Love Complicated (Ex's and Oh's Book 1)

by Shey Stahl

  “I uh, um. . . shit.” Accusingly I jab my finger at him. “You did that on purpose.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. Grabbing you right now and fucking you against the table where everyone can see. . . that’d be on purpose. You walking in while I’m naked. . . that’s simply ideal if you ask me.”

  I can’t stop staring. Wouldn’t you? Ridge’s naked and the theories Tori had on him being hung. . . totally fucking true. Apparently they weren’t theories, and the boy had been gifted since he was fifteen.

  Oh God, look at that. He’s aroused. Well, a little bit. I can’t imagine that’s its full potential.

  He smiles and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well?”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Wouldn’t what?”

  “Um, that. . . .” Christ, I can’t even say the word sex. It’s been that long it feels like a forbidden word. Instead, I motion to the table and might even make a humping motion. I don’t know at this point. My heart is beating so fast I’m dizzy and don’t remember. “Against the table.”

  “Don’t tempt me. It’d be fun to taint your pristine criminal record with indecent exposure. Not that anyone around here’d give a shit, but I bet they’d watch.” He watches my reaction to his words. “Christ, you blush every time you look directly at me.”

  “Because you’re naked. Why didn’t you lock the door?”

  He shrugs. “It’s broken.”

  Oh, well that explains it, doesn’t it? And I’m still staring at his monster cock. It’s like seeing the sun and knowing you shouldn’t look at it, but it’s still fascinating to see how long you can actually look at it before spots form in your eyes.

  Holy shit, he has the most beautiful cock. I’ve only seen two in person but still, perfect, perfect, perfect.

  Guess what? He knows it. You’ve seen the Capitan Morgan commercials, right? He’s standing like that, displaying his dick to me.

  I’m just kidding. He’s not, but he should be.

  Focus, Aly!

  “Where are the keys?”

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “What keys?”

  I drop my stare to the floor. “For the ticket booth.”

  “In my jeans.”

  “And they are?” I try—God do I try–to only lift my eyes to his, but instead, I do another full body scan. Toe to—stopping in the middle, pause, okay, continue—head.

  The grin widens, and he winks, motioning over his shoulder. “On my bed.”

  “Can I have them?”

  I tilt my head sideways, refusing to move. “Are you going to let me have them?” I huff.

  His eyes, lazy yet brooding, make a leisurely tour of my body. He gives a teasing smile that says, come get them.

  “Sure.” He nods to the bedroom behind him. “They’re on my nightstand.”

  “Can you give them to me?”

  “No.” He chuckles, shaking his head, and I close my eyes, trying not to let his voice make me do something I’m going to regret. “You can get them yourself.”

  I hold my breath, my lungs burning. I let it out, slowly against the pressure building inside me. “Ridge,” I warn, or breathe, probably the latter of the two. It sounds damn near erotic.

  “Aly,” he mocks, laughing, and turns around.

  I repeat. Turns. Around.

  God, help me. No, really. God. . . are you there? If so, how do I resist him? Any ideas?

  Why am I resisting?

  Good question.

  Ridge tosses the keys at me, laughing. It’s like a motherfucking game to him. His eyes are on mine as he leans into the wall with his shoulder.

  A heat of embarrassment licks my skin. I’m staring at him naked, and he’s oh so beautiful.

  I bite my lip when I see what he’s wearing. Christ Almighty, my panties are drenched.

  His penetrating stare drags down my body.

  I breathe out, slowly, trying to will some oxygen into the rest of my body. It’s all going to my heart. “Did you purposely take the keys?”

  “Maybe.”

  Maybe? Heat pricks my entire body with tiny needles. I have to leave or I’m going to jump him.

  Without another word, I move to the front of his motor home, but hesitate at the door, looking back at him. He’s watching me.

  Sometimes I wonder how I find myself in these situations. Now I know.

  I play everything safe and try to control the outcome to my favor. I like plans and schedules and organization. The unknown, the unplanned, it scares me.

  Ridge, he’s reckless, indecisive, headstrong, slow talking, and conservative at times. He’s an asshole who thinks the world revolves around him, has a few friends, and trusts one of them. Always suspicious, he says what he wants and nothing else. He’s also passionate, easy to love, has sloppy smiles and silly jokes that make me fall for him despite my carefully planned idea of what love really is.

  He also doesn’t talk bullshit and never tells you something just because he thinks you want to hear it. And that’s how I got myself wrapped up in his ways again.

  You know when you look at the sun and see spots? We discussed this earlier.

  That’s exactly what happens to me when I see Ridge naked. I can’t stop picturing him and his monstrous cock. Cock-spots.

  For two hours into the race night, I do nothing but picture perfect, perfect cock and the nicest ass I’ve ever seen.

  “I saw him naked.”

  Tori hands a customer his hamburger, engines revving in the distance as they prepare for the main events. “Yeah, me too.”

  “Doesn’t count,” I whisper, tucking a twenty-dollar bill in the register and handing her back ten. “He was fifteen then.”

  “Still, I’ve seen it.” And then she tips her head to the right. “Well, it was dark out, but still, I saw it. Kinda hard to miss if you know what I mean.”

  I do know what she means. “I can’t believe he took your virginity.” I’m not officially jealous of her. My first time with Austin was in the bed of his truck behind the football field. I was cold, crying, and ashamed of myself because I wasn’t thinking about him. I was thinking about Ridge and wishing I would have given it to him. “Does Henry know?”

  Tori laughs, just once, and then levels me a serious stare, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Fuuuuuck no. He’d probably kill him.”

  “Did it hurt?” Why am I asking this? Girl, you know that will hurt.

  “Uh, yeah. You saw it.”

  “Truth.”

  “Wait. . . how’d you see it?” Her eyes widen with a strange amount of excitement. “Did you cuddle with him?” Cuddle is code for sex with Tori. Ada’s starting to understand what words mean and in turn, we have to use code words.

  “I was looking for the keys to the ticket booth, and he had them so I went to get them. He was in his trailer standing there naked after taking a shower.”

  “Totally planned probably.”

  “Probably.” And then I groan, sagging against the counter. “What am I going to do?”

  “Whatever you want. You’re technically not married anymore.”

  “But I’m technically not divorced yet either. I just. . . I don’t understand him. He’s nice to my kids, provokes me. . . so say I sleep with him. Then what?”

  “Well, the general idea from what I remember would be an orgasm. Hopefully a lot of them.”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I confess, hoping she might give me some insight into the dating world nowadays. Before Henry, Tori got around. I wouldn’t say she was a slut. . . okay, she was. She’ll admit it, but she wasn’t one of those who you thought, fuck, where’s her dignity?

  She just enjoyed sex. With more than one person. Sometimes at the same time.

  “Neither do I anymore. My kid sleeps in the bed with us.” Tori points up, sweeping a towel over the counter. “The last time Henry and I had sex was in the laundry room. I’m not sure if he got me off or if it was the vibration of the washin
g machine.” She turns when my mom hands her another hamburger to hand out. Her voice hushes as she whispers, “And I’m ashamed I don’t know.”

  I laugh quietly, leaning into the wall beside the counter. “I remember those days. Sneaking around the house trying to be creative while the kids sleep.” I do remember those days, somewhat. With twins it’s even harder because while Grady was a good sleeper, Cash never slept.

  “And then they turn to shit, and we stop having sex altogether?”

  “No.” I wave my hand in her face. “It won’t be like that for you guys.”

  Will it though? Does this happen in all marriages? I once read an article in Cosmo that said if you don’t work at your marriage, it won’t work for you.

  Is that what happened? We didn’t work at it.

  Ridge walks by, right about then, with Grady by his side and he’s holding his hand. My heart tugs at the sight of him holding my son’s hand. He’s only known them, what, a week? And here he is treating them like they’re his. Do you know the last time I saw Austin holding their hand?

  Probably over a year ago.

  I don’t see Cash anywhere, but on any given night at the track, I have no idea where my boys go. Just like when I was a kid. This track was the one place I was free growing up. I could go anywhere and didn’t have to worry about parents or anybody kidnapping me.

  Heat ripples under my skin at the sight of Ridge, the flush of sexual desire I haven’t felt in months now consuming any time he’s within sight.

  “When does Tyler get into town?” Tori asks, watching the crowds of people standing near the smoker to our left where we cook our smoked brisket for the sandwiches. It’s the best food at the track.

  I groan, wiping down the counter once more. When I get nervous, I clean. “Next Wednesday.”

  Tori catches onto the nervousness. “What’s that face for?”

  “He doesn’t know about Austin.”

  She laughs, knowing exactly where that’s going. “Oh, uh, good luck with that.”

  Tyler never liked Austin. He and Ridge were friends, but Austin, nope. Hated him. Maybe I should have gotten the clue back then because my brother likes everyone. “There may be a murder in town next week.”

  “I’m sure Henry will help him hide the body. He’s still pissed at Austin for what he did.”

  I laugh, removing the towel from the counter and soak it in the bleach bucket. “Funny, me too.”

  It’s nearing nine thirty when the main event is underway, and I spot him again.

  He stops near the picnic tables, talking to one of the track maintenance guys when he gets about a foot in front of me.

  While his head is tilted toward Quinton, his lips twist into a half grin when he notices that my eyes travel down his body. He’s in a pair of shorts and a black T-shirt that matches the darkness in his eyes. God, he looks good. Flushed cheeks, beer in hand, dusty skin and a crazy grin that has panties melting all around him. Women blatantly stare at him, watching him lean casually into the picnic table like he knows it.

  Jesus. Stop staring at him.

  How does he have this effect on me?

  Tori elbows me, hard. “You’re drooling again.”

  I straighten my posture, trying to compose myself as Ridge approaches the concession stand.

  He gives Tori a wink. “How ya been, T?”

  She sneers at him and tosses a straw at him. “I can’t believe I did you.”

  Did you? I snort. She’s been spending too much time with Ada.

  Ridge takes the straw and pushes it toward me, our fingers brushing in the process. “Yes, you can.”

  Sparks jolt through me and the visions of cock-spots dance in my head.

  Tori snorts, leaning in to whisper. “I don’t know how I do. It was the quickest three minutes of my life.”

  Ridge chuckles, running his hand down his jaw and then knocking his hand against hers. “Best three minutes of your life, baby.”

  Tori takes the relish bottle next to her, pretends to gag, and then squirts it on Ridge’s arm like she’s thrown up on him.

  Ridge stares at the blob of relish, then shakes his head and flicks it with his finger at Tori’s face. All three of us laugh, and Ridge’s gaze catches mine, and I’m locked in the darkness that’s working against me.

  Someone tugs on Ridge’s shoulder, and he’s pulled away, his duties as the owner endless on race nights. I watch him walk away, until he’s completely out of sight.

  The roar of the cars on the track during the last chance qualifier bring me back from staring at Tori, who is actually having a conversation with me.

  “You’re a bitch. You never listen to me,” she says, handing a bag of popcorn to a customer.

  The kid at the counter stares at her, as if she’s referring to him, and then walks away.

  “He thinks you called him a bitch.” I laugh, catching a glimpse of Henry and my dad walking together, my kids following behind them closely.

  “I was having a conversation with you, and you completely ignored me.”

  Crap. She looks offended. “Sorry?”

  “Whatever.” She rolls her eyes, leaning into the counter. “You need to fuck him so you can get your head right again.”

  She’s right, I totally do.

  As the teams load their cars in the back of their haulers and the patrons file out of the stands, I pull Cash and Grady aside.

  “C’mere you two.”

  They follow, both staring up at me. God, they’re cute, aren’t they? And I can’t fucking tell them apart aside from the fact that Cash usually has a frown on his face.

  They were with me most of the night. Helping with everything from scoring to pill draws. Whether I was in the pits or the office looking for transmitters, they were there, assisting and they deserved to be paid.

  “Can we help you every night?” Grady asks, hopeful.

  “If it’s okay with your mom.”

  Digging through my wallet, I hand them both fifty dollars. Might seem like a lot but they did good, and I wanted them to know it. I also can’t see very well—remember the whole practically blind and refusing to wear glasses—so I just grabbed whatever was the same in there and am thankful it wasn’t the hundred-dollar bill I had left.

  Cash takes the money, tentatively like he’s not sure why I’m giving it to him. He looks at it, then me. “What’s this for?”

  Prepayment for letting me have sex with your mom. Don’t look at me like that. I’m kidding. I didn’t say it... but I fucking thought it.

  I look down at them, turning my hat around backward. “Well, you do chores at home, don’t you?”

  They both nod and stare up at me curiously.

  “Think of this as like a job. You do work around here for me. . . I pay you.”

  It takes them a moment of staring at the money. Longer than I would have thought. If someone had given me money at eight, I would have pocketed and run before they could have changed their mind.

  “We have jobs now!” Grady beams, counting money he won’t spend. Believe me. He logs his money in a journal he keeps in his desk at school.

  Cash stuffs his in his pocket and turns to look over his shoulder at someone approaching us.

  It’s Aly, her purse in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She doesn’t even look at me and nods to the boys. “Time to head home, dudes.”

  Fuck, she looks good. Tanned legs, jean shorts. . . hair up revealing her beautiful neck I want to bite. You don’t know how badly I wanted to bed her over the dinette in my trailer when she walked in.

  “Ridge gave us money!” Grady shows her the fifty-dollar bill I handed him.

  Her wide eyes sweep to mine. Reminds me of the look I got in the trailer earlier, and I intend to keep doing things to warrant this look as it’s becoming one of my favorites. “Fifty dollars?”

  I shrug. “They did good tonight.” I nod to the front gates we’re standing next to. “I’ll walk you.”

  “You don’t have t
o.”

  “You can’t trust the people in this neighborhood.”

  Aly laughs, shaking her head as the boys start to walk ahead of us. “You really don’t have to, Ridge. I’m sure you have a lot to do here.”

  My jaw tightens. What’s with her? Does she really not want me around? It certainly didn’t seem that way in my trailer earlier. . . or at the concession stand. You saw the way she’s been looking at me. Am I imagining the attraction?

  “If you want me to leave you alone, just say so.”

  She’s quiet, her eyes on the sidewalk as we cross Oak Street and pass by her parents’ house. The lights are on, but I know they’re still at the track. They’re usually the last ones to leave.

  “I don’t want that,” she admits meekly, watching the boys ahead of us.

  They’re jumping in the air, trying to snag the branches of low hanging tree limbs lining the streets.

  “What’s your plan with teaching?” Aly asks, her eyes finally drifting in mine. “What happens when Mr. Burke comes back?”

  “I’m pretty sure those kids caused that accident,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. Only she’s serious, and I know why. She doesn’t want to get involved in something that’s going to eventually turn to shit again. “Once he comes back, I’m out of a job. It was only temporary and just kind of worked out, you know?” I bury my hands in the pockets of my shorts.

  “Are you going back to Santa Barbara then?”

  “No, I got laid off. Budget cuts. That’s why coming back up here seemed like a good idea.”

  She’s silent for a moment, then asks, “Henry said Madalyn wants you to sell her the track?”

  “She wants to make it into a tasting room.”

  “That’d be awful.”

  Just the mere thought of allowing Madalyn to have the property or even step foot inside the gates makes my blood boil. “I’m not letting it go. I wanted to give it to your dad, but he doesn’t want it. Said it belongs to me and soon I’d understand.”

  “And do you?”

  I chuckle and remove my hat, placing it on Cash’s head as he stands beside me now. “Not a fucking clue.”

  Smirking, Cash adjusts it, on backward like I had it and runs up ahead again. He taunts Grady with it, holds it out and then takes it away as if to say, look, I’m wearing his hat.