Copyright © 2020 Heather Guimond
All rights reserved. The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Illustrations copyright © 2020 KAM Design
This one is for all my Harlots, who patiently waited the entire year I disappeared to write this book. Gosh, I hope you like it.
I ripped the gloves from my hands and threw them to the ground as I stormed into our pit. Matt Michaels had just run me off the track again, and I was through fucking around. The guy had it out for me, always riding rough and not only trying to block me but take me out. Dirty tricks were a common practice in motocross—I was the last person to claim to be a stranger to them—but this time was too much. He’d kicked me in the hip as I rode past, causing me to crash on a turn. I went through the barrier set up on the track, hard, just because it was Michaels’ last chance to hit first place on the way to the finish line. Back on my feet in a flash, despite searing pain in my hip, I tried to get back in the race. I’d looked at my bent handlebars and sighed when I had to accept riding was out of the question. Channing, my mechanic, who ran out to the track and grabbed the bike, came wheeling it in right after me.
“I’m done with that guy,” I shouted once I got my helmet off, feeling the heat of my anger burning the tips of my ears as I recalled his stunt. “He’s always all over me. I can barely breathe with him around.”
“Did you hit your head and forget what racing is like?” my manager, Ralph, remarked as he stood just under the canopy that housed my bikes and gear while I was ‘on tour.’ He’d been my manager since my low-key return to the sport six years ago. My father was my original coach in my amateur years, but that was a past best left buried—he instilled me with a sense of flexible standards I’d worked hard to put behind me. I even moved cross country from New Jersey to Los Angeles, leaving the sport entirely for two years while I finished high school. I chose to ignore Ralph’s smartass remark.
“I’m on my way over there to give that asshole a piece of my mind,” I said as I stalked back in the direction I came. “That fucker just gave me my first DNF in my entire racing career. He’s going to answer for that.”
“Finn, it’s not going to do any good to let him see he got to you,” Ralph replied, moving toward me. “I know how it looks to get a ‘Did Not Finish,’ but just take your lumps and start really getting in the dirt with him next time. You just came in second at Nationals to Aaron Ogilvie. Supercross season starts next week. These practice races are just that—practice. Now that you know what to expect from him during the season, you need to beat him at his own game.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Yes, we all know you’re Captain America now,” he replied sarcastically.
I threw him a dirty look over my shoulder as I left the tent. He just flipped me the finger in return as I went looking for Matt’s entourage.
When I entered his pit, there was almost no one in sight, except a slight little guy working on Matt’s bike and a bald dude with a clipboard. The mechanic was dressed in coveralls with Matt’s colors, had light blond hair peeking out from his ball cap as he crouched down in front of one of the wheels. He looked inconsequential, so I swung to face the guy with the clipboard, thinking he was in charge.
“Where the hell is he?” I demanded harshly. The guy looked at me with a raised brow.
“Matt? He’s probably being interviewed by the local press after his win, but he could be done by now. You should ask this one,” he said, motioning to the kid working on the bike. “Kenni always knows where Matt is.”
Rudely turning my back on the man, I marched over, trying to get my temper under control. I needed to save my fire for Matt. These people hadn’t done anything but have bad taste in team selections.
“Hey, are you Kenny?” I asked as I came up next to the kid. When he turned his face up to mine, I was startled by the soft features, glowing eyes the color of caramel, and full pouty lips. This was no boy—it was a gorgeous woman with grease smeared on her hands and across her cheek. My mouth dropped open as my brain went to mush, not only at the surprise “Kenny” was a female but by her sheer beauty. My bluster for Matt vaporized like steam on a hot day in favor of rapidly growing curiosity. I could only see, hear, and smell the grease monkey goddess before me. All that was left was to taste her, and my thoughts were already racing in that direction. To anyone else, she probably looked a mess, but to me, she was flawless.
She stood, wiping her hands on a dirty rag as she looked me up and down. Though slender, she was taller than I originally thought, coming to stand just a few inches shorter than my six foot three. Her gaze traveled over every inch of my frame, making my leathers tighten uncomfortably. Fuck Matt Michaels. This woman became my sole focus. If I needed to be his best fucking friend to get near her, that’s what I’d do.
“I’m MacKenzie Michaels, Kenni, with an ‘i,’ for short. What can I do for you, Hawk?” she asked, using my own nickname, her voice full of suspicion.
“Call me Finn.” I didn’t want her calling me by the stupid moniker announcers had given me when I was just a kid. Though it made me sound like a total douchebag, my last name was Hawkins, so it was impossible to shake.
“Okay, Finn. What are you doing over here?”
“I came to have a little chat with Matt. I guess you’re related?” I hated the idea of stealing somebody else’s woman, but I realized there was still one way I was willing to play dirty, and it had everything to do with the pretty blonde in front of me. “Please don’t tell me you’re his wife.”
“His wife? Fuck, no.” Kenni snorted as she laughed. “I feel sorry for anyone who’d even think about marrying that asshole. He’s my twin brother. I work on his bikes after he trashes them.”
I surprised myself when I felt a thrill run through my chest. I’d never met a girl who made me feel like a teenager with a crush, not even when I was a teenager. Nevertheless, going after my rival’s sister was just within the remainder of my flexible values.
“You look barely sixteen. Where’d you get your wrenching skills?”
“For your information, I’m twenty-one, and I’ve been racing bikes since I was eleven and pushing a 65cc balls-out,” she said tartly, dropping the rag and crossing her arms over her chest before her lower lip pooched out and her brow furrowed. “Well, at least I used to.”
I gave her a second appraisal. Totally gorgeous, clearly smart, and another racer? I might have met my dream woman.
“Well, I hope he appreciates you. If not, I always have room on my team for another mechanic,” I said, mirroring her position, arms across chest, and widened my stance.
“From the looks of what happened at the end of the race, you need one right about now,” she replied knowingly. “I’m surprised you don’t need a doctor, too.”
I felt a pang of embarrassment, my bravado momentarily fleeing when, as I realized, she saw my wipeout at the hands—or in this case, foot—of her asshole brother. I wondered if she shared his hatred of me, then decided it didn’t matter. I was Finn Hawkins, and she was just another woman, even if she was the most stunning one I’d ever seen. She’d come around to my side before all was said and done.
&n
bsp; “Fortunately, just my handlebars were bent. My guy is working on them now.”
“You need to be more careful out there, sport. The big guys will run you right over if you don’t get out of the way.”
Her caustic tone told me everything I needed to know to believe she was just like her brother, but that just excited me more. God, if I didn’t love a challenge. Even if Kenni thought I deserved her brother’s moves, I pledged to convert her to a Finn Hawkins fan. Trying to capitalize on my legendary charm, I leaned against the heavy, rolling toolbox that stood next to me.
“Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself. I’ve raced against dirtier riders than your brother. Matt just took me by surprise today.”
“He’s not a dirty rider,” she said, her eyes narrowing and cutting into me. “Maybe you just don’t know how to really race.”
“Excuse me? Tell that to the boot I took to the side on that last turn,” I snarled, my ego making an untimely showing. I’d been on the circuit for years; everyone knew I was at the top of the sport. If anyone else said what Kenni had, I’d laugh, but her baiting had its intended effect. I wanted to hear she thought I was the best—preferably while screaming my name on and off the track.
“You heard me, Hawk,” she jeered, picking up her tools and shoving them roughly into the drawers of the box I was leaning against. “Matt’s coming up fast behind you. You’d better figure out a way to stay ahead.”
Without bothering to convince her she was wrong—hell, without even thinking—I reached out for her shoulder, turning her toward me. Though I’d intended to set her straight, the blood circulating in my veins raced through me as her amber eyes widened. I was beguiled, helpless to the power of my attraction to her. Surrendering to my impulse, I slammed my mouth to hers. As soon as our lips met, a frisson of electricity zipped through me, settling squarely in my crotch. My cock stiffened when she unconsciously leaned against me, her fingertips just barely touching my chest. She gasped softly, giving me the opportunity I needed. I slipped my tongue between her lips, caressing the inside of her mouth briefly before pulling back. I wasn’t surprised when her flattened palms against my chest shoved me back, but I also saw the clouds swirling in her eyes.
“I’ll worry about what’s behind me. You worry about what’s in front of you, Kenni,” I said huskily, a slow grin spreading across my face. I turned away, happy to leave her dazed with an unexpected fog of lust blanketing her and headed back the way I came. Matt appeared in the entrance just as I reached it.
“What the hell are you doing here, Hawkins?” he demanded as he blocked my path. Without a pause in my step, I inched past him, clapping him on the shoulder as I went by.
“Don’t worry, Michaels. I got more than I was looking for,” I replied with a grin and a brief look back at Kenni. “Way more.”
I strode back to our set-up in a far different mood than the one I’d left with. I may not have made any progress with Matt, as far as getting him to back off, but I’d figure out another way to come at him now I had my sights set on Kenni. It wouldn’t do to escalate whatever beef Michaels had with me if I was hoping to nail his sister. First, however, I needed to learn a little more about her.
“This is not how I expected you to return from your little visit,” Ralph said as I strolled back into the pit. “I thought you’d be more pissed off, possibly sporting a black eye. What did Michaels say?”
“Nothing. I hardly talked to him.”
“But you were gone for over half an hour…”
“Yup. I met his sister, who is a remarkably beautiful and intriguing woman,” I said, my head still filled with the image of her looking up at me the first moment I truly saw her.
“I didn’t even know he had a sister,” Channing chimed in.
“He sure does. A twin sister.”
“Is she ugly like he is?” Channing quipped, earning the finger from me.
“She’s a lean, lithe blonde. Beautiful, though not particularly warm and fuzzy. Kind of like a beautiful, sleek cat with a bad attitude.”
“Did you dazzle her with that Hawkins charm?” Ralph asked, tongue in cheek.
“Not so much,” I said with a laugh. “I did leave her with something to think about. She’s no motoho, impressed by my prowess on a bike, though, so I’m going to have to put some work in with her.”
“No women are impressed with your prowess of any kind,” Channing tossed in. I gave him the finger again.
“I don’t see women lining up at your door, Chan,” I offered back.
“I only need the one I have, Finn,” he replied as he cleaned one of his wrenches until it shined.
“So, no one knows a thing about Kenni Michaels? She’s Matt’s mechanic.”
“Kenni is a woman? I thought that was his brother,” Ralph said. “I never would have guessed with those baggy coveralls and that ball cap. I thought she was a teenage boy.”
“Me, too. If she’s at the bar tonight, I’ll talk shop with her and see what I can find out,” Channing offered.
“The hell you will,” I said, turning to head to the RV we brought to races. I desperately needed a shower and comfortable clothes. We weren’t at one of the big stadiums where the major races took place, complete with locker rooms and steam baths, so the RV was a godsend. “You stay far away from my girl, you hear me?”
“She ain’t your girl yet,” he replied as Ralph laughed.
“Yet is the operative word. If you value your job and your manhood, you’ll stay far away.”
“Fine, but if you strike out, give her my number.”
“Fuck you, Channing. Melanie would kill me dead if I even thought about it.”
“I know.” Chan clapped me on the shoulder, then slapped the back of my head as he walked out. I was going to have to learn about Kenni the old-fashioned way—seduce her.
When Finn walked into the pit, my heart started thumping and only eased when I watched him walk away. I’d known all too well who he was. I’d been following his racing career since Matt went pro. He could do some amazing things on two wheels, things my brother—and I—envied with a passion. While Matt was a great rider, when it came to Finn Hawkins, he’d do anything to beat him. I wasn’t as proud of my brother as he’d like me to be because of the shitty moves he pulled against Finn, but I might have been judging him harshly because I had stars in my eyes. One look at the sexy racer with thick, messy, chocolate brown hair, intense gray eyes, and mischievous attitude made my temperature rise at least twenty degrees… celsius.
“What did he want?” Matt demanded as he stalked up to me.
“Nothing special. He wanted to congratulate you on your win, I think. He didn’t say too much about it. We got to talking about bikes, then you came in,” I yammered, the lie falling easily from my lips as I shrugged. No need to get Matt riled up, even though we had a pact to always be honest with each other. This time, it just didn’t seem like a good idea. Besides, it wasn’t as if anything would happen between Finn and me. Sure, I had a massive crush, and he had just given me the kiss to top all kisses, but I’d learned the hard way to stay far from the handsome, cocky riders on the Supercross circuit. It was a lesson I didn’t want to repeat.
“I find that difficult to believe. I’m sure he has an agenda. Stay away from him, Kenni.”
“First, you’re not my boss, Matthew. Second, you don’t need to worry about me. I have no plans to get any closer to Finn Hawkins than I just did.”
“I’m serious, Kenni. He’s bad news.”
“What’s your problem with him, anyway? I didn’t think you even knew him.”
“Nothing you need to worry about. Just listen to me and keep away.”
“I don’t need to worry about it, but I need to keep away. Right.” I rolled my eyes and got back to work, trying to fix the forks on his bike. As usual, Matt had ridden hard and thrashed them almost to the point of uselessness. If he wasn’t careful, the motorcycle would be clapped out halfway through the Supercross season. Matt pulled hi
s jersey out of the waistband of his leathers, then whipped it over his head.
“I don’t know who you’re trying to impress, bro. It’s just me and Wally here, and neither one of us care about your abs.”
“I’m just getting out of that smelly jersey. Are there more team T-shirts in the truck?”
“Yeah, there should be a couple,” I replied as I straddled the front wheel and pushed down on the handlebars.
“You coming to the afterparty? Everyone’s going over to Fifty/Fifty for beers.”
“You don’t want to get on the road and head back to Phoenix before sunrise?”
“There’s no hurry. Let’s go have some fun for a change.”
“Oh, no,” I said, standing back and vehemently shaking my head. “The last thing I want to do is spend my time with a bunch of asshole racers. I’ll go back to the room and read.”
“Kenni, you can’t always hide. Dalton Simmons doesn’t even race with these guys. They barely know who he is. That’s the whole reason I stopped doing local races, and we started traveling to California for the off-season.”
“If any of them are Supercross, they know who I am. Don’t think the rumors didn’t follow us on the circuit.”
“Relax. No one has ever said boo to me about it. I’ll be right beside you the whole time. No one will get out of line, or they’ll deal with me and the rest of our team. Most of these guys are amateurs. You’ll see.”
I crossed my arms and stared at my brother. Ever since I confided in him about what happened with Dalt, he was all in favor of me hiding out and keeping my distance, my self-appointed protector. Why would he suddenly want me out celebrating with him? A lightbulb went off over my head.
“You want me to talk to some girl for you, don’t you?”
“What? No!”
“That’s it. There’s some motoho who’s not giving you the time of day, isn’t there?” I needled mercilessly now that I knew just where to prod.
“She’s not a motoho,” he said grumpily.
Ride: A Driven World Novel Page 1