by Wendi Zwaduk
King didn't rouse the long-buried desire she'd worked so hard to forget. Tucker brought to life things she had fought long and hard to ignore. What if he had a tribal tattoo on his arm? Or his nipples pierced? The edgy look tended to work for Tucker. He loved his kink. So did she. Holy hell. She gritted her teeth. Again, Tucker Poston infiltrated her thoughts. Damn it.
Megan tore her gaze away from King's arms and removed the papers from his hand. “King, we need to be thinking about next season. Heck, next week. Who are we going to get to fill in for Mathew when Nicole goes into labour?” She shoved the papers into a file folder. “Dating is the last thing on my mind."
King's dark brows furrowed as he leant forward. “Nicole isn't due until November thirtieth. Maybe the baby will be late and show up post-season."
"I want to believe you said that because you have her best interests at heart, but I highly doubt it. You only care about number one."
"So?” Using his middle finger, he smoothed a hank of hair off her forehead. “Relationships should be a high priority when you're lonely and I want to be your priority."
Megan sank back in her seat. She opened and closed her mouth, but the words didn't come. King cocked his head. His cologne curled around her, suffocating her. Did the man bathe in the bottle? “We have work to do."
Way to sound...less flustered.
King edged away from her, but the predatory gaze in his eyes never faded. “Fine. You want to talk drivers. I'll get Paul Walker to drive. He's good in the clutch and likes the track at Homestead."
Her brain began to function more clearly. She sent up a quick thank-you prayer. “Paul's a decent choice, but did you forget? He's got a broken foot."
"He won driving for Green Ghost Racing with the cast on. He's up to a walking boot.” King shrugged. “I suppose you have a better idea?"
"Mathew said he'd be in—” she glanced at the clock above the door “—ten minutes ago. He's got some ideas and, since it's his ride, he has some say whenever he gets here."
"He probably got lost in the hallway. He can't tell left from right."
"Possibly because you scream at him rather than offering direction? Blaming Mathew because your temper gets in the way has spiralled out of control. He can drive if you tell him what you want without screaming."
"He's young and impulsive and something tells me he's got you wrapped around his pinky finger."
"Shut up."
A knock echoed on the door. Mathew popped his head around the opened door. “Heya, BL. What's shakin'?"
Megan stood and offered her hand. “Good afternoon."
King snorted and turned towards the windows. “Speaking of young and impulsive."
"You're not funny, King. I stopped to see Nic, since the doctor ordered her on bed rest until the tots come along. She's ready to be done with pregnancy."
"I'll bet.” Megan stepped around her desk, putting space between herself and King. “Have you any thoughts on a fill-in driver?"
"I've given this plenty of thought and I think I know what will work best for Blitz.” Mathew plopped down on the chair. “Tuck Poston."
King shot out of his seat on the desk. “Fuck you, she's tapped Paul Walker."
"Tapped? Hold on.” Megan rubbed her temples. “We won't get anywhere with you two arguing."
"This is insane.” King rested his hands on his hips. His words came out like an accusation. “Tucker Poston—Tuck, as you called him—ain't coming here."
"MPR released him this morning. I saw the press conference.” Mat folded his arms and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Done deal."
"Guy Turner probably got tired of Tucker's guaranteed eighth-place finishes."
Mat shrugged. “If you ask me, it looked like a piss poor deal created to put Boyd Clark in the main light. Tucker got screwed. Oh, and he's on his way here. I figured you'd want him for an interview or something."
"Hell, no. Tucker Poston can't drive for shit, so it makes perfect sense. No one else wants him.” King's voice boomed in the office space. “He's a—"
"Enough,” Megan shouted, cutting off whatever else King had to add. “I've had enough."
"Oh, don't tell me you're considering Mathew's suggestion,” King growled. “You probably still have feelings for the fucktard."
"Thanks for your confidence. I'm taking both drivers.” Despite the uproar in the room, her decision took some of the weight off her shoulders. She'd give Paul a one-off chance and if he worked out, fine. Same for Tucker. The better performer got the second truck gig.
"Cool. I wanted a teammate. Tuck's perfect."
"What?” King's eyes bulged. “You cannot be serious. Tucker's not worth a second truck."
"I'm very serious.” The half-formed plan came together in her mind. “Paul can fill in for Mathew. It's only one race. If he does well, then I'll consider him for the second full-time truck ride next year. But, I'm also considering Tucker. If he's truly available, then it's a boon for Blitz. We really can't lose."
King put both hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “We can lose plenty. If Mathew doesn't put it in the wall, Tucker will. Then we'll have twice the trashed machinery.” He rolled his eyes. “I'll bet you're even planning on teaming him with Eric Trask. Nice touch."
Megan flicked out of King's grasp. “Do you want to look for a new job?"
"I find it humorous that your ex-piece of ass is free and you're jumping at the opportunity to bring him on. Should I turn down the sheets for you? Or won't there be time? I hear he's good with a paddle and cuffs."
"Despite what you hear, you're on thin ice.” She held her ground. “You want me to chuck a perfectly good opportunity because you feel shafted. Read my lips. We aren't dating. Tucker and I aren't dating. Hell, I'm not ready to be in any kind of relationship with anyone."
The muscle in King's jaw tightened. “You're making a mistake.” He stomped out of the room. The slamming of the door ricocheted through the air.
"It wouldn't be the first time I screwed up.” Megan sank into her chair and rubbed the pendant with the pad of her index finger. “I've made plenty of mistakes in my lifetime."
Mathew winked. “You're doing all right by me. Plus, I have a feeling things are about to work out just the way they were planned."
"Oh sure.” So much for a two week reprieve.
* * * *
Tucker stood in the foyer of Blitz Racing. A single Chevy truck sat on display. The two pole trophies and score cards showing Mathew's finishing positions added a touch of class. For a young team with a shoestring budget, Megan had done well.
"Must be nice to belong,” he muttered. “I'm a man without a country.” For the first time in ten years, he didn't have a team or a plan for the future. He wriggled where he stood to shake off the unease. Sure, he could expect Megan to save his butt, but the past wasn't in his favour. If she had any sense, she'd run the other way from him. He'd treated her like shit and all because of another woman. Smart. Real smart.
"She's out of her fucking mind!” King threw his hat at the foyer doors. “He's a waste of a driver and resources. But she thinks he's hot stuff.” He wiped his mouth and yanked his phone from his back pocket. “Get me the boss.” He stomped out of the building, yelling into his phone.
Tucker snorted. “No wonder Mat can't drive. With a crew chief like King, he can't succeed."
"Tucker Poston?” A willowy blonde grinned from behind the glass desk. “I'm hoping he's not late if he's not you."
"He's me. Mat said to be here at ten. I'm here.” Tucker smiled and shoved his shaky hands into his pockets. This wasn't a job interview. Hell, it had nothing to do with racing. He wanted Megan.
"Good.” The woman winked. Her green eyes glittered. “And she said you were a terror on two legs."
"According to most people, I'm considered a nice guy.” He wiped his clammy hands on his pant legs. He'd never felt so nervous in his life. Wasn't because of the blonde...was it? Or maybe the thought he'd be pounding
the pavement come race weekend if something didn't come through with Megan? His heart skipped a beat. Had to be Megan herself.
Duh.
"It's not you, but it's you, if that makes any sense.” She shook her head. Blonde curls bobbed about her face. “Let me start again. I'm Janine Walters, assistant to Megan Rodney. We need a fill-in driver and we're looking to start up a second truck team. So, that makes you either our best chance or a complete wash.” She waved her hand, ushering him down the corridor. “She's waiting on you, so make her happy."
"Wait, what?” Tucker blinked, not able to process Janine's statements fast enough. Had to be her exotic perfume fucking up his brain.
Janine opened the door and winked. Mathew sat in a chair, one leg crossed over the other. A broad grin brightened his face. “Heya, man. Glad you could make it."
Megan folded her hands atop her desk. Instead of a warm greeting, she looked away.
Tucker sucked in a long breath and puffed it out slowly. “Hi?"
"Welcome aboard, man. It'll be nice to have you as part of the crew.” Mathew stood and gripped Tucker's hand. “You're just what the doctor ordered. A breath of fresh air."
"Do you always talk in cliches? I think you've broken about three copyrights."
"Never said I was original.” Mathew threw his head back and laughed. “But I'm all me. And I'm off. I'll let Janine know where I am.” He strolled out of the room, leaving Megan and Tucker alone.
Tucker took his hat off and raked his fingers through his hair. Getting fired had been the easy part. According to Mat, he'd been hired, but the thought didn't lessen the tension. “May I sit?"
"Please. I'm sorry.” She chuckled, still not meeting his gaze. “Forgive my lack of enthusiasm. It's been a day for the record books."
Tucker sat in the closest chair and leaned his elbows on his knees. He rested his chin on his folded hands. “I'm not exactly the answer to your prayers, am I?"
"More like a solution to an argument.” Defeat clouded her voice. Her sweet-pea perfume swirled around him. Like being wrapped in her arms. Sort of.
"I'm going to take a wild guess and assume King wanted Paul?"
Megan's shoulders slumped. The very corner of her mouth kinked as she finally looked at him. “How'd you know?"
"They're friends. Been buddies for over five years and both happen to hate my guts.” He hadn't planned on mentioning the slight misunderstanding concerning an ex-girlfriend of King's. Megan didn't need to know the woman left King high and dry to chase Tucker.
"Swell."
"Meh. I can hack it. Are they what's bothering you?” Tucker scooted forwards in his seat. “Tension doesn't look good on you.” The blue in Megan's eyes deepened. His stomach tightened and his hard-on wilted a bit. Once she'd stared at him with adoration and love in those eyes. High time to get it back. Things weren't right without Megan in his life.
She looked away. Back to blocking him. He needed a smooth line to gain her attention. “I'm not just here for a job. I'm pretty good at offering moral support if you'd like."
A long sigh escaped her lips and fluttered the hank of hair swooping across her forehead. “Let's focus on now. Janine's checking on the logistics of your release, but regardless, I'm putting Paul in the seventy-four truck. If things are kosher, you'll be in the forty-seven, paired up with Eric Trask next year."
"I'm yours.” A little early to admit the truth, but it felt right. She couldn't say she didn't know. She wore his damned necklace. Somewhere in her heart she still cared. More words lingered on his tongue. I'm sorry. I want to make things right between us. I have your name over my heart and I still love you. Whoa. Way too early for the big L, wasn't it?
"To drive."
The two words sounded so final. Forget the happy butterflies swarming in his belly. The ride meant nothing if there wasn't even the slightest chance of being with her.
"Meg, this is me. Something else is wrong. I won't let it go.” The lust in his veins ran much deeper than a superficial need to fuck her. The love he'd felt as a randy seventeen-year-old hadn't dissipated with time. If anything, it had grown stronger and deeper. She'd understood him and suited his needs perfectly, yet he'd walked away in order to boost his ego.
Stupid.
She swivelled around in her seat, giving him a great view of the back of the chair. “It's nothing."
Tucker stood and strode around her desk. With his back to the window, he knelt in front of her and took her hand in his. “Truth, babe."
"You don't let up, do you?"
"Still tenacious."
Megan sighed and narrowed her eyes for a moment. “Fine. Rick's breathing down my neck to sell Blitz to him. Paul's okay—I really don't know him well enough to make a comment either way. Mat needs the time off for Nic and the baby. Eric's top-notch, and King is...well, King. Life is peachy."
"If it's so peachy, what does that make me?” He cupped her cheek, needing to feel the softness of her skin. The faint scent of her perfume danced around him. His cock hardened behind his zipper. Here she sat pushing him away, while the few thoughts in his mind screamed to keep her close.
"A complication.” Her brows knotted but she didn't pull away from his touch. “And don't call me ‘babe'."
"Complication I can work with.” Tucker stood and tugged her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace. “Before you say anything, tongues can wag all they want. You and I are friends and you're upset. I'd be an asshole to let you sit and cry. And I noticed you didn't mention how you're feeling. We all get bogged down, and God knows this sport chews people up pretty damned fast.” He rubbed his forehead against hers, brushing kisses over her cheeks and nose. “Why don't we get away for a little bit?"
"Friends or not, I can't.” Megan pushed back in his embrace, putting space between them. “I have work to do and a meeting with Janine in an hour."
"She'll understand you need time to relax.” He released the clip keeping her hair contained and raked his fingers through the silky soft strands.
The tiniest moan erupted from her throat. “I don't know how to relax anymore.” She shook her head and squirmed the rest of the way out of his grasp. “Just go. I've decided to hire you. You can check out the garage and work out the details for the Homestead race with Eric. I can't run off whenever I please because I'm stressed."
No more arguing. She played the businesswoman well. Too well. She needed time to unwind and just exist. A plan flashed into his mind—the perfect spot to vent frustration and sling mud. And make love.
Tucker threaded his fingers with hers and insistently led her out of the building. If nothing else, he'd trust his heart and pray she still had an ounce of caring in her soul for him. She'd loved him once. Maybe he could show her how to love him again.
He stopped next to his motorcycle. “Let's take a ride. If you tuck your skirt up, you won't get it dirty. Promise."
"You haven't changed a bit.” Megan reached out but pulled her hand away from the bike. “I'll bet you still race these when you get the chance."
"You'd be surprised how much I've changed. I don't get to race the bikes much anymore. I wish I had the resources. I'd love to get back on the motocross circuit for a couple of races here and there.” Tucker eased her hand onto the handlebar. “It won't bite. Do you still trust me?"
"You want the truth? I'll tell you the truth.” With her right hand still under his, Megan fiddled with the buttons on his shirt and smoothed out wrinkles with her left hand. “Do I trust you with my life? Yes. With my heart? Not a chance in hell."
"You've wounded me, but I deserve it.” He plunked his helmet onto her head. “Take a chance and come with me. Please?"
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Four
* * * *
Megan hesitated another moment before she climbed onto the back of the cycle. Being so close to Tucker probably wasn't her smartest move, but, then again, anything dealing with him seemed to lead to heartbreak.
Tucker
grinned. “Give me a sec.” He rummaged through the pack on the back of the bike and withdrew a wrinkled windbreaker. “Arms.” He wrapped the jacket around her and nodded once. “Don't want you to freeze."
"Thank you."
"You'll have to put your arms around me."
"Duh."
He reached forwards then paused. “I've missed you and your smart mouth."
Megan averted her gaze, afraid he'd see the true lust and desire she hid. He lived to cause trouble then leave before the shit hit the fan. She'd stay guarded this time. Had to.
"Cat's got your tongue? I can work with that, too.” He climbed onto the cycle. “Hold on."
The bike jerked as he started the engine. Megan grasped his belt loops and gasped. The scent of gasoline and Tucker's cologne drifted to her. She closed her eyes. He'd asked her to trust him. Fine. Time away would be great. The problems wouldn't fizzle, but the relaxation might do her some good.
Good? Tucker could be so much more than good. Hell, the man had got past the fortifications around her heart so many times she supposed he owned her soul.
But more than once he'd stomped on her heart with concrete shoes.
She opened her eyes. I won't surrender to him. I won't allow him to get to me. The trees and landscape blew by in blurs of greens, yellows and blues. Memories pummelled her brain. Times she'd driven around with Tucker all night. Making love on the hood of his first car. Seeing him win his first feature.
The night he said he didn't love her any longer.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. From the wind? Sure. She'd lie and tell him it was the wind, not her heart splintering all over again.
He came to a stop at a traffic light. “We're almost there.” He turned in his seat and flicked the bug guard up on the helmet. His shoulders slumped. “You're crying."
"Just drive.” If she said more, the second wave of tears she was holding at bay would rush down her cheeks.
Tucker sped down the two lane highway to a gravel road. Dust swirled in their wake as he peeled down the stony path. Pole lights towered over a dip in the landscape. Her breath wrenched from her throat as they came to a stop.