Mrs. Ridley peers down at her daughter. “We were both worried. After the meeting tonight, come over for dinner. I want to make sure you’re well-nourished for tomorrow’s race. There’s a lot at stake.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Mimi.” She smiles.
“Yes, Mimi. I’ll be there.”
“Seven sharp.”
I nod and know last time I almost screwed the pooch by knocking on the door with only moments to spare. I was so nervous to walk into that house, surrounded by a family, to do something I’d never done before. This time will be different. The conversation will be easier, the feelings a little less overwhelming, and maybe it’ll be the perfect time to talk to Mr. Ridley about his daughter.
Mrs. Ridley walks away, and Faith pulls on my uniform. “I can see your wheels spinning inside that head. Whatever you’re thinking…don’t.”
“Princess,” I say with a smirk, and she yanks my sleeve out of frustration.
“Brooks.” There’s warning in her voice, but I’ve never been good at listening.
“Let me worry about what’s going on in my head. We both know you’re falling in love with me.”
Her eyes narrow and her lips tighten. “I hate you.”
“Denial is the first step.” I wink.
“I can’t deal with you right now. I have work to do,” she says before marching away from me in long angry strides.
My feet don’t move as I watch her walk away, those beautiful lush hips swaying, calling to me. I love seeing her a little worked up. There’s a fire in her. One I want. One I need to be a part of, and I won’t stop until she says the words I want to hear.
* * *
Hours pass before I make the walk back to my trailer after the team meeting. My body wants to collapse and get some much-needed sleep, but the rest of me is all about going to the Ridleys’ and seeing Faith. My shoulders are pushed back and my head held high as I weave my way through the crowd of people partying in the courtyard of the RV park.
Racing fans stop me every few feet, recognizing my face from the jumbotron at the track, and congratulate me on my first race. I smile, sign a few autographs, and soak up every bit of their excitement. There’s not a damn thing that could ruin my mood, not even Faith’s denial.
“Way to go, Brooks!” someone yells across the courtyard, and I wave in their direction.
“A woman’s waiting for you,” Maud, the trailer park resident gossip, says just as my hand touches the door handle to my place.
“Who?” I freeze and turn my head toward Maud and the other small group of campers sitting next door.
“I don’t know, but I never figured you for the older woman type.” Her eyes rake over me with a wicked smile. “I would’ve tried my hand at you if I’d known.”
Older woman? I have nothing against them, but I haven’t been with an older woman—at least one who clearly appears to be older—since high school.
My heart pounds wildly as I pull open the door and step inside.
“Hey, baby.” The voice stops me in my tracks.
I close my eyes as the blood drains from my face. I take a deep breath, knowing I can’t make a scene because Maud and the rest of the residents would eat that shit up. “What are you doing here?”
My mother unfolds herself from the couch and walks toward me. “I couldn’t miss your first big race.”
I back away before she can touch me. “You’re not welcome here.”
Her brows furrow, but she doesn’t stop. “Don’t act like that. I’m your momma.”
I laugh and shake my head. “You gave birth to me, but not once in my life have you actually been a mother.”
Even now, standing in my trailer on one of the biggest days of my life, she’s a mess. She’s drunk. I don’t need to get any closer to her to see the signs written plain as day. The entire trailer reeks of alcohol, and from the looks of her, she hasn’t been sober in a very long time. The bags around her eyes are more pronounced and darker than I remember. Her hair is filled with knots, almost matted against the side of her head.
“Baby.” The word slides off her tongue like she’s been calling me that my whole life. She takes two more steps toward me, and I swallow down the anger, trying to get my ass in check before something bad happens. “Aren’t you a little happy to see me?”
My head jerks back and my eyes widen. “Are you serious?”
The absurdity of the entire thing is beyond comprehension. She’s been missing from my life for years, not even so much as a phone call on my birthday or Christmas, and never gave a shit if I was alive or dead. But now…with me joining the pro circuit, she has dollar signs in her eyes.
She places her hand on my chest, staring up with a grin. “Can’t a momma love her child?”
I wrap my hand around her wrist and peel her fingers away from my body. “You’ve never been a mother. I’m only going to say this once. You’re not welcome in my life. Don’t follow me around the country. Don’t ask me for any favors. You’re nothing to me.”
Her eyes flash as her lips snarl. Where hurt should be, there’s only anger. She’s not here to love me. She didn’t show up to check to see if I was okay. The woman only wants money to buy more booze and drugs, losing a little more of herself and feeding the addiction that’s had her for over twenty years.
I tighten my hold on her wrist when she tries to slap me in the face. “If you want to go to rehab and get help, I’ll pay for it. You need or want anything else, forget I exist.”
The door to my trailer opens. “I didn’t…” Faith says but doesn’t finish the statement.
Fuck. I turn, releasing my mother’s hand, and move toward Faith. The position I was in, holding my mother’s arm with barely any space between us could look shady to anyone. The last person I wanted to see me in this situation, or meet my mother, just walked through the door.
Faith steps back and pushes open the door with her ass. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Wait.”
“Always the ladies’ man, Brooks,” my mother says, clearly not knowing when she isn’t welcome and doing everything in her power to insert herself in my life.
“It’s not what you think,” I blurt out, reaching for Faith before she can step outside.
Her eyes are locked on mine, and I can see the hurt in Faith’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have come here,” she says before running out the door without so much as looking back or letting me explain.
“Don’t shed any tears over that one, Brooks. A rich girl like her would never really love a guy like you.”
In that moment, with my mother showing her true colors, I decide to do something I swore I’d never do… I’m going to introduce the Ridleys to my version of family.
FAITH
“Brooks is late,” my father says as he glances down at his watch for the third time.
We’re standing in the dining room, each of us behind our chairs with the food already on the table. My mom doesn’t want anyone to sit until the final person has arrived. It’s some weird custom she has, and until now, there’s never been an issue.
My mom wraps her hands around the back of the chair until her knuckles turn white. “Anyone hear from him this evening?”
“He called earlier. An old friend stopped by to see him,” I lie.
I’m riddled with guilt by the way I ran out on him, but I couldn’t stand there in the presence of another woman and keep my cool. The way they were standing, almost pressed together as he held her arm. They were more than casual acquaintances.
My dad touches my mother’s hand as soon as there’s a knock on the door. “I’ll get it.”
No one says anything as he leaves the dining room. Roscoe’s too busy staring at the food to care about anything much besides stuffing his face, and I’m too angry to bother with small talk.
“Son. Who’s this?”
No. Freaking. Way. He wouldn’t dare bring her to my parents’ house. There’s a sudden burning sensation in my throat I can’t sw
allow away. Why on earth Brooks would bring someone else to our family dinner is beyond me. I thought he was a normal guy, but once again…I was wrong.
My father walks in first, followed by Brooks and the cheap floozy from the trailer. Roscoe’s eyes widen as he catches sight of the tramp traipsing through our dining room. I wrinkle my nose, trying to not throw up from the smell of alcohol and filth that seeps from her pores and fills the room.
“I knew you lied about liking older women after what happened with Ms. Constance, but dude…” Roscoe scratches his jaw and laughs. “I never would’ve expected this.”
What happened with Constance?
“Sit down and be quiet,” my daddy tells Roscoe.
“Who do we have here, Brooks?” my mother asks, somehow maintaining a smile.
My gaze slices to Brooks as he stands next to the woman wearing very little clothing and looking every bit a streetwalker. I hold myself back when all I want to do is march up to him and slap him across the face. How dare he bring her into my childhood home, throwing his sexual exploits in my face. She’s nothing special. If he’s trying to make me jealous, he isn’t, but my stomach’s rolling, and every butterfly I’d ever had disintegrates.
“This is Jane.” He pauses, and I narrow my gaze, throwing tiny little daggers at him with my eyes. “My mother.”
I start to stagger back and grab on to my chair for support. Brooks drops his hands to his side, and I turn my face, unable to look at him. I may have gotten the wrong idea about him and his mother, but there’s no denying the words Roscoe just uttered, not knowing Brooks and I had a…whatever you want to call what happened between us.
The last two words echo in my mind, and the entire situation now makes complete sense. Everything clicks as I turn my eyes to Jane, the very drunk and complete mess at his side. My eyes go wide, and I know I was a total asshole and jumped to conclusions about what was going on inside the trailer when I showed up unannounced.
Jane sways a little as she stands at his side. There’s a blank spot where one of her front teeth used to be, but she still cracks a smile, not the least bit embarrassed. “Damn. This is a mighty fine place you have,” she says instead of saying hello. Her eyes are roaming the room, taking in the antiques that line a buffet table near the front window.
Brooks is staring at me, and his jaw ticks. He’s angry, but I’m not sure if he’s mad at his mother or at me for running off earlier.
My mother walks around the table and never takes her eyes off Jane. “Why, Ms. Carter, it’s wonderful to meet you.”
I may have my mother’s looks, but her ability to be charming in every situation didn’t rub off on me. If I were in her shoes, I’d be walking the woman who’s clearly eyeing the expensive items right out of the house, but not my mamma.
Jane gawks as my mother extends her hand but doesn’t take it. “And you are?”
“I’m Mrs. Ridley.”
Jane purses her lips, giving my mother a once-over. “Lucky lady with the fancy house and handsome husband,” she says as Brooks covers his face and shakes his head. “I could’ve had all that too.”
“I’m sorry, Mimi, but I wanted to come in person and tell you that I’m unable to eat with you tonight. I appreciate you thinking of me, but I have my mother to tend to.”
“Don’t be silly, boy. Look at all this food, and I’m starving,” his mother says, slurring her words when she speaks.
Moving the chair out, I sit down and keep my back to them. I feel awful about his mother and the embarrassment of having her come around at an important time like this, but the other part of me wants to smack him straight in the face. How dare he pretend he wants me and that we were more than a cheap fling when he slept with Constance too.
“Let’s go, Mother. We’re done bothering these nice people.”
“But…”
“Let’s go,” he says with more harshness to his voice. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Ridley.”
I haven’t moved. I’m facing Roscoe, watching him shovel food in his mouth like he’s never eaten before. My heart’s broken, shattered in a million tiny pieces over a guy who isn’t even mine to begin with.
I know getting mixed up with a race car driver is foolish. I’ve spent too much time around them. I know they have wandering eyes and hands. I’d never settle for a relationship where my man isn’t one hundred percent committed to me, and that includes Brooks Carter.
Chapter Twelve
Faith
I plop down on the couch and drop my head onto the pillow behind me. “How could I have been so stupid?” I’m talking to myself. Something I do more often lately.
I barely ate dinner, much to my mother’s dismay. I couldn’t stop thinking about Brooks and Constance. Although my mother didn’t say anything, she kept glancing at me with a tight, pained smile. I’m the one who pushed them together. Me and my big, dumb idea. But how was I supposed to know I’d like Brooks? I’d never liked any driver on the circuit. Well, except Tommy Bows because he winked at me, but I was a naïve seventeen-year-old.
My head snaps forward as soon as I hear heavy footsteps in the stairwell. I’m on my feet and running toward the door, stubbing my pinky toe on the coffee table on the way. I hop on one foot, swearing and gasping for air as I hold my toe and try to balance.
“Faith.”
I plaster my back to the door and try to find my breath. “Go away,” I say, barely getting the words out.
There’s a loud thump against the door, but I don’t move.
“Please,” he begs. “We gotta talk.”
I inhale and rub the ache from my toe. “Fuck off, Brooks. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Let me explain.”
My body jerks forward as he hits the door again.
“I’m going to smack my head until you let me in or I give myself a concussion.”
I’m not letting him in. There’s no way I’m going to let him sweet talk me with a string of lies. There’s no covering up what happened. After dinner, I cornered Roscoe and made him spill the details. My stomach turned as he told me what Constance had said about her evening with the new boy. She didn’t tell Roscoe, but he heard it through the Buxton grapevine because nothing stays secret for long in this little town.
“Talk through the door. You’re not coming inside.”
I do not care if my dad gets mad because Brooks shows up tomorrow with a knot the size of a baseball sticking out of his forehead. There’s no way I’m letting him inside to work his hot man voodoo on me.
“I’m sorry about my mom. I told you she was a drunk and an asshole.”
I cross my arms over my chest and turn around to face the door, giving it the same shitty look I would give him if he were in the room. “I’m sorry about your mom, Brooks. Really I am. I’m not upset about her.”
There’s a long pause, and I think I’ve said enough to send him on his way.
“Then open the damn door. I need to see you.” There’s silence again, and I step toward the door, thinking he’s leaving. “No. Fuck that. I want to see you.”
He wants to see me? I don’t give a crap what he wants. I wanted to fall for a normal guy. Maybe someone who didn’t work in the racing industry and didn’t have a clue who my dad was or the kind of money I grew up around. But nope. That would’ve made my life too easy. “Why don’t you go see Constance,” I blurt out.
“Constance?” I can hear shock in his voice, but I don’t believe him.
He knows exactly what I’m talking about. He never even talked about his date with her. Just glossed over the entire evening, telling me how she was a nice lady and totally misunderstood. I take a step toward the door with my fists clenched at my side. “If you’re looking for a warm body, I’m sure Constance would be more than happy to keep you company tonight,” I say bitterly.
“Fuck,” he mutters and hits his head harder this time. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Constance is just a friend.”
“We’re fr
iends too,” I remind him. “We’ve fucked, in case you forgot.” I cringe, hoping my neighbors didn’t hear that. If they did, I’m sure it’ll get back to my mother before too long. “Just go, Brooks. Whatever happened between you and Constance is none of my business.”
“But it is your business, Faith.”
I lean forward and place my forehead against the door. Why does my heart have to hurt so bad? I can’t keep doing this, especially with the long season with us both on the road together. My heart can’t take this. “Just go home, Brooks. Leave me alone.”
“Not until you tell me what the hell you mean about Constance. I didn’t even touch the woman.”
We’re still talking through the door, and I want nothing more than to rip the damn thing open and see his face. Watch him squirm as I throw the truth out there, but I don’t dare. “That’s not what she said.”
“She’s a liar, Faith. You know how she is. Nothing happened.”
I close my eyes and lean my entire weight against the door. “I don’t believe you.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to believe Constance over me.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“But you do know Constance. Who do you think is telling the truth?”
His words are like a punch to the gut. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’ve known Constance my entire life, and she’s never been one for the truth. She’s never been an honorable person. I know better than to believe the gossip coming down the pipeline in Buxton, but I don’t really know Brooks, even if I want to think I do.
I push off the door and start to pace. “Just go home. Tomorrow’s a new day and the big race. We’ll start over again and figure out how to be friends.”
“What if I don’t want to start over?”
I shake my head and glance up at the ceiling, wondering how I got myself into this mess. He’s hot and you were horny. I should’ve known there was going to be a hefty price for letting my libido do the thinking and leading me astray.
Misadventures with a Speed Demon Page 12