by Amy Gregory
RACING TO LOVE
Eli’s Honor
AMY GREGORY
Copyright 2013 Amy Gregory
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the publisher. The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
DEDICATION
To Brian, my other half. Thank you for your continued support, your confidence in me and your help. I love you always.
To Katie, wow oh wow. I couldn’t have managed 2013 without you, both personally and professionally. I love you too girlie!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To MFS: Thank you so much for your amazing edit of this story and the confidence you’ve given me.
To DS: Thank you for your RTL covers!!
To all my friends, readers and bloggers who have become friends: Thank you so much for your continued loyalty. I hope you enjoy Mr. Eli Hunter’s fall, face-first, into love!
About the Author
Amy Gregory leads an incredibly active lifestyle in Kansas City with her husband and their three fantastic kids who keep them running in three very different directions. Amy is known for her snarky, off the cuff sense of humor, which you’ll find shining through in the characters she’s created.
I’ve spent my whole life trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, and now I’ve finally found it. – Amy Gregory
Contact Amy Gregory at [email protected]
CHAPTER ONE
The fourth ring of his cell brought Eli cussing into consciousness.
What the hell?
He kept the alarm clock on the dresser across the room as an added measure to ensure he actually woke up. A decision he was now reconsidering. Still blurry-eyed, he couldn’t make out the green numbers. In any case, he was sure he’d just fallen asleep.
Shit!
Suddenly it hit him. The ringing wasn’t the clock. Instant panic sent his heart into overdrive. He grabbed for the phone on the nightstand beside him. Fumbling in the darkened room, the television remote went flying and landed with a resounding smack on the wooden floor below.
Damn it! Where the hell is it?
He patted his hand along the surface feeling for his cell.
No one called at night…unless.
Fuck.
Yanking it off the charger without even looking at the caller ID, he answered before it could go to voicemail. He propped himself up, breathing hard. Ready to fly out of his king-sized bed and warm blankets, he ignored the shooting pain in his lower back radiating down his left hip.
Growing up together on motocross tracks across the country had forged a bond between Eli and his two best friends, Carter Sterling and Jesse Frost. Much stronger than just friends, theirs was a brotherhood. For over four years now, Eli had called Pennsylvania home. Funny that as a child growing up, even though he traveled all over the States, he never thought of home as anywhere but his parents’ house in Florida. Now he couldn’t ever imagine going back.
Shortly after Jesse had his heart broken by his old high school’s ice queen, Molly stepped in, all five feet of her, forcing three grown men to do as she said in order to cheer their friend up. She demanded, with a twinkle in her eye, that they spend the break between racing seasons on her parents’ property on the secluded countryside of Pennsylvania. Of course there was no fight in Carter because he’d fallen head over heels in love with Molly, but in the end, Eli and Jesse caved. The batting of her deep blue eyes proved to be the downfall of them all, but one step onto the Noland’s land and Eli knew he’d been invited to Heaven.
After Carter proposed to Molly, her father, James, convinced them all that his offer to buy sections of land off his property was genuine. Both Jesse and Eli jumped on the opportunity. The ten acres Eli purchased were the most secluded of the entire Noland property. Eli’s own little corner of paradise, where his lavish Mediterranean-styled home, with its stone and stucco exterior, had become his escape.
He loved the serenity of the wide-open land covered in maples and pines, his only neighbors—his two best friends and the Nolands. Even though Eli actually paid for and owned his ten acres, the entire area as a whole was still lovingly referred to as The Noland Property. It probably always would be, and Eli was fine with that.
Over six hundred acres tucked in the countryside, it was their own little world. He was at peace here amongst the silence. Located on the corner off the main paved road, his house had no traffic, only the sounds of the birds and the bikes on the track in the distance.
“Mol? Everything okay? The kids?” He spat out his words in rapid fire, quicker than the caller could answer.
“Breathe, Eli. Alex and Jack are fine.”
At Molly’s reassurance on the other end of the line, Eli’s breath came out in a whoosh. He fell back against the plush pillow and laid his forearm over his eyes to block the slivers of sunlight coming in from in between the cracks of the thick, dark curtains hanging from his bedroom windows.
His heart started pounding a smoother rhythm as relief washed over him.
“Damn, Mol. You scared the fucking shit out of me, girl. What time is it anyway?” The growl escaped with words harsher than he meant. He let out a deep breath. Being awakened from a dead sleep, by what he was sure was an emergency call, was not how he needed to start his day. It seemed to be taking an extra minute to get his breathing back to normal. This was going to be a Monday all over again, even though he’d had not one, but two of those already this week.
“I’m sorry, E.” Molly apologized, although he sensed the rude awakening hadn’t been her first concern.
“No, Mol. It’s fine,” he said not bothering to cover the yawn that slipped out. “But unless the twins are staying with me, I try to sleep past seven.” He shifted and the thousand needles in his back reminded him not to move like that again.
The grin crossed his face in spite of himself. When Molly and Carter’s twins spent the night, his usual wake up call started with two little children bouncing on his bed. He’d only been injured once. An elbow to the cheekbone left a bruise that lasted a couple of days and earned him a ration of shit throughout the shop. He could deal with that, but he couldn’t take more than what he considered his fair share of accidental hits to the family jewels when he’d been fallen upon by a laughing kiddo. At which point he happily turned the twins loose on any one or all of the students who happened to be bunking at his house while they were enrolled in the riding academy.
Unlucky victims.
Eli had yet to feel sorry for any one of them, and the teens seemed to take to having the twins rule the roost on the Noland property. It was sort of an unspoken rule that anyone involved with the academy helped watch over the kids. It didn’t matter if they were on the payroll or a kid paying to be there.
“So, to what do I owe this lovely wake-up call anyway?” Eli ran his hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up.
“Can you just…um, meet me here…at the school?”
“You can’t just tell me over the phone?” He would have rolled his eyes, but that would require he open them first.
“Please?”
Eli waited for an explanation, a detail or just a hint, but got none. He let out a grunt. “Fine. I’ll be there in a few. At least let me shower first. You got coffee?”
It was a stupid question on his part. There was a gourmet coffee maker just outside Molly’s office door. He could ju
st about smell the aroma. That coffee was almost good enough to warrant dragging his butt out of bed—almost. It was just an attempt to make her feel bad, but by the sound of Molly’s voice on the other end, it didn’t work. He could hear the nerves and excitement in her tone, popping and cracking like a teenage girl’s.
“Eli? Are you coming?”
“Yes. I’m getting up.” Eli said as he pulled the covers back up over his chest, settling himself comfortably back under the thick down comforter.
“I heard the blankets. Don’t close your eyes.”
“Ah, D.” Resorting back to her nickname, Super Cross Darling, that he’d lovingly given her years before, he pleaded, “Can’t I sleep one more hour…please?” Again, his question met with silence. With an exaggerated huff, he threw back the blankets and sheet in one swoop. “Fine.”
Eli sat up, winced, and slowly blew out the breath he’d sucked in. He swung his legs off the bed, and his feet hit the cold wooden floor. It was beautiful, and he loved the planks of refurbished wood but damn, it was freaking cold first thing in the morning.
“You’re up?”
“I’m up. I’m up.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I am. I’m walking.” Eli held his phone out in front of him and stuck out his tongue at the inanimate object before putting it back up to his ear.
“Are you sure? You’re not lying are you? I know you. You’ll roll over and be sound asleep again in seconds.”
“Yes, I am sure. I’m walking into the bathroom as we speak.” He started the shower and said, “See, you can even hear the water running. Now, I have to pee. Would you like to listen to that too?”
“No thanks. Just watch your aim.”
Molly’s smart ass comeback made him chuckle. “All right, D. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“I love you…”
“Uh-huh, love me, my ass. If you loved me, you’d let me sleep another hour.” Eli grinned, his voice carrying the teasing over the line. “But yeah, whatever… I love you too. Bye…brat.” He quickly ended the call before she could get off her retort and placed the phone on the black granite countertop.
Pushing his boxers to the floor, Eli climbed in and stood under the rainfall showerhead. He rolled his neck and adjusted the water to make it hotter, hoping the heat would do something to relax the muscles in his back. Turning side-to-side gingerly, he took a sharp breath in with the pain.
“Oh, hell. It’s going to be a long damn day,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
On the last word, he slowly forced the air back out as he braced himself against the stone tiles.
The weather was finally warming up after the long winter. Passing by his SUV in the garage, he climbed in the Razor parked beside it. The off-road vehicle allowed him the freedom of cruising through the fields as the crow flies, so he took off via the shortcut he’d already worn down in the fresh spring grass. It was the same path he’d taken a thousand-plus times over the years, one he could do blindfolded.
The riding academy offices were connected to the large outbuilding that housed the shop and gym, and all faced the professional track they trained on. What started two decades ago as a small patch of track built behind the Noland’s family home for personal use, had been expanded multiple times, and was now one of the country’s top training facilities for amateur racers.
Normally he’d be able to fly across the property from his house to the school. Not today. Approaching the last and largest terrace, Eli slowed down to almost a crawl, rolling over the land instead of hitting it as a jump and flying through the crisp air. There was no way in hell he’d try and jump that one the way he was feeling this morning. Even the ibuprofen, coupled with the steaming hot shower, hadn’t taken the edge off.
He could hear the class Brody and Carter were teaching. He and Jess were taking the afternoon training session, and it was supposed to be his turn to sleep in. At least until his favorite girl called and informed him otherwise.
As he headed around the south side of the track, he edged toward the large shop and the school offices. It used to feel intimidating to pull up to the fifteen-bay metal building that housed their mechanics area, fitness gym, and the academy’s lunchroom. Now he was used to it. When James Noland was behind something, no expense was spared. Their facilities rivaled some factory locations. Noland demanded top of the line for everything, from the building to the tools inside it. The whole of it was so clean, a person could pick up food and eat it right off the floor.
One end of the building had been built out for the academy offices, and once inside, it was hard to remember it was a metal building on the outside. Not that the section of the shop where the bikes were worked on wasn’t outstanding in its own right, but with drywall, a faux-finished paint job, and custom lighting, the school offices were not only professional, but beautiful as well. Add to that the sleek office furniture and welcoming reception area, the place felt more like an upscale design studio with its gas fireplace, plants, and leather chairs.
Eli still felt a surge of pride every time he pulled up in front of the school. The Noland SFH Racing Academy. Joking about starting the school had turned into discussions, the discussions became plans, and with James’s help, the plans became a reality. It was something that Eli, Jesse and Carter had always thrown out as a way to retire and keep them close to the sport they loved dearly. It was a dream for the future that they used to talk idly about for hours while sitting around the pits, back in their younger days.
However, it was something they had always just considered a pipe dream until they were sitting at the table in James’s kitchen eating lunch one day, almost five years prior. One of the guys said something about starting a training program and sparked an interest immediately with both of the Noland men. Brody and James started asking more in-depth questions, both full of excitement and ideas. James was right, he had the perfect location, and between them, they had five professional riders. Then Jesse fell in love with and married Emery. Between her and Joey, the pair could build one hell of a race bike and fix anything and everything a kid could break. The equation was complete. The school launched and propelled so much further beyond any of Eli’s wildest hopes and dreams.
Over the years, they had been very fortunate never to have the struggles so many new businesses did. They had so much more to offer than any other training facility for amateurs in the country. The result—the academy had a waiting list before they even opened for the first session. Strategically planned classes meant the school was running at full capacity from the time the last snow fell in February or March, to the first snow the next winter. When they were really lucky, Mother Nature worked with them instead of against them, and allowed them to extend their training schedule.
Eli rolled up to the shop and cut the engine. Since it was a beautiful spring morning, all the doors to the shop and academy offices were open. Molly must have heard him pull up because he could feel her gaze on him. He twisted hesitantly and got out of the Razor. He tried to cover the pain, but walking hurt too much this morning, and he winced with the first couple of steps. Keeping his head lowered, Eli tried to avoid the narrowed blue eyes he knew were fixed on him.
Though she had an office with a closed door, Molly had a picture window and could see everything that went on. Out of the corner of his eye, Eli saw her lean back in her chair and cross her arms over her chest. He bought himself another few minutes by stopping at the coffee maker, taking his time to pick out the caramel flavor he preferred then setting the machine up to brew the single cup. He tapped his foot like he was in a hurry. In actuality, he was hoping someone would interrupt and call him aside, postponing the lecture that was waiting on him.
For over two years, Molly tried to get him to look into alternative therapies to manage the pain, but it was a wasted effort. There was nothing they could do. That night in Salt Lake City changed his life forever.
The season had been so close to being over, and he was battling with Jesse for first pla
ce. The two men were tighter than blood-related brothers, racing neck-and-neck, enjoying the challenge and the camaraderie. Three laps to go in the main event, and not even a bike’s length separated them. It had been one of the closest races of the season. Carter had retired by then, leaving the two to duke it out week after week, and the crowds loved it. It was one thing to watch two rivals go at it, but it was an entirely different experience watching two friends race. There was never anything dirty, and no one knew from week to week which man would come out on top. It had been a thrill for every lap of the entire season.
Then it was over.
A lapper in the way. A guy so far out of the race he was running eighteenth out of twenty, and Eli and Jesse both had two full laps on him, already. The guy hadn’t paid attention to the blue flags alerting him to move to the outside and get out of the leaders’ way. Pure arrogance and ass on his part.
Jesse rounded the tight corner with Eli’s front wheel even with his own back wheel, only to come up on the lapper with nowhere to go. Jesse barely hung onto his handlebars, and after hitting the deep ruts wrong, finally righted himself and kept going. Eli hadn’t been so lucky. His front tire hit the lapper’s back tire, and instantly both men were thrown from their bikes.
The lapper was able to shake it off, dazed but aware enough to make it to the side of the track on his own. Eli was run over twice before the flaggers diverted the traffic coming up behind him into the tight corner.
He woke up two days later in the ICU with a laundry list of medical problems, the broken back he suffered being the worst of them. His friends had surrounded him in a constant vigil until he woke. They were there when he learned he would never race again. They were there when he was told he might never walk again.