Dirty Looks (Dirt Track Dogs: The Second Lap Book 1)

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Dirty Looks (Dirt Track Dogs: The Second Lap Book 1) Page 4

by Jameson, P.


  Sister? He must be referring to Annie.

  Lexington glanced at the woman and then back to him. Yes, they had the same blue eyes. Her face was rounder where his was all harsh edges. And his hair wasn’t long enough to tell if it hid curls or not, but it was nearly the same shade.

  “We’re just making friends is all,” Barb groused. “Why are you so barky?”

  “Everything’s fine,” Annie said. “They’re here to see DTD. I was just pointing them in Drake’s direction.”

  Drake. The wolf pack’s alpha. Except Annie hadn’t exactly told them how to find Drake yet. Short of rolling up on the property unannounced, they had no way of contacting him. And Lexington knew how dangerous it could be to land in territory that didn’t belong to you.

  Aaron stared back at her, clearly not satisfied with the answer. “What do you want with DTD?”

  “Come on Aaron,” Annie grinned, reaching across the counter to shove him playfully on the shoulder. “They’re here for the race Saturday. They just need some place to park their cars.”

  “Bikes,” Aaron rumbled, not taking his eyes off Lexington.

  Annie frowned. “Huh?”

  “They do dirt bikes, not cars. Rider told me.”

  “Rider?” Sally piped up. “Who’s Rider?”

  “Rider Daley. His uncle owns the track.” Annie said, pouring her a new drink.

  “Wait, is that his real name? Rider Daley?” Sally slammed back the last of her whiskey and reached for the fresh one.

  “Mm hm,” Annie answered.

  “Rider Daley. Ride her daily?” Seraphina whispered, and Barb laughed so hard she snorted unapologetically.

  “Tell me that was on purpose,” Sally smirked. “Tell me his parents knew what they were doing when they named him that. Seriously. I need to know.”

  “He doesn’t have any parents,” Aaron gritted. “Just Waldo.”

  The girls sobered. They knew what it was like to have no family. They’d left everything behind when they ran from their people all those years ago. When Ragan was fresh from delivering Kit and they were determined not to end up like her, beaten and broken by a male that didn’t care about her.

  “They didn’t mean any harm,” Lexington said carefully, resisting the urge to rest her hand on Aaron’s forearm where it was tensed against the bar, ending in a clenched fist. He was strung so tight, she wondered what a male like him was even doing in a place like this. Red Cap seemed to be the let-loose of the town. The casual epicenter of tiny little Cedar Valley. But how was anyone supposed to have fun with him acting like the lit fuse of a round of dynamite?

  “Well, somebody named him,” Sally muttered, her mouth low to her glass.

  Lexington glanced at Annie. She had her lips pressed together in a thin line, but her eyes were a tad apologetic. The way a person looks when they’re watching someone crash and burn socially. A shade away from pity.

  The vixens weren’t making a good impression.

  Lexington sighed. “Look, if you’ll just point us in the right direction, we’ll be on our way.”

  There’d be time to win over the locals later. On the track. Right now, she needed to announce herself to the alpha and hope like hell he didn’t run them out of town.

  Annie opened her mouth to speak, but Aaron beat her to it.

  “I’ll take you.”

  Lexington swung her head around, surprised at his words. She could feel her eyes growing wide, and his mirroring hers. It took her a full second or two to realize what he meant, and it wasn’t just because her fox had a dirty mind. I’ll take you. It had sounded like… like… a claim. But of course that was crazy. The man was simply offering to show her the way to the Dirt Track Dogs’ clubhouse.

  Barb’s voice cut through the pounding of her heartbeat in her eardrums. “But I’m not ready to leave yet.”

  “Ditto on that,” Sally added.

  “Good,” Aaron said. “Because there’s only room in my truck for one.”

  “One?” Ragan spoke up, taking a step closer to Lexington. “You’re not going by yourself, Lex.”

  “She won’t be by herself,” he sneered, and Ragan shot him a glare so feral, Lexington was sure he saw her animal’s eyes.

  Lexington whispered, “Stand down,” and Ragan looked at her suspiciously. “Stand. Down.”

  She rose from her stool and faced Aaron, straightening her shoulders. “I’ll take you up on that offer, cowboy.”

  “Wait, Aaron,” Annie said, her eyes going shifty. “Do you… do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, they won’t be expecting… you.”

  “It’s fine.” His jaw flicked again, and Lexington felt even more uneasy about meeting the alpha.

  “But…” Annie was practically wringing her hands. “Are you sure. Why don’t you just let me call Blister or one of the boys down here?”

  Aaron’s mouth quirked upward ever so slightly, and his eyes softened as he glanced at his sister. For the first time, Lexington could see past his hard façade. Whatever made the blond giant so angry, she didn’t know. But for his sake, she hoped he found a way to let it go. Otherwise he was probably going to need surgery to help unwad his panties. It could get ugly.

  “Annie, I said it’s fine. Drake gave me an open invitation. I’m welcome at DTD whenever I want.” His fist tapped the counter, but not angrily. “Tell the guys where I went, okay?”

  Then he brushed past Lexington and headed for the door.

  “Be good, girls,” she murmured.

  Sally smirked, swirling her glass and kicking back another swallow. “Always, peach. Always.”

  Lexington nodded at Ragan. She’d watch over them until Lexington was finished securing their spot with the pack.

  And then she followed Angry Aaron out of Red Cap.

  Chapter Five

  Aaron’s truck was a horror story, and not only because it looked like it was haunted by a thirty-something year old ghost who liked Twinkies and Corn-nuts and… Lexington toed at the collection of plastic bottles occupying his floorboard. Pepsi? He was a Pepsi man. So, okay. They had that in common.

  The old Ford was probably the same one he had learned to drive in. The bench seat was torn in the middle and he’d jammed a Pepsi can in the hole, using it as a makeshift cup holder.

  Resourceful. Another thing they had in common.

  Lexington knew she was grasping, but it was a habit she’d learned from childhood. Find the good in people even if you have to dig through piles and piles of shit and use a magnifying glass. Hell, a microscope. Whatever. But find one good thing. And here, she’d found two.

  Aaron guided the truck down main street, and she tried to relax among the empty snack wrappers and the wayward springs digging into her back.

  “I’m not a cowboy.”

  “Huh?” Lexington turned to watch his profile.

  “You called me a cowboy back at the bar. I’m not a cowboy. Never even rode a horse.” He gripped the steering wheel hard, and his bicep flexed, bulging around the sleeve of his t-shirt.

  “Yeah?” Lexington mused. Another commonality. “Me neither. Can’t.” She slammed her mouth shut and stared out the window at the dim street lamps that lined the sidewalk in front of the shops.

  “Can’t, huh? That because of the animal inside you?”

  Lexington stiffened. It was common sense that shifters had to stay under the radar. As a general rule, they didn’t just flaunt their differences like a ho flaunting her back tat.

  Maybe that wasn’t a good comparison. Sally had a back tat. But Sally was a ho. Okay, yep. So that was a valid likeness. Speaking of back tats, Lexington wanted one. Ho or not, those were badass. It wasn’t like she had to get an arrow pointing down, with the caption Want Some? Maybe she’d get a bushy red fox tail or something to honor her animal. Yeah, that would be fun.

  Aaron whistled to get her attention. “Hello? Where’d you go? Or are you just ignoring me?”

  “Not ignoring you,” she said honestly. “Just ponderin
g what to get tattooed on my back.”

  He frowned, glancing over at her. “I ask you about your animal and you’re thinking about a tattoo?”

  Lexington nodded. “I could take you through the chain of thinking that brought me from your question to the tat, but I’m pretty sure you’re not interested.”

  His eyes returned to the road. “How would you know what I’m interested in?” he muttered.

  Lexington shrugged and went back to staring out the window as the lights grew sparser and the homes and businesses fewer.

  “Where at on your back?” he asked.

  “Hm? Oh. Low, about hip level.”

  Aaron said nothing, but the air in the cab grew lightning tense instantly, bringing Lexington’s gaze around to him once again. What was this? He was rigid on his side of the bench, his jaw lax instead of clenched. His chest moved just enough for his panting breath to escape and find new oxygen.

  “What could possibly belong there?” he said finally, his voice like crumbling asphalt.

  “Well, I don’t know. Whatever I want, I guess. A flower, something scroll-y. A name. Sky’s the limit.”

  Again, the small cab practically rattled with the vibes coming off him. Lexington considered herself good at reading other people. Part of it was her fox instincts. But this time, she couldn’t understand Aaron’s hot and cold behavior. Maybe he was just unstable. There were people like that. She’d known a few in her time. Ragan’s mate for one.

  “Whose name?” It left his throat practically a growl, and had her fox spinning in surprise.

  Cower or buck up? Threat or ally? Foe or friend?

  Her animal had never felt the urge to be submissive like this. She’d never questioned her authority. Never wondered how to behave. But whatever was happening now, was sending all kinds of confusing signals.

  Lexington cleared her throat. “Don’t know. Haven’t decided yet.”

  “A name is never a good idea.”

  “That right?”

  Aaron shrugged, trying to pull off casual, but Lexington wasn’t buying it.

  “What happens if the name you ink in your skin turns out to be a shitty person. What if they become your mortal enemy? What if it’s the one who does you wrong. Can’t take that shit back. Can’t un-ink it. Might as well write regret on your back.”

  “If I’m putting them in my skin, you can bet your ass it won’t be a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants decision I made over a few rounds of tequila.” She added the last part quietly. “It’ll be someone special.”

  They turned out of town and onto the highway. She knew this was the right direction to DTD’s property because she’d done her research. They were located just far enough out of the town limits to avoid noise complaints

  “But no worries,” she continued, picking at a loose thread of the worn seat upholstery. “I’m leaning more toward a sexy little fox tail to represent my animal. This way the tribute can’t betray me like you’re suggesting. And by the way, suspicious much?”

  A man that wary had been done wrong in the past. She wondered what his story was.

  They rounded a curve in the road and she cut another secret glance his way. What made Angry Aaron so hard? And how could she soften him up?

  “That…” Aaron readjusted his grip on the wheel and cleared his throat hard. “You… you’re a fox shifter?” The way his voice went velvety at the word fox, it gave her a sexy shiver.

  “I am,” she admitted.

  His heavy swallow was audible. “A tail would be… pretty damn perfect in my opinion.”

  Lexington grinned, unable to help herself. “I thought so too. It’s different, but I’m not afraid of different. Are you?”

  He glanced away from the road and caught her smiling, but instead of scowling like she expected him to, his eyes softened the way they did when he’d said goodbye to Annie at the bar. It was his best look, Lexington decided. His soft look, when all his movie-star features relaxed and the tiniest hint of emotion peeked through. She wanted to see him like that again. Maybe even see him like that always.

  Wow. Where did that thought come from?

  Mine, her fox declared, and Lexington squinted at him in a new light. Angry Aaron’s softer side appealed to her animal, but it couldn’t mean what she thought it meant.

  Could it?

  Mine.

  He looked away. “Nah. I’m not afraid of different. Prefer it even.” He opened his mouth to add something else, but then ended with, “We’re almost there.”

  Lexington tried to focus on what was coming. Tried to mentally prepare, but she was more or less going in blind.

  “You got any advice?” She cleared her throat hoping it would erase the nervousness in her voice. “Any words of wisdom?”

  Aaron’s eyebrow arched. “You nervous about meeting Drake?” He smirked. “You were all balls back there at Red Cap. Lemme guess. You’re all bark and no bite. Do foxes bark, or is it something else?”

  Lexington rolled her eyes. “If you’re about to drop a ‘what does the fox say’ joke, let me just warn you, you aren’t the first.”

  “Probably not the last either, yeah?”

  “I can guarantee it. And also,” she added, making sure he was looking at her, “I bite.”

  The sarcasm left his face and that tension between them returned, making her squirm in the best way. Happy jitters. How it is when your body registers the excitement your mind can’t yet understand. She hadn’t felt like this in…

  Well, in ever.

  “You don’t need to worry about Drake,” he said, taking a left down a small dirt road. “He’s a lot like you. All bark and no bite.” He shot her a wry look. “What I’m saying is, he’s good people. They all are.”

  They.

  And just like that her defenses went up again.

  The way he said it felt all wrong. Like he considered DTD other. Like they were so different from him they deserved another distinction. But wasn’t he friends with the pack? He’d said Drake gave him an open invitation, and his very own sister was mated to one of them.

  Lexington glanced over her shoulder into the bed of the truck. A big canvas duffle bag bounced along in the back. And yeah, his truck looked lived in. So maybe… maybe Aaron wasn’t from around here either.

  He pulled the truck to a stop in front of a large metal sided shop building. There were two drive-in bays and a stack of discarded tires nearby. Above the front door was a sign that read Dirt Track Dogs Racing Club, and a smaller sign on the door said, Auto Body Repair And Specialty Work.

  Aaron cut the ignition and flung his door open without pretense, so Lexington followed him. The time it took to cross the graveled parking lot was the only chance she had to prepare herself to meet the pack.

  This was it. Make or break time.

  Aaron yanked on the front door of the shop and held it open for her to walk through. Bright fluorescent lights and several stacks of car parts were the first thing she saw, and the bell on the door jingled as he followed her in and shut it behind him.

  “We’re closed!” a deep male voice called from behind the service counter somewhere, but she didn’t see anyone.

  A volley of youthful giggles erupted and two small young burst through a swinging door that must’ve led to the garage.

  “I hear-ed him,” a tiny boy with chubby, rose colored cheeks whispered. His sweet little sausage hands were braced on his knees as he bent down to look under a shelf. “Where you at daddy?”

  His partner was a girl, about five. Her auburn ringlets were snarled and her pink cotton shorts and matching shirt were streaked with dirt. She was a cute little ragamuffin, and Lexington guessed she was dirty from hours upon hours of playing around the shop and the track outside.

  Just the thought warmed her heart. The pack was family friendly. That meant Kit would have a place to run, other kids to play with. It meant Kit could actually be a kid, like he deserved.

  “I don’t see ‘im, Gracie,” the boy said with a pout.
<
br />   She bent to search the same crevice he’d already searched, and murmured, “Hmmm. I tell ya, Artie, your Daddy’s pretty good at this game.” She righted herself, little hands going to her hips as her gaze combed the area. “I think we’re gonna hafta trick him. It’s the only way.”

  Artie’s eyes grew wide with excitement. “How?”

  Just then, Gracie caught on to the strangers standing at the door. Her face grew from curious to shocked to exuberant in the span of two seconds.

  “Uncle Scrooge!” she squealed, and without warning, launched herself forward, running full speed toward them.

  She was like a fluffy pink blur, arms pumping and legs eating up the shop floor while Artie’s eyes managed to get even bigger.

  “The hell?” came a muttered curse, muffled beneath a pile of moving canvas tarps stacked over by the counter.

  Like a warm front meeting a cold one, Gracie slammed into Aaron with a tiny ooof, and his arms went around her to keep her steady, even if his face looked utterly baffled.

  “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” she half screamed. It was like she’d just opened her favorite birthday gift. “I knew you’d be back!”

  The tarps rustled some more, accompanied by more cursing, and then a brawny specimen with thick arms and long legs rolled out from under them, his dark jeans and gray t-shirt stained with black streaks of grime. Lexington couldn’t see his face, but he had a head full of dark blond dreadlocks that would hang well past his shoulders. Big hands raked his hair aside to reveal a curious frown that quickly transformed into something fiercer when his eyes danced back and forth between Lexington and Aaron.

  “Human,” the man said, still tangled in the tarps. “Wasn’t expecting to see you around anytime soon.” His gaze traveled back to Lexington and narrowed. “And I see you’ve made friends with the enemy.”

  Enemy? No, she wasn’t an enemy of DTD. She wanted to be one of them, so she couldn’t be an enemy.

  Her heart sank at his words, but then she realized he simply had her mistaken.

  She gave him her best smile. The most open and friendly one she could muster, because she really wanted to be his friend. “Oh, no.” She laughed. “I’m not your enemy at all. In fact, I was just looking for a word with your alpha is all.” Somehow, she knew this man wasn’t Drake. He was dominant, yes, but not an alpha.

 

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