by Shey Stahl
Smiling, I shake my head. They remind me of Henry and me growing up. One good, one bad, both equally ready to cause trouble.
“So that leaves you here. . . for now,” Aly deduces quietly.
For now? I swallow, daring myself to look at her. “You say it like I’m here for a purpose and then I’m gone.”
Aren’t I? I certainly didn’t plan on staying when I came home, did I?
We’re at her house now, the boys barreling inside and I know for now, I’ve lost that hat because Cash isn’t giving it back. Part of me hopes he wears it in front of his dad. I’ve had the same black hat since I was in high school. Guarantee you the moment Austin sees it, he’s going to knock it off that kid’s head.
“Aren’t you?”
I glance around and then take a seat on her porch. “Last week, yeah. I wanted to leave the moment Burke came back. I wanted to sell it all and never look back at this sleepy town time and life has forgotten. But now. . .” I pause, my eyes moving over her face, her beautiful features lit up by the dim glow of her porch light. “I don’t think I could leave and feel good about it.”
Aly blows out a breath like she’d been holding it the entire time we were walking to her house. She takes a seat next to me, our shoulders brushing against one another. “Why’d you leave without saying anything?”
I never said anything to Aly after that night. Hadn’t wanted to. She turned me down and if you haven’t realized it by now, big grudge holder. “My dad didn’t leave me much of a choice. Either I left, or I was going to jail for that shit I pulled downtown. Brooks wanted to press charges against me.
She fumbles with her keys in her hand, growing more and more flustered by our conversation. Her voice is small, her body hunched forward as she attempts to curl into herself when she says, “You couldn’t have said goodbye?”
Silence screams over her words as I process them.
I watch her face, the sadness I caused, the life she lived because I left. Even if I had stayed, would it have been for the better? I didn’t do right by her from the moment we met. How was I any different? I couldn’t say I was the better choice and feel good about it.
My jaw tightens, and I stare at my hands, flipping around a bottle cap I had in my pocket. “If I had, I would have taken you with me and then I’d be arrested for kidnapping. Either way. . . jail time and I’m still not sure I would have had you.”
Her mouth pops open at my response.
I stare at her, silently saying: You were never going to choose me and you know it.
The boys draw her attention inside the house, snapping her back to reality and she breathes out slowly and takes a step back. “I better get them in bed.”
I nod, stepping away.
As I’m walking away, her sigh catches my attention. “Ridge?”
I turn but don’t say anything, waiting for what she might say next.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
She could have said anything to me, but she knew exactly what I needed to hear.
My brother’s in town. If your eyes aren’t wide, you must not have heard me correctly.
I’ll say it again.
My older—very protective brother—is in town for the first time since Christmas.
At the time, Austin and I were still married, and on the outside, everything looked fine. On the inside, I think now that I look back on it, I wasn’t happy.
Let me start out by saying why Tyler is in town, because for our small wine country town, it’s a big deal. Tyler’s a big deal here.
Every year when the World of Outlaws—a touring sprint car series—comes to town, my brother returns with it. Since he left Calistoga when he was seventeen to race all over the country, I rarely see him. That doesn’t mean he’s lost his protective instincts. Not one stinking bit.
Like a mother’s instinct to protect her children, I don’t think brothers ever lose the instinct to kick a guy’s ass if they mess with their younger sister.
When Ridge kissed me when we were kids, Tyler punched him in the face. He’s six years older than Ridge too, but Ridge. . . he didn’t care. He laughed in my brother’s face and said, “Pleasure’s worth pain,” and he was thirteen fucking years old.
What thirteen-year-old says that?
Knowing all of that, how do you think the night’s going to go when Mom has everyone over the night before the start of the Outlaw weekend?
Probably not well, but then guess who comes with us?
Fucking Austin. I want to believe he’s trying to be a better father, but it really has nothing to do with it. You know who does, don’t you?
Exactly. The only reason he’s going is because of Ridge. Just watch.
“Daddy.” Grady grabs his hand the instant he’s through the front door to pick them up for his night with them. “Can we go to Grandma’s instead? I want to see the kids there.”
Austin’s near the door, still in his black slacks and dress shirt from work. He glances at me, then Grady. “What kids?”
“That race car driver’s kids.” Grady drops down beside the door, attempting to get his shoes on while Cash refuses to come out of their room. I glance at Grady’s feet. He’s not wearing socks and trying to get his sweaty feet into his tennis shoes. I don’t know why but he refuses to wear socks. Says they suffocate his feet. As you can imagine, his shoes constantly stink. Welcome to the life of a boy mom.
“I like them,” Grady goes on to say, his bottom lip tucked into his mouth as he tries to push his feet into his shoes. “And my teacher is going to be there.”
A hitched breath is caught in my throat, unable to divert my eyes from Grady at the mention of his teacher. He didn’t even have to say his name.
I feel like I’m being stared at. You tell me. I don’t want to look up.
I dart down the hall to get Cash. He’s on his bed with his DS in hand. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I take it from him, and he glares. “Why’d you do that?”
“Your dad’s here. Time to go with him.”
He sits up and tries to take it. “I don’t want to.”
“Buddy.” I touch his cheek. “I know this is hard on you. I do, but it’s your dad’s night, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“I don’t like going over there. I don’t like her and I’m never going to.”
I love you. You can have anything you’ve ever wanted. Do you want a car?
“I know, but we have to make the best of this.”
Cash’s chest rises and falls heavily, his cheeks flushed with pent-up anger I might not ever understand. Blazing blue eyes narrow. “How come I can’t decide what I want? Dad got to decide he didn’t want to live with us anymore.”
My heart breaks for him. I can’t imagine the feelings he’s fighting. . . the letdown he has for the things Austin’s done over the past few months.
With tears in my eyes, I take his cheeks in my hands and make him look at me. “I know. I do. This sucks. It’s awful, and I don’t want to do it anymore either, but we have to make the best of it. We do. If we don’t, we’re just going to feel that much worse about it.”
Austin peeks his head in the door. “Let’s go.”
Cash doesn’t even look at him, and he throws his leg over the side of his bed. He stands and leaves the room without another word. Austin tries to ruffle his hair when he walks by but Cash ducks out of the way.
“What’s his problem?”
“You are.”
Grady’s still by the door waiting. “Are we going or not?”
Cash plops down on the couch dramatically. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“We’re going to grandma’s,” Grady tells him, like how can you not be excited.
“We are?” Cash asks, looking at me, then Austin.
Austin nods. “Yeah, we can. Let’s go.”
I want to puke. What the fuck is Ridge going to think when he sees me show up with Austin and the kids? And you and I both know how Austin’s going to act.
> What a nightmare.
“You really don’t have to come,” I tell Austin, hoping he’ll take the hint that I don’t want him here.
Over his shoulder, he gives me that look. The one that says, the fuck I don’t.
Notice me walking behind Austin nervously biting off my nails? I’m going into the lion’s den. You’d be biting your fingernails off if you were me too.
Tyler.
Ridge.
Friends, it’s about to be a real shit show.
We enter through the back of my parents’, and the yard is teeming with people. Tyler, as usual, brought most of his team with him.
I’ve met Tyler’s boss—Jameson Riley—numerous times over the years. He’s a nice guy, not like most professional athletes you come across. He’s won the NASCAR Cup championship something like eight times now, and he’s only in his thirties. That’s impressive if you ask me.
The boys find him immediately, ditching me with Austin the instant they spot Jameson and his wife next to Tyler. They have three kids, the youngest being the same age as the boys.
Grady tugs on Jameson’s hand. “Where are your kids?” No “hey Jameson, how have you been?” That’s my kid. One tracked mind.
With a beer dangling in his other hand, Jameson’s laughing at something someone else said, but looks down at Grady and points to the tree where all three of his kids are. “Over there.”
Both Grady and Cash take off to where the other kids are, and I’m grabbed from behind, burly arms around my chest pinning my arms to my side. “It’s ’bout time you came by.”
Austin rolls his eyes and walks away toward the cooler.
Twisting in his arms, I turn and hug Tyler. He smells like beer and gas, much like he always smells. His warm brown eyes beam down at me. “What took you so long?”
Drawing back, I smooth out my tank top, taking the beer he hands me. “We got caught up at the house.” I can’t tell him I was stalling because I know what his next question is going to be.
“Where’s Austin?”
Fuck. I sigh. I wait. . . sigh again. I point to the cooler where Austin disappeared to. He’s not talking to anyone; he’s staring at his phone in his hand.
Thankfully—by the grace of God maybe—Ryder approaches us. Ryder Christensen is my brother’s friend, they met racing USAC and is an eternal bachelor. I don’t think he’ll ever marry because flirting is his thing.
Like now. He kisses my cheek and winks at me, stealing my beer I’d just been given. “Where’s that husband of yours?” He takes a drink. “Finally dump him and give me a chance?”
Tyler has always been intuitive. I have never been able to keep a secret from him, a lot like my dad. I can’t lie to him. Like now.
Just spit it out, Aly. My hands shake. Like an allergic reaction, my throat feels like it’s going to close up. Behind the guys, Ridge’s standing near the fence, leaned into it talking to Jameson now.
Our eyes focus on one another and I can’t, don’t want to look away.
And then I look to Austin. He’s still staring at his phone.
“Austin and I are actually getting a divorce.”
Don’t look at Austin or Ridge. Take notice of my brother’s face. . . then Ryder’s. They glance at one another, and Tyler smiles. “Thank fuck,” Tyler whispers, but then appears confused. “Why is he here?”
And I breathe a sigh of relief. That wasn’t so bad, was it? “Grady asked him to come.”
Tyler takes a drink of his beer and then pulls it away. “Why?”
“Why what?” I ask, playing dumb and trying to hide the nervous look on my face by drinking the beer I steal back from Ryder.
“Why are you getting a divorce?”
Did I inhale sand? It sure feels like I did. I swallow, a few times.
Ryder’s arm wraps around my shoulders. “Now that you’re single. . . let’s talk.”
My apprehension drifts to Ridge again. He’s staring at Ryder’s arm, his jaw tight, the tips of his fingertips whiten around his beer, like he wants to rip it off. He raises the beer, takes a drink.
“Stop that. Leave my sister alone.” Tyler frowns and leans closer, knocking Ryder’s hand away. “Why are you getting a divorce?”
“He. . . well. . .” Oh, just spit it out. What do you care if he wants to kill Austin? You wanted to kill him too. “He cheated on me with Brie.” And just as those words leave my lips, the thirty-some people in the backyard chose then to become eerily quiet. Not that any of them hear what I said, but Tyler sure does.
It takes my brother and Ryder a minute to comprehend my confession. While they attempt to understand why Austin fucked my friend, something I’m still trying to understand, Austin smarts off to the wrong person.
Ridge.
I don’t know how or what transpired, but I see Ridge knock Austin’s phone out of his hand and shove him back against the fence, his blazing glare on my ex. “He wants you to play catch with him. Put down your fucking phone and toss your kid the goddamn ball.”
Austin shoves Ridge back, hard and into a table of food. “Mind your own fuckin’ business.”
My dad jumps up from his chair, separating them, his hands on their chests, talking low and calm. Tyler and Ryder rush over, naturally, but nothing transpires. Austin retreats.
It pisses me off he even came. Why did he? It wasn’t because of Grady. He came so he could make a scene with Ridge. I follow him out the back gate to his Jeep.
“You know,” at the sound my voice, he pauses, shoulders tense, turning his head to look at me, “I don’t really understand what all that was about. Were you there to spend time with them or were you trying to make him jealous?” Pushing my hair from my face, I wait, gauging his reaction. “Because I really can’t tell anymore.”
His glare is masked by the sunglasses, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t care if he’s jealous.” And then he nods to the backyard. “Have you fucked him yet? I know something’s happened by his reaction to me being here.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Austin. You care if he’s jealous,” I say, ignoring his comment. “It’s your intention. Stop lying.”
“I’ll stop lying when you do.”
I’m so tired of this I don’t even have the energy to react to him, but I do reply with, “Fuck you.”
“No thanks.” He laughs and reaches for the door handle, winking. “I got your friend for that.”
Would it be too much to ask if he was to you know, crash his Jeep and get paralyzed to the point his dick no longer worked?
Maybe then he couldn’t be walking away all the time, trying to purposely have the last word. And he couldn’t fuck. Two for one.
Turning around, I walk back in the house to find Ridge standing in the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest. My eyes go to his tattoos on his forearms, then his dark eyes.
“Where’s your husband going?” he asks, sarcasm lacing his voice.
Drawing in a heavy breath, I let it out, preparing myself for what he’s going to say next. I’m not sure how much more sarcasm from men I can take today.
He steps closer, and I can tell he’s had a few more drinks than I realized. There’s a flush to his cheeks, a slowness to his stare. He backs me up until I’m flush against the refrigerator door. I swallow away the words I know are coming.
His eyes dip to my chest, then higher to my lips. His left hand moves, cupping my cheek, his right still holding his drink. I can’t look at him. If I do, I’ll kiss him in front of everyone. I’m staring a hole in the door behind him waiting for someone to come inside and catch us.
He brings his drink to his lips to mask the sly grin forming.
Breathing out, his warmth washes over me. “When you were with him. . . did you think of me?” His voice lingers like his touch always does, wrapping around my mind like the suffocating vise.
I don’t say anything. I can’t. I’m speechless. Part of me wants to punch him in the face for being so arrogant. The other wants to k
iss him stupid.
When I don’t say anything, he chuckles lightly, the action slow and drawn out. “I know you did. Even now. . . when you’re near him, I can see it in your eyes.” His left hand remains on my cheek, the tips of his fingers digging into the back of my neck. “You hate him.”
“Ridge. . . .” I sigh, sinking into the cool metal against my back.
“Why was he here?” His lips barely move over the words, his eyes penetrating my soul with their depth. He knows things I don’t even need to say.
“Grady asked him to come.”
“And yet he couldn’t even toss the kid the fucking football for a minute.” Ridge swallows over what seems like a lump in his throat, his feet shifting, but his eyes never leave mine. “I hate seeing him next to you. I don’t like this.”
“Like what?”
He bites the strap of my tank top and yanks, mumbling around the fabric, “Not being able to kiss you.”
I smile, my cheeks burning. “You’ve only kissed me once since you’ve been back.”
He opens his mouth, the strap falls down, wet with his saliva. “That’s what’s driving me crazy.”
Giggling, I swat him away, the heat between my legs throbbing. I need him in ways even I don’t understand, can’t understand.
“It’s driving me crazy, too. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten myself off to the notion of what it will be like.”
Ridge’s eyes snap to mine, wide and confused like I’ve slapped him, and then he grins. “You’ve touched yourself thinking about me?”
I want to slap my hand over my mouth, my heart racing, cheeks blazing at my admittance. “More than once?”
Yep. Totally came out a question.
He growls out a breath. “So hot.”
And then we fuck in the bathroom.
What? You don’t believe me?
Didn’t think so. My brother walks in and steals Ridge, saying something about needing to take shots with his long-lost side-kick. Whatever. Looks like I’ll be getting myself off again tonight.
And then the thought crosses my mind, what if I do and send a video-text to Ridge of it.