by Lacey Black
When she’s under the blankets, I join her, pulling her body to mine, her back to my front. I drape an arm over her waist and curl the other under her head. I can feel her sag against me as sleep calls to her.
“Are you okay if I stay here? At least until Oliver wakes up?” I ask, my thumb stroking her soft stomach.
“I’d like that,” she whispers, snuggling back into my chest farther.
“I’ll try not to wake you when I get up to take care of Oliver,” I state as my eyes close in exhaustion.
“Well, if you do, there’s only one thing to do when we’re both wide awake in the middle of the night.” She wiggles her ass back against my cock, just to make her point.
I chuckle against her ear. “Naughty girl.” I sigh deeply and let myself start to drift. “That’s why I love you.”
Only I don’t think those words are in my head.
I think they were very much spoken aloud.
And I don’t want to retract them, even if I could.
***
“Hey, Mack,” Jim says with a big grin as I step into the kitchen. He’s standing at the frying pan, something that smells an awful lot like bacon simmering in the grease.
“Morning, Jim. How was your night?” I ask, headed straight for the coffeepot.
“Pretty good. Slept like a baby once I got to bed,” he says with a laugh.
“Hey, thanks again for helping with Oliver. I appreciate you giving up your weekend to come help me,” I tell him, sipping the hot cup of joe.
“It was no problem, really. I’m happy to help whenever you need me.” He removes the last of the bacon from the pan and places it in the oven with the rest. When he turns to face me, I swear I can feel every ounce of his focus solely on me.
“Can I ask you something?”
Jim picks up his own coffee mug and leans against the counter, facing me. “Shoot.”
I divert my eyes. “It’s about Lena,” I mumble, glancing up to see him smile.
“I figured as much. Come on, let’s have a seat at the table.”
When we’re seated across from each other, I finally ask the burning question that’s plagued me since she walked through my front door. “Do you think I can convince her to stay?”
Jim sits back, a sad smile on his lips and a far-off look in his eyes. “It’s my fault, Mack. The reason she didn’t want to go with you,” he starts.
My entire body tenses.
“I don’t mean it like that. I didn’t say anything to keep her from going, but I suppose it didn’t help that I dragged her around all of her young life. She lived in a motorhome, Mack. Yeah, we had a house, but after her mother passed away, neither of us liked being there much. Especially me. So I pulled her from track to track without really considering what was best for her.”
“You did the best you could, Jim. I’m sure it wasn’t easy being a single father and on the road.”
He’s already shaking his head. “No, it wasn’t, but I could have done better. Looking back now, I wish I had done it differently. I wish I had given her more than weeknights at a shop while I worked on cars and weekends at a track while I worked. She never complained though, at least not at first.”
He takes a deep breath and focuses over my shoulder. “It was when she was a teenager that I noticed the change. She was always this happy, easygoing little girl who loved to be in the mix of the action, but suddenly, she was changing. Hormones and all that shit. Mack, I had no idea what to do. That’s when I knew it was time to take her home, to let her grow roots. We sold the house we were living in and I found the track in Brenton. It was a fresh start for both of us, and exactly what we needed.” His eyes meet mine. “The problem was, I did it too late. She was tired of life on the road. She wanted a slice of normal. That’s why she couldn’t go with you, Son.”
My heart hammers hard. So hard, I’m sure Jim can hear it across the damn table.
He leans forward, his eyes still locked on mine. “Don’t give up on my baby girl, Son. She loves you but has to come around in her own time. You represent her past, the one thing she gave up and swore she’d never go back to. She tried to move on, but in the end, there’s only one man for my baby girl.”
My throat burns with emotion and what little coffee I’ve consumed turns sour in my stomach. “That night, the one where she was supposed to get married,” I stop and take a deep breath. “That’s the night of Oliver.”
He slowly nods his head, taking in my words.
“I was a wreck, hating life and everyone in it. Especially myself. Renee was there and we did a few shots. One thing led to another and we got drunk and slept together. It was the night I became a father without even knowing it.”
This is the first time I’ve ever talked about Lena and her almost marriage.
“I hated that guy,” Jim mumbles, sipping his coffee. “He was all wrong for her, but I knew she had to figure it out on her own.”
I nod my head. “It wasn’t until two weeks after that, when you showed up at the Pocono race, and told me she didn’t get married. I’ve never felt so relieved in my entire life,” I confess, recalling exactly what it felt like back then. To find out from Jim she was getting married. To a stockbroker named Perry, for fuck’s sake. I was a mess for months, but able to put all of my focus and drive into the racetrack.
Until that night.
The one where she was supposed to get married.
I had wrecked my car in qualifying and drowned my sorrows in tequila. Renee made it all better, or at least I thought she did. I woke up the next morning with a hangover from hell and a whole shit ton of regret. Only now, I could never regret it. It gave me Oliver.
“My point is, she wasn’t happy then, Mack. She put on a smile and pretended, but I know my little girl. Just like I saw it all those years ago when we were on the road. I knew she was unhappy, yet I couldn’t do anything about it. She was an adult and needed to figure it out on her own. Now, don’t think I didn’t try to do a little persuading, but I never forced her to make a decision.
“And I won’t force her now either, Son.”
His words make my heart drop into my shoes. Well, if I were wearing any.
“She needs to figure this out on her own,” he adds, leaning forward and setting his elbows on the table. “But I will tell you this, my little girl only smiles the real ones when she’s around you. Don’t give up on her, Mack. Show her what her heart has been missing, and I promise you, she’ll get there. You may have to let her go again. Heaven knows, my little girl is as stubborn as all get out. Gets it from her mother. But don’t give up on her. You hear me?”
I nod, taking in everything he’s said. I want her to stay—with me—forever. The thought of her packing up and heading back to Brenton makes me want to break something hard with my fist. But I know he’s right. I can’t force her hand, just like Jim couldn’t where Perry was concerned. She has to figure it out on her own, and the best way to do that is to remind her of how amazing we are together.
And how much I still love her.
“What smells so good?” Lena asks as she enters the kitchen, my son wide awake and propped in her arms.
“I made some breakfast,” Jim says, jumping up and placing a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “Take a seat and I’ll get it out.”
She slides onto one of the empty chairs, and I immediately jump up and grab her a cup of coffee, light on the milk and heavy on sugar. “How did you sleep?” I ask, setting the mug in front of her.
She gives me a knowing grin. “Pretty good, actually.”
I can’t help but smile myself. “Do you want me to take him?” I ask, as I set empty plates on the table and go to retrieve silverware.
“No, I got him. Oliver and I have big plans today,” she says, reaching her finger out for him to grab.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I ask, taking my seat again and glancing their way. There’s nothing better than seeing the woman I love hold my son.
“We’re going to t
he department store.”
My eyebrows shoot upward. “What for?” I ask over my coffee cup.
“A pool.”
I almost spit out the liquid I just tried to swallow. “A what?”
She grins from ear to ear. “A pool. Oliver was telling me he’d really love to do some swimming, since it’s such a beautiful weekend. Plus, it’s southern California and everyone has a pool, Mack.”
Jim snorts behind her as he sets the platter of bacon and a second one of eggs down on the table. “Sounds to me like you’re about to get a pool, Son,” he says, sending a wink my way.
Yeah, I read him loud and clear. I’m about to get a pool because I’d do anything to make her happy, anything to see that smile on her beautiful face. Whatever she wants, I will get it for her. Getting a pool doesn’t sound too bad, actually. It is warm in LA, and I wouldn’t mind relaxing in one at the end of a long day.
Plus…bikinis.
Tiny little bikinis.
Yeah, let’s get a pool.
Chapter Fifteen
Lena
I’m falling for him.
Again.
Hell, I probably never stopped.
That’s what keeps replaying over and over again as we make our way to Portland in the comfy motorhome. Mack is sitting on the floor, Oliver stretched out on a blanket between his legs. The little guy is kicking and swinging his arms, making happy little noises and gazing up at his dad as if he hung the moon.
I kinda, sorta agree with the baby.
My dad flew out on Monday afternoon, and I already miss him. Even now, only four days after he left, I’ve texted him every day to see how he’s doing. Fine, he says, but it still doesn’t quench the sadness I have being away from him. It’s as if having him near for those four days made me homesick that much more.
And then there’s Mack. I’ve spent every night in his bed, curled up at his side. It’s comfortable. Fitting. Perfect.
But the mind and heart are at constant battle. My mind says to pull away, take a step back sooner rather than later. I’m leaving in two weeks. Heading home to Brenton, Mack and Oliver staying behind. Then there’s the heart that calls to him, as if he were the missing piece to the puzzle of life.
I exhale and snap another picture of father and son. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. A few I’ve had printed and framed for his house, and the rest are stored in a file on my laptop. I supposed I’ll leave them for him when I return home.
“You okay?” Mack asks, his eyes cast downward as he makes a silly face at Oliver. Yet, I know the question is for me.
“Yeah,” I reply, forcing a smile.
He glances up and meets my eyes. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t call me on it. Instead he offers, “If you need to talk, I’m here.” That’s it. He lets me know he’s willing to listen, but I’m not sure I can. Not when the entire debate in my head is about him.
“Thanks,” I state, offering him a small, genuine grin.
Suddenly, a foul odor fills the room and our eyes turn to the baby. “Jesus,” Mack grumbles, covering his nose with the crook of his arm.
“Is that him?” I gasp, fanning the stink away from my face.
Mack goes to pick up Oliver and slides his hands under his body. Suddenly, he gives me a horrified look. When I glance down, I see why. His hands are covered in baby poop. Horrible, slimy baby shit seeping out of the top of the diaper, staining the onesie shirt he’s wearing, and ruining the blanket. “It’s between my fingers,” Mack gags, picking up the baby, yet holding him out, away from his body. “I think it’s everywhere.”
I bark out a laugh and go running for the bathroom. I start the shower, filling up the little baby bathtub and preparing it for Oliver.
“That’s not going to work, Lean. It’s everywhere. All over me too.” Mack is standing at the doorway, the poopy baby an arm’s length away from his chest. “I think I need to get in there too. It’s running down my arm.” He gasps, giving me a horrified look.
I toss the bathtub aside and make sure the water is a decent temperature. “Give me Oliver. I’ll strip him down while you do.” I turn my back to Mack and get to work on Oliver. It’s tricky as hell, stripping a baby while trying not to smear poop all over. “We’ll just throw all his clothes away,” I add. I’m not trying to clean them when we don’t have a washer or dryer available until we return to Los Angeles, and there’s no way I’m riding alongside this odor for the next three days.
I set Oliver down on the counter and grab some wipes we keep in the bathroom and start cleaning him up as best I can. However, I find some of it just smears.
Mack steps into the bathroom beside me and tosses a stack of wipes in the trash. He seems to have cleaned up his hands as best he can, but I can understand his need for a shower. I’d feel the same way. The moment his hands are poop-free, he rips off his formfitting T-shirt and tosses it into the pile. “The shirt can go. It’s tainted with the smell of my son’s foul shit.”
I roll my eyes. “You didn’t get any on your shirt, Mack. It’ll wash just fine.”
“Nope, it’s gone. Throw it out with the baby clothes. I think my jeans are fine though. I’m going to need you to unbuckle and unfasten them for me,” he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“Seriously?” I ask, deadpanned.
“Yep.”
I shake my head. “And those aren’t tainted with the scent of baby poop?”
“Not yet. Hurry up and get them off.” He gives me a wolfish grin as he holds out his arms and gives me full access to his pants.
My eyes roll wide. “That’s the worst logic I’ve heard in forever,” I state, adjusting Oliver so I can reach for Mack’s buckle.
“Maybe so, but it’s working right now, isn’t it?” he quips.
Somehow, I manage to get them unbuckled and unfastened and his zipper down so he can finish removing his pants. “Did you see that, Oliver? Your daddy thinks he’s so smooth,” I say to the now-naked baby.
“Your daddy is smooth, Ollie. Did you see how quickly she went for my fly? It’s a curse, little man, and someday, you’ll have the same problem.”
Again, I roll my eyes. “Get in the shower, Cruz,” I instruct with a grin.
He does as he’s told. I can’t help but glance down, his impressive cock hanging between his legs. “Stop gawking at me, woman. I’m about to have my naked son in my arms, and the last thing I want is a hard-on because I can feel your eyes objectifying me.”
I giggle. Just as I go to hand over the baby, water shoots out and hits me square in the chest. Glancing down, I see Oliver peeing, and I swear he actually smiles. Mack barks out a laugh as he reaches for his son. “Looks like I’m not the only one in need of a shower, Miss Stanley. Might as well strip down and join us. You know, to conserve water and all.”
I just shake my head and strip off my wet shirt.
Apparently, we’re all taking a shower…
***
“Two laps to go,” Coop says to Cruz through the headphones.
I’m in the box, trying to stand off to the side and watch the end of the race. Oliver is passed out again, sleeping comfortably in the carrier at my chest. I’m bouncing from side to side, more out of nerves than need to move for him.
“Daniels is making a pass on the low side,” Fish says, giving instructions on moving through the turns and keeping the competition behind him.
Just as they cross the finish line with one to go, the battle for second place heats up between Mack and Daniels. My eyes are riveted to the monitor as Mack does everything he can to keep Daniels behind him. As they head into the second turn, Daniels makes his move. I’m holding my breath as he dives down deep to pass Mack just as they head into turn three. They make contact with their tires, the result causing Mack to shoot up the track and Daniels to fly down into the apron as he struggles to keep it under control. Mack is able to right himself quickly and doesn’t lose the place as he finishes in second place, Daniels coming in right
behind him.
I exhale a loud breath as Coop talks to Mack about the incident. I can hear the tension in his reply, or lack thereof. The tension is practically palpitating through the headset as he makes his way around the track and pulls into pit road. The guys are there, the moment the car is stopped, helping remove Mack’s security devices and exit the vehicle. I climb down the ladder, but don’t approach. I can already tell it’s about to go down.
The moment Mack is free, he turns and heads away from his pit stall. Toward Daniels. The guys try to grab him, but he shakes them off. I can see his mouth moving, like he’s reassuring them he’s just going to talk to him, but a knot forms in the pit of my stomach. I can already tell this isn’t going to end well.
Coop is right behind me. The second he catches Mack’s movement away from our group, he sighs and heads off after him. I’ve never known Mack to be a hothead, but when you’re in the heat of the moment, all bets are off.
Oliver and I hang back, Daniels’ stall too far down the road for me to see them anymore. After a few tense moments, Fish approaches from behind me. “Hey, where’d everyone go?” he asks in that familiar Southern drawl.
“Umm, I’m afraid they may have gone to see Daniels.” The moment the words are out of my mouth, Fish takes off.
After what feels like the world’s longest few minutes, the guys finally reappear, all headed our way. They’re laughing and carrying on, Mack in the middle of the crowd looking all tense and broody. This is the side of racing I rarely saw. My dad always had me in the booth with him, and if anything ever happened after a race, I stayed put.
They all stop beside their car and then scatter when a reporter approaches. Mack slips his ball cap on his head and gives her a dazzling smile. Even though I can’t hear what they’re saying, I know she’s asking about that last lap and possibly what words were exchanged with Daniels.
When she leaves, he finally looks my way. Mack seems to relax a bit as he takes in my presence off to the side. He holds up a finger for me to hold on a second before turning to Coop to have words. The crew chief leans forward, speaking directly into Mack’s ear. Whatever he says, Mack just nods curtly before receiving a pat on the back from his friend then turning and heading my way.