Acres, Natalie - Pole Position [Country Roads 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Natalie Acres

  “Would you like to hold him?”

  “No,” Brant replied. “Thanks.”

  Colt continued to take in the girl’s inadequate housing. Her décor included a silk green curtain draped over two sides of the box with ribbons tied at all ends. A few small items were scattered about. A bottle of water claimed the space next to a soda can containing a bright red toothbrush with worn and quite disfigured bristles.

  “You have a lovely home,” he somehow managed, backing away from the heartbreaking image.

  “It’s not much,” she said, shrugging. “But I’m sure thankful for what I’ve got. This old box doesn’t look like a lot, but with the big branches from the tree to shield us, Ralph and I rarely get cold unless we have high winds or a real heavy snow.”

  Kentucky had been slammed with a lot of snow in recent weeks. He wondered how Princess survived freezing conditions and inclement weather when her home was a cardboard box.

  “How long have you lived here?” Colt asked.

  “About two years. Not in this box, of course, but when this one gets ratty, I go dumpster diving and find another one, good as new.”

  “You go what?” Brant asked, dumbfounded.

  “You know, prowl through the garbage cans.”

  Colt didn’t think he could stomach much more. Determined to fight back the tears threatening to slip down his cheeks, he finally managed to ask, “Honey, what is your name?”

  She bowed her head. Her arms dropped to her sides and she took a few minutes to answer. When she finally looked at them again, a bit of sadness flashed in her aqua-colored eyes, but it was instantly replaced with a new sparkle of blue. “I don’t have a name. I borrowed the name Princess because one of these days, I’ll live a fairy-tale life. I just know it.”

  Chapter Two

  Colt and Brant checked in at the Black Mountain Cabins right before the first ATV run. Brant hadn’t said a handful of words since their chance encounter with the little girl who finally admitted she wasn’t sure if she even had a name.

  After they unloaded their belongings and took a quick peek at their rustic accommodations, they rolled their four-wheelers off the trailer. “We have about fifteen minutes,” Brant said, checking out their expensive wheels.

  “Yeah,” Colt said. The lone word was about all he could manage. His mind was somewhere else.

  “I’ll make some sandwiches,” Brant offered, walking toward their cabin.

  “Okay.”

  Brant disappeared inside their temporary quarters, and Colt sat on the steps leading to the tiny front porch. Black Mountain in November looked like a chilly forest with bare trees capped in white, and winding trails sparsely covered in ice.

  The wildlife, somewhat scarce around their campsite, gave the outdoorsmen plenty of hunting opportunities, just like the fishing found in the various streams and nearby lakes. But even with all its beauty, there was a sense of despair hanging over the place.

  There was practically no way of escaping the desperate history the place was known for. It was if the ghosts of yesteryear stood at the county line and made sure those who entered Harlan felt their presence.

  The desperation lingered in the eyes of the locals, too. Colt noticed it when they’d greeted a few of the others joining the ride. He certainly detected it in many of the blank expressions of the men he saw there. Children, some of them anyway, weren’t dressed appropriately for the cool November day. Several of the younger kids didn’t wear shoes to speak of, since they typically lacked soles or were opened-toe and torn to pieces.

  There was no excuse for that, not in the South, certainly not in the United States of America.

  What the hell was Harlan County anyway? A third-world country?

  Pushing away from the plank boards beneath him, Colt went inside. Brant’s back was to him. “When we first decided to come here, what was your main reason for accepting the invitation?”

  “It sure wasn’t the promise of great company,” Brant teased. A few seconds later, he spoke in a more serious tone, “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to see this place again. My grandparents lived here. When I was a kid, I used to visit them. The only thing I remember about the area is what you see now in the faces of the people who live here. The poverty…that’s what I recall whenever I think of Harlan County,” Brant said, dropping the already-made sandwiches into a brown paper bag.

  There were three of them, and that fact didn’t go unnoticed.

  Colt closed his eyes for a second, which only made things worse. All he could picture was the little girl who lived in a box. The precious child who thought she was blessed because the current cardboard flaps held up in the worst of weather. Clearing his throat, he hurried for the door. “Guess we need to get down the hill if we’re going to make this Jingle Bell Ride.”

  “We need to find that kid first. I don’t want her going hungry while we’re here.”

  “And I think you owe her a few dollars for tea time, too.”

  “Oh no,” Brant said. “She’s supposed to provide us with some travel consulting while we’re here. She needs to earn her keep.”

  “How’s she supposed to do that if we’re riding all day?”

  Brant shrugged. “I figured we’d have her over for supper and see what she tells us. You know, after the ride.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “Come on. We don’t have time to mess around.”

  Colt grinned, tossed a banana in the top of each lunch sack, and said, “We may not have time now, but later, we need to take a moment to scout around. We might find a pretty Kentucky woman who doesn’t mind being sandwiched between two guys in the dead of winter.”

  “You won’t find one around here. The women in these parts have principles.”

  “Me too,” Colt said, slapping his buddy on the back. “I have plenty of those. I just misbehave every now and again.”

  * * * *

  Brant and Colt were late joining the crowd, and they almost missed the start of the first ATV ride. Fortunately, Brant had the pleasure of bringing up the rear, which meant he could check out the sexy chick riding in front of him.

  She had long red hair, a tiny waist, and an ass she could shake in his face any weekday, and several times on Saturday.

  Colt looked over his shoulder and caught him staring at the woman who’d caught and held his eye. Brant winked, gave him a meaningful stare, and returned to his own fantasies, quite vivid after the woman with bright shiny locks turned and shot him a quick, wicked smile.

  Brant had been without a woman for so long, he wondered if he and Colt would be missed if they convinced the saucy woman riding nearby to steer her vehicle off the beaten path. Finding a more secluded trail would certainly lead him to do what he’d longed to do for some time—bend a worthy woman over the seat of his ATV and claim her shapely ass.

  Reaching between his legs, he adjusted things so his hard-on wasn’t obvious. This trip might shape into something more than he ever expected.

  “Hey! Watch it!”

  Brant’s eyes met the menacing gaze of one hot-blooded hillbilly. He had greasy hair down to his waist, and a condescending snarl.

  Brant deserved the grimacing look. He almost plowed over him while he was thinking about the pretty woman in front of him—who happened to be riding alongside Mr. Hillbilly.

  Immediately, he swung his gaze toward Colt again. He drove past him and headed up the narrow path, moving ahead of a few other riders.

  He focused on one goal. He wanted to see if the redheaded siren wore a ring on the third finger of her left hand.

  He was practically at the front of the pack by the time he realized he’d left Colt way behind. He’d been so caught up in fantasies, contemplating how many ways he could lay down a stranger, he left a friend in his tracks.

  Maybe he needed to shelve the crazy ideas for the time being. Surely he could think about something else. The cool air kicked up a few notches as they followed the trails into the hills. His
thoughts slowly returned to Princess, the little girl who’d somehow warmed his heart.

  Right before they left on their ride, she’d been there in the crowd, searching for them. Brant could tell since she was standing on her tip-toes and waving her arms wildly.

  He’d handed her the bagged lunch, and Colt gave her the banana. She’d acted so gracious, like she’d just been given a couple of gourmet meals at a fine dining establishment instead of one bologna sandwich on rye bread.

  While they’d waited with the other riders, he’d watched her. She’d taken out part of the sandwich and stood there eating it piece by piece, a nibble here and an itsy-bitsy bite there.

  After the organizer of The Jingle Bell Ride made a few announcements, thanked the participants for their generous toy donations, and then gave a few friendly reminders—like the gentle suggestion that riders should not pass one another on the narrow trails—they headed for the mountains.

  Colt and Brant anticipated the exciting adventure ahead. Princess assured them she’d wait right there until their ride was over.

  Brant had a feeling she would keep her promise. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

  Chapter Three

  By the end of the day, Colt had serious doubt whether or not his ass would ever feel the same. Outside of an icepack on his rump, he could only think of one way to take his mind off the throbbing sensation. Since there wasn’t a willing woman nearby to distract him, he didn’t have to worry about whether or not he’d be able to muster up the stamina to entertain a lady.

  He tried to tell himself again and again that the ride was worth the pain. The cool mountain air was refreshing, and the natural beauty discovered along the way opened his mind to a world of possibilities.

  Steering through the rock garden and later managing to survive what the locals called the soup bowl—nothing more than sloppy mud stew—Colt had time to think. He put his life in review and decided, even though he was only twenty-two, he still had a lot of living to do.

  A cattle rancher, Colt stayed busy with day-to-day operations. He hadn’t taken the time to consider what kind of meaningful relationship he wanted, and he seldom went out. With attending the local community college at Walters State and working the farm, rest and relaxation was an unattainable luxury. He wondered if he hadn’t thought about pursuing a woman because he hated to admit he wanted something more than just a casual relationship. So far, the occasional fling was about all he had to his credit.

  He could thank Brant for that.

  When Brant first moved onto the neighboring property, Colt knew they’d spend a lot of time together. On occasion, they barhopped together. Brant never had a problem picking up women. He was pretty enough, or so the women said, with ash-blond hair that fell in curlicues over his shoulders. He was always tan, which women seemed to like, and he had perfect features—high cheeks, a long nose, full lips, and chocolate-colored eyes. He looked like a fucking rock star, and Colt, well he was ordinary.

  Colt had never been one for having sex with strangers, but soon after Brant moved in next door, he started joining Brant when he entertained women who were interested in threesomes. Colt had become so accustomed to sharing women, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to date alone. There was a long list of advantages to riding double.

  “Hey daydreamer, are you gonna sit there in the cold and sulk because I left your ass sittin’ on that trail, or are ya gonna follow me back to the cabin?”

  “Follow you?” Colt balked. “How about I race you?”

  The challenge was met appropriately. Brant sped by him at a high rate of speed and Colt caught up fast, swerving in front of him when the path widened. Dirt and gravel swirled around the large wheels. They cut their own path into the woods separating the area where the crowd waited and the road forked toward the campground.

  When they arrived in front of their camping unit, they were covered in mud. As they removed their helmets, Colt asked, “Wanna flip for the first shower?”

  He’d just started to dig for a quarter when he noticed Princess sitting on their stoop, watching them with curious, hopeful eyes.

  And maybe that’s when he saw his future flash in front of him.

  Chapter Four

  “You found me! Where’s Colt?” The child’s eyes filled with happiness a few hours later when they started a game of hide and seek. “I thought he was going to come and get me.”

  “He is,” Brant said. “You have to go hide again.”

  “No, it’s your turn now.”

  “It is?” Brant gave it a fair shot at sounding excited. What an effort. He straightened his shoulders and decided he really needed to loosen up. She was a kid, for crying out loud. Not the enemy.

  “Yep,” she said, nodding her head up and down. “And you’d better hurry, because I’ll bet he’s hiding behind the shower curtain right now. He wanted to take a bath and get that mud off his face.”

  Brant laughed. “Perceptive little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sireee!” she squealed, clapping her hands together.

  He was pretty sure she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “How old are you, kid?”

  “Nine.”

  Brant took a deep breath. Nine years old and living all alone. What in the bloody hell had happened to her parents? He’d have Colt ask her. He wasn’t sure he wanted to pry, and he was one hundred percent certain he didn’t want to hear her answer.

  “How come you call me kid?”

  “What do you want me to call you?”

  She shrugged and acted like she really didn’t care. “I guess Princess will work for now.”

  “Okay, Princess,” he said, trying to brush her off. “Go hide. Your king will find you shortly.”

  “No,” she said. “Colt is a prince. You’re the king.”

  “Why? Do I look like a king?”

  She shook her head. “Nope, but you act like one.”

  “How does a king act?”

  “Like a man who doesn’t know how to act,” she said all at once, trotting off like she was riding a make-believe stick horse, with leather reins to boot.

  Colt entered the small kitchen area with a wide grin claiming his cheeks. “That’s a child’s nice way of saying you look like a fellow with a corncob up his ass.”

  Brant grunted. Yep, he needed to loosen up some.

  “What’s eating at you?”

  “This kid is getting to me.”

  “She’s something else.”

  “Yeah, but Colt, we have to be careful. Attachments are formed in a short period of time.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Right now, I don’t have one.”

  “Good,” Colt said. “Let me know when you do.”

  Chapter Five

  They were about to send the little girl “home,” and to what? A soggy box? By morning that’s about all she’d have left if Kentucky caught another few inches of snow.

  Halfway through dinner, that’s about when Princess’s reality hit him. It was around the time Brant asked their young guest if she wanted to walk down to the campfire and roast marshmallows, which sort of took him by surprise. That’s pretty much when the world as Colt had known it changed forever.

  Princess stood up all at once and cleared the dishes, carrying them gracefully to the small area where there was a wet bar with an aluminum sink, refrigerator, and microwave. “I need to get back. I like to be in bed before the weather sets in for the night.”

  And her words iced the cake.

  Colt studied the child with porcelain skin and dirty hair. She had washed her face when she’d asked to use their bathroom right before dinner. Even though her hair was still matted and quite dirty, she’d tied it back away from her face using her own hair to secure and tuck the ends in the center.

  Brant took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and Colt saw his future again. Yes indeed. He understood what tomorrow held in store.

  �
�I had an idea,” Brant began. His jaw twitched, and he seemed to have a problem choosing the right words. A time or two, he ran his hand over the length of his face, and finally he said, “Would you like to spend the night with us here tonight?”

  She dropped one of the dishes in the sink. It was one of those heavy plastic plates, so it didn’t break, but she jumped anyway. “Don’t worry. It’s not broken.”

  For a split second, Colt thought she might cry. She acted frightened, like she expected to be scolded.

  “Even if the darn thing had shattered, it wouldn’t have been a big deal,” Colt assured her. “Brant thought you might want to stay here tonight. What do you say? It might be nice to sleep in a comfortable warm bed for once, huh?”

  Her eyes watered and she immediately turned around. “I don’t know. I’d have to think about it. I have a very hectic schedule. Besides, I couldn’t leave Ralph all alone. He might get scared of the dark.”

  Colt wondered how many times Princess had been frightened and all alone. “Tell you what, why don’t you leave the dishes. We’ll walk over to your place and grab Ralph, and whatever else you need. Then, we’ll come back and check out that campfire. See if it’s a good spot for roasting those marshmallows. What do you say?”

  She thinned her lips.

  “We’d be honored to have your company,” Brant told her.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted skeptically. “My grandmother used to tell me I shouldn’t hang out with strange men.”

  “And where is your grandmother now?” Brant asked in an accusatory tone.

  Princess shrugged. “Some say she went to heaven. Others, especially the women around these parts, swear she went to hell.”

  “Here,” Brant snapped. “You shouldn’t be talking about your dead kin that way.”

  “No, but I reckon it’s true. She was a mean somebody,” Princess said, laughing affectionately rather than looking like she caught the brunt of whatever cruelty the woman exhibited.