Davey’s grin widened.
“Ergh.” What was wrong with him? He was the most arrogant man she’d ever met. “I did it for Ben, to see what kind of example you would set for him.”
Davey’s grin faded. Good. Because he appeared to be an asshole when it came to women. According to the articles and pictures she’d found online, he had a different woman at every track, or so it seemed.
“Didn’t like what I saw.” Now Davey was frowning, and although it was out of character, Nora took delight in taunting him. “Is it your MO to have a different woman at every race?”
A muscle in the corner of Davey’s jaw twitched. She stepped toward him, ready to have it out. But upon closer inspection, she detected something beyond the irritation. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge—unadulterated male desire.
In truth, she felt something too. Staring at him, her flesh tingled, her insides fluttered, and her heart raced.
Davey’s eyes raked over her.
He had such audacity, she thought, and at the she same time wondered if he liked what he saw.
What was she thinking? This was ridiculous. She wasn’t interested in Davey…she needed to stay focused on Ben. She slapped her hands on her hips. “Don’t you have anything to say?” she asked, her tone intentionally snippy in an effort to diffuse the tension.
But it didn’t work.
Davey closed the space between them and the air sparked and pulsed. Her head sputtered with indignation even as her pulse did a happy dance. Davey didn’t speak, but his eyes slowly dropped to her mouth.
Oh, not that.
That was a very bad idea.
She lifted her chin to tell him as much, but for once in her life no words came out. Instead, her lower lip quivered with eager anticipation and Davey swooped in, cupping his big hands around her cheeks and brushing his lips over hers.
His touch started out light as if he was giving her the chance to beg off. But she couldn’t pull away from his warm, tender, mesmerizing lips. She let out a soft moan of pleasure, and he slid a hand down her back, drawing her in closer. Moving her hands into his hair, she swept back his long bangs. He pressed hot kisses along her cheek and jaw before reclaiming her lips, this time intense and needy.
She didn’t have a lot of experience with men. She had only had a couple of boyfriends before Matt. But one thing was for sure—no one had ever kissed her like this. She tried to come to her senses, but her girly parts had other ideas.
Davey’s hands dropped to her butt and squeezed, making her jerk back.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice thick with both arousal and disbelief. She glanced down at his hands which were still clutching her big rear.
His eyes followed her gaze. “What can I say?” He gave her a lazy grin. “You’ve got a great ass.”
What? She’d never heard those words before. Matt, a gym rat, had been on her to work out more regularly, which she’d found obnoxious. She knew her chest and butt were big. Even so she was only a size 10—well, sometimes a 12—in order to fit her butt and boobs into various clothing cuts. But she’d been sensitive about her butt for as long as she could remember. She’d been a chunky child and her schoolmates had poked fun at her. Her own mother had nicknamed her ‘fat-ass.’
She sighed. Davey thought she had a great ass. Was he telling the truth? With his hands still on her butt, she lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes shone one thing and one thing only—red hot desire.
She couldn’t help herself. She put her hands around his face and tugged him back for more.
Davey was more than willing to go for round two. His mouth was all over her lips, her jaw, her neck. His soft, sweet nips made her whimper with pleasure. Her hands went on an exploration, moving through his hair, down his back, across his chest. When she slipped a hand under his shirt to touch his hard stomach, he let out a ragged groan.
From somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, she remembered the negative press about Davey’s womanizing. And it wasn’t just one or two claims. Combined, they could have wallpapered the walls in her bedroom. Even so, she had to summon up every ounce of will-power to disengage from his alluring spell. She allowed herself one last indulgence—a slow nibble on his bottom lip—then she put her palm on his chest and gave him a hard shove.
They both staggered back.
It took her a minute to catch her breath. After she’d pulled in air—a whole lot of air—she regained her composure.
Crossing her arms, she forced a riled look. “What was that about?”
Davey ran a hand over his face, through all that sexy stubble, looking every bit as bamboozled as she felt.
“Well?” While she waited for him to answer, Cosmo trekked into the room. She bent down to rub his ears. “Hi, sweet buddy,” she cooed.
“You wanted that every bit as much as I did,” Davey finally said. His voice wasn’t conceited nor was it defensive. Just a simple, matter-of-fact voice that was still a little breathless.
Rising, she pressed her lips together. They were still warm and tingly from his touch, making it hard to think straight. “Did not,” she said childishly. Well, she didn’t want to want it.
He put a finger under her chin and lifted her head. “Where’s my honest girl?”
His girl? Her heartbeat skittered with his sweet talk, but she could not do this. She had no luck with men. She’d just been dumped and the last thing she needed was a new man in her life. Even if she wanted to date again, she wouldn’t pick a playboy with an ego the size of a monster truck. On top of that, Davey was Ben’s father. Their relationship needed to remain platonic so she could concentrate on what was best for Ben.
Cosmo caught her eye and gave her a liar-liar-pants-on-fire look before trotting off.
Davey let out a low laugh. “I think your dog is making fun of us.”
Her gaze followed Cosmo until he disappeared, then she turned to Davey. “We can’t do this,” she said, ignoring her body’s sag of regret. “We need to focus on Ben.”
Disappointment flashed through Davey’s blue eyes, but he gave her a nod, then ran a hand through his bangs. “Again, I’m sorry.”
He’s doing the best he can. Pap’s words drifted into her head. Maybe he was, but he needed to do better.
“If you want to be a good role model for your son,” she said, “you’re going to have to step it up.”
Chapter Nine
At the local diner, Davey chatted with Ben while they waited for their food to arrive. He’d picked Ben up from school, helped him finish his homework, then they’d headed out to eat. Studying Ben, a sense of pride arose in Davey’s chest. He could do this father thing, after all. The key was keeping it one on one. It was easier to get to know his son without his crazy-ass friends and the posse of women they had with them along for the ride.
A little voice in Davey’s head reminded him that he was a part of that group too, but he pushed the thought aside. He could be a part of both circles, just not at the same time.
“What video games do you play?” he asked Ben.
“Angry Birds, Minecraft.” Ben’s face lit up. “Oh, and Forza Horizon racing.”
“Good choices.” It was a topic Davey could get into. “We’ll have to play sometime back at the house.”
“You play too?” Ben asked, his voice pitched with excitement.
“Sure. It kills time on the road.” Davey grinned. “Cruz says it keeps me out of trouble.”
Their waitress arrived with food. She placed their plates on the table, then slipped him a piece of paper with her name and phone number on it. “Call if there’s anything I can do,” she said in a low, risqué voice. “Anything at all.” She winked, then sailed away, her hips swinging suggestively.
“What’s that?” Ben asked, pointing at the piece of paper in his hand.
He shoved the paper into his pocket. “It’s part of the bill.”
“It looked like a phone number,” Ben said.
Damn, his kid was o
bservant. “Yes, well….”
But Ben’s attention had shifted to his food. “It’s a burger!” He said the word ‘burger’ as if it was heinous, like Davey was trying to feed him bugs or something.
Davey had taken the liberty of ordering for both of them. He’d selected burgers in an attempt to expand Ben’s horizons. Ben hadn’t protested when he’d ordered, although he may have tuned out while the pretty waitress recapped Davey’s NASCAR highlights.
Nora had obviously passed her eccentric food choices to her nephew, to his son. How would Ben make it in the world without eating meat? Many of the places Davey frequented served nothing else. He didn’t want his son to go hungry, nor did he want other kids picking on Ben.
“It’s good,” he said, taking a bite of his cheeseburger. “I eat them all the time.” Swallowing, he flexed his right arm muscles. “To get those big muscles you want, you’re gonna need protein.”
“Aunt Nora says I get enough protein.”
He tapped Ben’s plate. “Just give it a try.”
“But it’s a cow,” Ben said, his lower lip quivering.
“One bite,” Davey urged. Once Ben tried it, Davey was confident he would love it.
Ben slid his gaze between Davey and the burger once and then again. His forehead crinkled with misgivings so great that guilt kicked at Davey. If Ben didn’t want to eat a damn burger, who was he to force it on him? He opened his mouth to tell Ben to forget it, but it was too late.
Ben chomped into his burger, gnawing off a monster-sized bite. Once the meat was inside his mouth, it just sat there as if he’d forgotten how to chew. Ben’s eyes swelled, his cheeks turned cherry-red, and the rest of his face turned a pale shade of green. He chewed twice and swallowed hard.
Then, he threw up all over the table.
Jesus. Davey picked up his napkin and wiped a chunk of puke off his shirt while trying to figure out what to do next. He had no experience dealing with a sick kid or with messes of any kind. He had people who took care of this stuff. But not today. This was his son, his problem.
He rose. “Come on, let’s go to the restroom to clean up.”
Ben’s lips were shaking again.
Davey pressed a hand to the back of his neck. Anything but tears.
Ben slid out of his seat and burst into a noisy, full-fledged cry.
The universe was clearly mocking Davey today.
“I’m sorry,” Ben whispered in between sniffles. “Don’t be mad.”
Ben’s pleas made Davey feel lower than an ant’s belly. He was such an asshole. He pulled Ben into his arms, which of course, got more puke on his Hotlanta T-shirt. But this time he didn’t care.
“I’m not mad,” he said quietly. “At least not at you.” He was totally pissed off at himself. He was the worst father ever. “Come on, let’s clean up, then we’ll go grab a cheese pizza. Okay?”
Ben nodded through his tears. Their waitress appeared, looking a lot less pleased than she had before.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket. He pressed it into her palm. “Keep the change.”
He took Ben to the men’s room where they cleaned up the best that they could.
On the way out of the restaurant, Ben tugged on his arm. “Our waitress was pretty. You gonna call her?”
Davey choked out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to hear from us for a long time, buddy.”
Outside, the wet spots on Davey’s T-shirt froze to his chest in the cold night air. Glancing down at Ben, he sighed. The kid had his jacket open, flapping in the December wind.
When they reached his truck, he knelt down in front of Ben. “Let’s zip this up,” he said, but Ben tugged his coat away.
“I don’t like it zipped.”
Davey’s gaze zeroed in on Ben’s brown jacket. As he’d suspected, the coat appeared to be too small. He made a mental note to get his son a new coat. Now, he needed to talk about more important matters, something he wasn’t particularly good at.
He didn’t know what to say, so he started with a heartfelt apology. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what else to say that would make Ben feel better. ‘I’m an asshole’ wasn’t child-friendly talk—even he knew that—although it summed up his sorry ass very well.
“It’s okay,” Ben said, the usual cheer back in his voice. “I’m not a big burger fan.”
Davey couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I got that. I was wrong to make you try it, and I’m very sorry.”
“It’s okay, Dad.”
Ben’s instant forgiveness tugged at Davey’s heart. “What’s your favorite pizzeria?” he asked, hoisting Ben into his F-350.
“Romano’s,” Ben said. “They’ve got great pizza.”
Nodding, Davey rounded the hood of the truck and climbed in behind the wheel. “Where’s Romano’s?” It hadn’t been around when Davey’d lived here. Then again, there hadn’t been much in Serenity back then.
“It’s downtown,” Ben said. “Next to Nick’s Hardware.”
“Thanks.” Davey started the ignition, then turned toward Ben. “If you don’t tell your aunt that I made you try a burger, I’ll never ask you to eat beef again. Deal?”
Ben grinned. “Deal,” he said, and they fist-bumped.
That night Davey had a hard time falling asleep. He was a piss-poor father, although not for a lack of trying. He wouldn’t give up because his kid deserved a real father. A man who would have his back, support his dreams, and love him no matter what.
But how did he get there from where he was? He tossed and turned all night long. In the morning, he woke up lamenting his lack of parental support which had likely contributed to his issues with Ben.
Was that true, a voice in his gut challenged? Cruz had been there for him, from the earliest days Davey could remember. But Cruz hadn’t lived with them and thus, hadn’t always known what was going on. Before his mother had left, she’d been there for him too. She’d been kind, caring, and loving. While he’d always felt like he had to earn his dad’s love by winning races, his mom’s love had been the ‘just because’ kind. She’d also supported him, even when it had caused arguments with his dad. Like the time he’d desperately wanted to take Misty to a school dance even though it would cause him to miss a race. He could still remember the angry words his father had spewed at his mother after she’d snuck him out the back door. She had selflessly told him to keep going no matter what he heard.
He rolled to a seated position and almost squashed Daisy. “Sorry, girl,” he said, rubbing his golden retriever’s ears. She looked up at him with pure unconditional love, the same kind of love his mother used to give him.
He got out of bed, tugged on clothes, and then did something he never thought he would do—he called his mother for help.
After placing her phone on the nightstand, Steph picked up her orange tabby and did a little spin. She couldn’t have been more surprised—or more pleased—by Davey’s call. Even though she was sorry he was having a hard time adjusting to fatherhood, she was thrilled he had reached out to her.
“What do you think, Taz?” she asked, giving her cat a gentle squeeze.
Taz let out a mewl of protest but seemed to understand this was a big deal so he made no attempt to jump out of her arms.
“You’re a sweet boy,” she cooed. She rubbed his chin, then put him back on the window seat in his favorite spot in the sun.
She quickly showered and dressed, then made her way downstairs to bake a batch of snickerdoodles. They used to be Davey’s favorite. She didn’t know what his favorite was these days, but she hoped he still liked the cinnamon-sugar cookies.
As she moved back and forth gathering ingredients, she took in the pictures on her refrigerator vision board. The first was a beautiful sprawling home on a lake. She’d always loved the water and could imagine herself waking up to a view of the lake every day. The next picture was of a woman helping another woman. That was no surprise. Long ago, her therapist had indicated th
at she needed to be needed, perhaps because her own family had moved on without her. She’d addressed that need in part with her family at OTR. Next was the Eiffel Tower because someday she wanted to see the world. The last picture was a gathering of people, young and old, a family of sorts. She’d learned that families came in all shapes and sizes and that they weren’t necessarily blood-related. She knew this first-hand because she had a close-knit family of sorts at OTR.
As she was retrieving two eggs from the refrigerator, the tall, handsome, mocha-skinned man in the family picture caught her attention. Was it because he was surrounded by fair-skinned people? Or maybe, she thought, as she leaned in to take a closer look, it was because he looked a lot like Cruz.
Thinking about Cruz and his friendship over the years gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. She added the eggs to the butter-sugar blend, turned on the mixer, and lost herself in the Zen of baking.
Before she knew it, the doorbell rang. Finger-fluffing her hair, she made her way through the living room with a mixture of apprehension and hope.
She opened the door and found Davey leaning against the porch column. He had on blue jeans, a faded Ford T-shirt, and a jean jacket. He looked adorable with his long blond bangs and striking blue-green eyes that closely resembled Ben’s. But as she studied their depths, she detected a trace of vulnerability. She had a strong urge to throw her arms around his shoulders and hug him tight. But they didn’t have that kind of relationship…at least not yet.
Instead, she gave him a bright smile. “Hi, Davey.” She stepped aside to make room for him. “Please come in.”
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked after he was inside. “Coffee, soda?”
“I’d love a soda.”
“Sure. Make yourself at home.” She gestured toward the sofa and the plate of cookies. “I made snickerdoodles.”
Davey made a beeline for the cookies. He picked one up and lifted it to his nose. “Mmm. I haven’t had one of these in forever.” After taking a bite, he moaned. “These are really good.”
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