by Shannyn Leah
Stone couldn’t peel his father from the fence line. Even when their ordered lunch arrived, Slate ate it at as close to the track as he could get. Because Duke was acting as security for both of the siblings, whenever Bowie wandered away from her brother, who stayed under the overhang, Stone took on the responsibility of protecting her. As it turned out, he never stopped. Whether she stood with him and his dad or with Reed and Duke, Stone found himself alert of her environment, reading the body language of those around her. It was instinct without the feeling of hassle and exactly what he wanted to be doing for the rest of his life.
When the race ended and the crowd headed to the far side of the property where trailers and tents were set up in the camping area, Stone had a quick word with Jesse by the fence. After confirming prior plans, he returned to his group to help Duke by grabbing Reed’s free arm and hauling him up and to the golf cart waiting for them.
He tapped the back of the golf cart and nodded at Bowie. “Hop on.”
“What?”
“Hike your cute ass on the back of this.”
“Gross,” Reed muttered. “Keep those thoughts about my sister to yourself.”
Stone held Bowie’s hands and helped hike her up onto the back of the golf cart. “Or what?” He moved to the side of the golf cart to look at the miserable ass. “You gonna make me?”
Reed glared at him. “I’m not going to be in this chair forever and yes, maybe when I’m up and walking, we can have a match. Lord knows you deserve it for being an arrogant prick today.”
Stone chuckled. “Thata boy. I look forward to this match.” He sat beside Bowie and kissed her cheek. “Relax. I won’t fight your brother, but did you see that boost of confidence in him?”
She smiled. “I guess if that’s what you call it.”
Stone twisted to the front and yelled, “You know where to go Duke.”
The golf cart rumbled to life and they jerked as he took off. They made their way to the gated driver’s entrance. A worker waited and let them inside.
“Where to?” Duke hollered back to him.
Stone grabbed the frame of the golf cart and twisted. “Over there! Where the cars are lining up.”
Jesse waited for them beside three cars that Stone had worked on over the years. He’d worked on plenty and sometimes, rather than paying him, Jesse traded for space or use of the track. Today was one of those times.
Stone helped Bowie off the back and met Jesse with another handshake. “Jesse, you know my dad, Slate.”
“Nice to see you, sir.”
His father grunted. “Enough with the sir nonsense. Slate is good.” Stone wrapped an arm around his dad’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. Today had been great with him, and he looked forward to making this a weekly event.
“And this is Bowie and Reed J and their bodyguard Duke. Everyone, this is a friend of mine, Jesse Tank.”
Reed cursed and muttered. “Now all of Hicksville will know we’re here.”
Jesse zipped his lip. “You have my word.” He held his hand out and Bowie shook it. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“I’m not a fan, but if you plan on hanging around long enough maybe my sister can get an autograph.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
He shook Duke and Reed’s hands. “Take your time. It’s yours for the night.” He waved goodbye and headed to the men standing by the stock cars they’d be driving.
Stone clapped his hands. “Are you all ready to burn some serious rubber? You can drive solo or sit shotgun. I’ve arranged professional drivers to take you for a spin on the track. Dad, Duke, Reed, take your pick. If you choose to drive, there’s a brief instructional class you’ll breeze through.”
Duke stepped back, arms straight and hands folded in front of him. His eyes did a perimeter check confirming their surroundings remained safe and private. “I’m going to sit this one out.”
“I’ll take you for a spin Reed,” Slate said.
“No. You’ve been drinking all afternoon, you’re old, and I don’t like you. I’ll take a professional.”
Slate laughed. “Your loss, son.”
“I doubt it,” Reed muttered.
Stone looked at Bowie. “Woman, you’re with me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Doll, you’re with me.” She walked past him, and slid, surprisingly easily into the window of the closest stock car and gripped the steering wheel.
“Alright.” Stone slapped his father’s shoulder. “See guys on the track. Oh, and dad, you have been drinking so take a professional.”
“I got it, son.”
Stone walked to the passenger’s window of the stock car and bent down. He grinned at Bowie. A day outside had erased most of the makeup she’d applied this morning and he liked her natural side. He liked all her sides, mostly he liked her on top of him, but that was for another day.
“What are you thinking?”
“Race car driver looks sexy on you.”
Bowie laughed. “Alright. Never mind. Teach me to drive this thing, hot shot.” She flexed her fingers on the wheel.
Stone chuckled. “Alright speed demon, let’s start easy. You need to suit up.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Suit up?”
“Doll, this isn’t about looking pretty.” He patted the roof of the car, straightening. “Get out.”
Stone turned to the man waiting to suit them up and shook his hand. “Stone Patino.”
“I’ve seen you around and heard of your work. Clayton Fisher.”
“Nice to meet you.”
A smirking Bowie joined them, wringing her hands together. She stopped beside Stone and quietly said, “I was a little eager there.”
“I caught that.”
“You each get a suit and helmet.” Clayton held an oversized fire proof suit out to each of them.
Bowie reluctantly took hers. “Is this necessary? How fast are we going?”
Stone smirked at her. “It depends who’s driving. Suit up, doll.”
She frowned, but in ten minutes they were both in the car, her in the driver’s seat and Stone helping her strap on the seatbelt.
“Shouldn’t I be having the instructional class you were talking about?”
“I’m going to give it to you.”
“You are?”
He nodded.
“What do you know about racing a car?”
“Doll, once these tires hit the track and your heart is pounding with excitement and we are rocketing around the track, you’ll understand how I used to feel in a ring.”
Bowie frowned. “Used to?”
He finished the buckle and touched her chin. “Yes, used to.” His thumb trailed over her lips and he heard her light gasp. “God, I love your lips. I’ve dreamt of these lips, touching them, grazing them, devouring them.”
Her hand touched his and for a split second he thought she might push his hand away, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned forward and grazed his lips, tentative and soft. She smiled against him. “A girl could get used to this.” She pulled away and forced a smile. “Teach me to drive this thing before I chicken out.”
He sat back in his seat. “You? Chicken out? I do believe that would be a first for Bowie Blake.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
THE WEEK HAD gone by way too quickly. Stone had driven her and Reed to a private hospital earlier in the week and she’d left feeling good about her brother’s direction. She’d stopped by her house for another bag of clothes—her choices—and updated Susan and Emerie on the week’s events and letting them know their presence wouldn’t be required at the fight on Saturday.
Friday evening had eventually rolled around, even with Bowie trying to prolong the days and nights as long as she could. She spent the majority of Friday worrying about Stone’s fight with Walker the following evening. Her fears had been heightened when she’d heard that the fight had been moved to Walker’s business—a strip joint in the bad end of town. The whole thin
g seemed sketchy.
“You’re nervous.” Stone’s husky whisper didn’t lessen what she’d once again label anxiety, only it wasn’t over today’s simple dinner with his friends.
“I’m not nervous.”
He chuckled and lifted their hands. “You’re cutting off my blood circulation. Relax. These are nice people.”
Stone guided her up the stairs. After one knock, he pushed the door open and walked inside. Didn’t people lock their doors in small towns?
“Hello?”
“Uncle Stone!” A curly brown-haired girl ran down the staircase and halted in front of them.
“Hey, Olivia.”
The girl planted her hands on the hips of denim shorts and a pink T-shirt. “Dad said you took Charlie for a ride.” She gave him an accusing look.
“She drove like a dream.”
“Did you stay off gravel roads?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t rev her the way Dad does, right?”
Stone shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
The girl smiled showing a missing front tooth and looking relieved with his answers.
“Olivia, this is my friend Bowie. Bowie, this is Dax and Ava’s daughter Olivia.”
“Hi, Olivia.” Bowie gave the little girl a small wave.
“Are you staying for the campfire?”
Bowie looked at Stone for confirmation and after his nod she said, “Yes, we are.”
“Me and my brother are having a sleepover with Wanda, so we won’t be at the campfire.”
Stone ruffled her hair. “Next week, doll.”
Olivia beamed a smile, and then grabbed Stone’s hand and dragged them through the house and into the backyard. On one side of the porch, Bowie recognized Dax standing beside Hawk by the barbeque. Hawk glanced at them and rose his beer in a salute with a nod before jogging over and offering both of them a beer.
“Haven’t seen much of you two this week.”
“Those are the better days.” Stone raised his beer in a salute before swallowing a mouthful. He gave Bowie’s side a squeeze and she could hear the underlying tease in his voice. The tension these men had arrived at her house with was slowly decreasing. She’d go as far to say they even liked each other.
Hawk walked to Bowie’s side and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, wedging her away from Stone and against him. She’d go as far to say Hawk had grown on her and vice-a-versa.
“See that white haired beauty over there.” He nodded to the women gathered on lawn chairs under a tree and cooing over a newborn. She recognized the woman holding the baby from the auction and believed it was Dax’s wife Ava. An older lady with grey curls spiraling from under a weaved straw hat played peek-a-boo with the baby bringing rounds of laughter from all of them, including the beauty Hawk spoke of. She had a mass of fabulous grey-dyed hair she’d streaked all kinds of colors through, in a way that weaved with the pin-up fifties woman look she had going on. Curled thick bangs were flawlessly positioned around a red bandana with thick curls rolled down one side of her shoulder onto the red and white polka-dot, halter top dress she wore.
She glanced up and the “piss off” look she sent Hawk made Bowie smile.
“Fire, she is.” He made an appreciative sound that rumbled through him and against her. “That woman is going to be under me by the end of the night.”
She rolled her eyes. How this man had grown on her she’d never know. She picked his hand off her shoulder and stepped away. “Some things are better left lingering in that dense head of yours.”
He chuckled, then stuck one hand in his pocket and rocked back on his feet as he sipped his beer. His stare never leaving his conquest.
Stone slipped his hand into Bowie’s. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the group.”
“Yes, please.”
“Put in a good word for me,” Hawk called after them.
“No,” Stone said.
“You owe me, Patino.”
She threw a “behave” look at Hawk as Stone led her to the women.
“Good afternoon, ladies.”
The older woman shot to her feet and touched, the now, yellowed bruising on Stone’s face. “I’m not going to ask, but I hope you’re finished whatever it is you’ve been doing.”
Guilt poured through Bowie knowing his big fight was tomorrow.
Stone leaned in and kissed the older woman’s cheek. “Soon, I promise. Wanda, I would like you to meet Bowie Blake.”
When Wanda leaned back, Bowie’s heart broke at the fear she saw in the older woman’s eyes, which she quickly wiped away as she faced Bowie.
Bowie held her hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Handshakes are for strangers.” The woman held her arms open. “A friend of Stone’s is a friend of mine.”
Bowie hugged the older woman and the smell of incense filled her nostrils.
“Bowie, this is Ava, Dax’s wife and their baby.”
“Olivia is a sweetheart,” Bowie said.
Ava smiled. “Don’t tell her that. She thinks she’s one of the boys.”
Bowie laughed.
“And this is Marnie. She also works at the shop.”
Hawk’s obsession stood and shook Bowie’s hand with a firm grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You as well. Loving the hair.”
“Thanks. It’s generally covered in grease.”
“Marnie uses all her free time to work on her forty-six Jeep Willy in the shop,” Stone said.
“I know.” Bowie couldn’t help but test these waters. “Hawk’s told me all about it.”
Marnie rolled her eyes as she sat back down. “I bet he has. All that man thinks about his what’s in his pants.” She glanced at Wanda. “Sorry to be blunt.”
“Oh sweetheart, you aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know.”
Everyone laughed and Bowie could see herself getting along just fine with these ladies. The man still glaring at her from the barbeque would be a different story. She wasn’t sure Dax Colyn would ever like her.
HOURS LATER, WANDA had taken the kids for a sleepover, leaving the adults in a quiet, peaceful zone around the crackling fire pit.
Besides Dax’s sour mood, a reminder of why he disliked Bowie, the night’s events had taken Stone’s mind off his fight the next evening. He welcomed to distraction after spending a week catching the worry in Bowie’s eyes whenever she didn’t think he was looking. He couldn’t miss it. Even now, during the casual conversation, she’d get lost in her own thoughts and stare into the flickering orange flames.
“Let’s play a round of truth or dare with some courage right here to make it fun.” Hawk carried a bottle of whiskey in one hand and held five shot glasses with his fingers, distributing them before he sat down.
“Are we in high school?” Dax muttered, passing on a shot glass.
“I’m in.” Ava eagerly took a shot glass surprising Stone. She generally held a reserved teacher-like manner. “I love our little guy, but I’m in need of some adult fun.”
“Adult fun?” Dax grunted, staring into the fire. “This is just a means for Hawk to get unsolicited information from Marnie.”
“Good luck.” Marnie rose her glass to Hawk before drinking the remaining contents and tossing it aside.
Ava hit Dax’s shoulder. “Stop being a Downer Dax and be a Daring Dax.”
“I dare you to hit me again.”
“Dax is starting.” Ava hauled off and hit him again. He barely moved at the contact. “I win,” she gloated, kissing his cheek.
“How about a truth?” Dax said. “Who has put out a restraining order on an ex?”
Stone’s smile dropped, identifying where this game was headed. “You already had a turn,” he grunted at Dax.
Bowie covered his hand. “Stone, it’s fine,” she whispered. His hand fisted under her touch.
“I have.” Bowie raised her shot glass at the same time Ava said, “I have.”
Dax lowered
the arm Ava held the shot glass out with. “You don’t count. Your ex was trying to kill you.” Dax’s eyes landed back on Bowie.
“It counts.” Ava was stern as she held her shot glass out again.
Hawk sat between the women and filled both glasses.
“How about a new game,” Stone suggested.
Marnie shook her head. “No, my turn.” She looked across the campfire directly at Hawk. “Who got a piece of ass in Oakston?”
Hawk chuckled, sitting back in the chair. “Let me see.” He rubbed his chin, and Stone couldn’t decide which was worse, Dax belittling his girl or the mixed up flirting between Hawk and Marnie.
“I’m trying to decide if you’re asking because you want confirmation I am who you think I am—”
Marnie laughed. “I don’t think any of us need confirmation.”
“Or if you’re jealous.”
“You debate that.” Marnie pointed the neck of her beer bottle in Hawk’s direction. “In the meantime, answer the question.”
“Zero.”
Marnie pressed her lips against the rim of the bottle. “Hmmm...”
“Hmmm what?”
“Apparently those Oakston women know how to spot an egotistical poser.”
“Really?” he questioned.
“Really,” she answered.
Dax groaned, abnormally grouchy this evening. “I hear enough of this bickering crap at the shop and now you bring it into my backyard.”
“Stone? Bowie?” Hawk said.
“Yeah?” He hadn’t been paying attention.
“You two both got a piece of each other’s asses. Show of shot glasses.” He waved the bottle in their direction and Stone held his with Bowie’s. They’d be calling a taxi ride home.
He shot back the burning liquid and sucked a breath between his teeth. Dax needed a couple shots to chill the hell down. He slapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Alright, my go. It’s a dare. I dare one—or all—to jump the fence and get us some corn from Mr. Barkley’s garden.”
Sounds of objections and encouragement broke out around the fire. Mr. Barkley was one of Dax’s cranky old neighbors who watched his garden like Mr. McGregor from the Peter Rabbit story books.