I kiss you.”

  Her laugh burst free on a ragged exhale. “Guess so.”

  We parted and I felt the void of her warmth immediately. She smiled tremulously up at me and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

  I took a step back. “Wanna walk a bit?”

  Her smile was genuine. Relieved. “Sure.”

  We moved out from our hidey-hole and began to stroll down the sidewalk. I caught myself before grabbing her hand again as we passed the front window to the ice cream shop. Instead, I waved at our friends and tucked my hands in my front pockets.

  She kept pace with me well, considering I probably had nearly a foot on her. “So . . .” She sidestepped a patch of purple flowers growing in a crack in the sidewalk. “How have things been with Ryder? Any better?”

  “Okay. Definitely not worse. He really seems to look forward to his time with you.”

  “I’m glad.” Her eyes caught mine in the flash of a streetlamp. “Anything new with his mother? If you don’t mind me asking,” she hurried to add.

  I swallowed. “Nothing new. Yet.”

  “Ah.” She nodded, her arm bumping mine, though I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose. “Can I ask you something else?”

  “Shoot.”

  She bit her lip, her posture unsure. “Have you told your friends?”

  “Told them what?”

  She flashed wide eyes my way. “That I’m Ryder’s counselor?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Oh.”

  I had a hard time reading her body language. “Is that a problem?”

  “No.” Her gaze darted my way. “I just . . . it kinda came up at dinner with the girls the other night and I didn’t feel comfortable saying anything. It’s your business, but it was . . . weird.”

  “Huh. Well, don’t worry about it. They’re all cool with it. It’s no big deal.” I nudged her with my shoulder. “Really.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely. They like you and think I’m a bonehead for not asking you out sooner.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me.”

  We laughed and strolled on, the moon rising above us.

  “So, I’m guessing you’re not from Baybridge either?” I finally asked.

  Her gaze snapped to mine. “You’re not?”

  I laughed, remembering the guys’ nickname, Moose Boy, for me. “No.”

  “Oh. You seem to fit in well here.”

  I felt, more than heard, the melancholy in her voice, telling me there was something to that story that made her sad. “Yeah, well, that wasn’t always the case. Luckily, I found Blake and the guys in auto tech class at school and found my home.”

  She seemed to digest this a moment. “So, where are you from then?”

  We paused at the crossing of Main and Oak and I faced her. “Lots of places. We traveled a lot for my dad’s job. But we lived in Alaska the longest before he retired here.”

  “Alaska. Wow.”

  “Yeah. Where are you from?”

  “Not far. Houston.”

  “Brothers? Sisters?” When the road was clear, we kept going.

  “Two sisters. One older, one younger.”

  It was beginning to feel like pulling teeth to get her to talk about her past, but I delved in, determined to know her better. “What brought you to Baybridge?”

  “A clean slate. I wanted to start over on my own terms.”

  That was the most enlightening answer I’d gotten so far and I wondered what she could possibly be running from.

  Before I could ask, she peered up at me. “What about you? You’re apparently a world traveler who ended up here by chance. You’re a single dad. You like your chocolate syrup . . .” She pretended to think it over, her mouth quirked in concentration. “What else is there to Trace Berringer?”

  “That about sums me up.” I winked and grinned at her.

  “Not buying it. Let’s start with family. Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  “I do. Two older brothers, Joseph and Samuel, both single and they appear to like it that way, and a big sister, Brandi, who’s married with two boys.”

  Her smile grew. “You’re the baby of the family?”

  “Sure am. Proud spoiled brat here.”

  We laughed together and paused wordlessly at a bench under a grove of oak trees, facing the town park and playground. I’d spent quite a bit of time here with Ryder over the years, but tonight it felt different. Secluded in a bubble of darkness, the cicadas singing in the background, with only the scent of freshly mowed grass and Tori’s hot honey perfume between us.

  Our legs touched and I stretched my arm across the bench behind her, letting my fingers toy lightly with her shoulder.

  She was silent a while, but her spinning thoughts were nearly loud enough for me to hear. “What’s wrong?” I finally asked.

  She sagged a little into me. “It’s just . . .” Her head bowed as she took a deep breath. “Things are moving kinda fast between us, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I’m not saying you’ve done anything wrong. I just can’t help but worry that I’ve started something I can’t finish.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Her gray eyes were wide when she faced me. “It would’ve been totally different if we would’ve been doing this . . .” She waved her hands between us. “. . . before I was Ryder’s counselor. I don’t want to jeopardize my job or any progress I make with him.”

  “I thought you said there weren’t any rules stopping us.”

  “There’s not, but that doesn’t mean . . .”

  “What? Doesn’t mean what?”

  She must’ve heard the disappointment in my voice, tinged with hurt. Damn it. She cupped my hand where it rested on my thigh. “Look. Our situation is complicated, you have to admit that.”

  My brain rebelled at the truth of her words. I honestly didn’t give a fuck about complications or rules or exes. I just wanted to spend time with her. Instead of simply telling her that, I pulled away and stood, pacing the edge of the grass.

  “Trace.”

  Her quiet plea stopped me and I slowly faced her.

  “I want to be with you, that’s not what this is about. I’m just trying to muddle through and do what’s right. Don’t be mad.”

  “You want to be with me?”

  She nodded.

  “Then tell me what I can do to help you figure this out.”

  “I don’t know . . . gimme a minute to breathe. You’re pretty overwhelming, you know.”

  Tilting my head, I studied her. She was a juxtaposition of beauty. Quirky with her piercings and colored hair and Converse, yet serious in her business suits and heels. She had secrets she kept locked tight but still somehow managed to be open and refreshingly honest. She truly underestimated her own power.

  “Fair enough,” I replied after a moment. “I get it . . . being man candy and all. Happens a lot.”

  She studied me, her eyes moving seriously over my face. Then a tentative smile curled her kissable lips. “Thank you.”

  I shrugged and plopped down next to her. “You’re welcome.”

  Her grin grew as she studied me out of the corner of her eye. “Your humility is shocking, you know.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “So I’ve gathered.”

  Tori

  “Good morning, Miss Waters.”


  I glanced up from the stack of behavior evaluations on my desk, my smile melting to a frown. “Hi, Mr. Myers.”

  Everett stepped into my office, closing the door with a soft click. Facing me, his watery brown eyes lingered on my cleavage a beat too long before he took a seat across from me. “How are things going with the kids so far?”

  I let the paper in my hand fall to my desk. “Fine. Thanks.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad. You certainly seem to be acclimating well for your first year. We’re all thrilled you’re here.”

  I tried to force myself to relax. Yes, he was a bit . . . ugh . . . but he hadn’t done anything other than be a smidge too friendly. Maybe I’d given him the wrong impression or was overthinking things. Maybe harmless idiot was his normal M.O.

  I relaxed more as we talked about work related items and a couple of the kids I was scheduled to meet with. His concern for their wellbeing seemed genuine.

  “Okay, well . . .” He stood to make his way out, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. “You know, I had a really nice time dancing with you at the Funky Monkey. Maybe we could do it again sometime?”

  I froze like a deer in the headlights. Literally. I wanted to play possum so he’d ignore me and move on, but he continued to stare, expecting an answer. “Uh . . . That’s probably not a good idea since we work together. Plus, I’m kinda seeing someone.” It popped out as a deflection, but it wasn’t exactly a lie. I was kinda seeing someone. A long, hot, tall someone with dimples and scruff and the tightest ass I’d ever seen.

  “Oh. Well. Okay then.” He left without making a fuss and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was reading him all wrong.

  Later that afternoon, I made rounds of the hallways, searching for stragglers or troublemakers. As I strolled past Mrs. Delgado’s room, I peeked in the small window in her door. I froze when I spotted the very dimples I’d been daydreaming about.

  Trace was laughing with Ryder and a few other kids as he cut what appeared to be fall colored leaves from construction paper. He sure was making it look fun, even as his fingers squeezed awkwardly through the pink kiddie scissors.

  I couldn’t help my grin.

  Deny it as I might, the man made me giddy.