Ride: A Driven World Novel

by Heather Guimond

  “That’s made winning a little easier, but not life.”

  “Oh... I see what’s up now,” Colton said, pausing the impromptu kitchen flash mob, leaning back against one of the counters, and tilting his head. “Who is she?”

  “Jeez, bro, when did you start reading minds?” I asked, flabbergasted Colton had seen the invisible mark Kenni had left on me before Rylee even noticed. She was normally so intuitive.

  “I was just fucking with you, Finn. It was a guess,” he said, chuckling as he straightened, heading to the refrigerator. Pulling out two beers, he tossed one to me. “I figured if you weren’t yammering on about Supercross, there must be a good reason. No better reason than some hottie who...”

  Rylee gave Colton the side-eye, shutting him up before looking at me with amusement and mischief twinkling in her eyes. She surprisingly said nothing as she helped Ace pick up a box of crayons lying haphazardly on the breakfast table. Colton poured spaghetti noodles into a colander over the sink while I stood there like a tool, with no option but to take their teasing. Rylee had been my age when we met, but she’d always had a feisty personality. I knew she had plenty to say but was simply biding her time. I finally convinced them to let me set the table just so I could get out from under the suspicious glare she kept leveling at me.

  Despite any nefarious plans brewing in Rylee Donavan’s head, we sat down to the cozy meal Colton made. It was surprisingly good, at least better than I’d expect from another guy who raced machines for a living. Our conversation took the normal twists and turns until we were pleasantly stuffed with enough carbohydrates to open a bakery. Rylee cajoled Ace into going to take a bath, raising an eyebrow at Colton and motioning for him to follow Ace as she started to clear the table.

  “Here, let me help,” I offered, standing to tidy my own place.

  “No, just sit. I have a proposition for you.”

  “The last time you said that, I wound up one of your bachelor sacrifices,” I muttered, still pretending to dread being put on display at the meat market she and Colton were hosting next month.

  “You never know where a charity auction will lead, Finn. Colton and I are living proof.” I turned to look down the hall in the direction Colton had led Ace for his bath. There might be some truth to what Rylee was saying, but I was closed to the subject.

  “I’ve got a girl,” I muttered under my breath as she carried our plates to the sink.

  “Excellent!” she cried as she began to rinse the dishes. “She can be your plus one for Race to the Top, and I’ll meet her then. In the meantime, let’s talk about you sponsoring Corey for the remainder of the school year...”

  Two hours, two more Budweisers, and a hell of a lot of dodging veiled remarks from Rylee, poking around about Kenni later, Colton and I were both ready to sack out. Ace had long been put to bed, yet Rylee was like a cyborg, sorting through spreadsheets and seating charts among other indiscernible items from her command station at the coffee table in the living room. I assumed it was all gala related.

  “I’m heading out,” I said, finally standing and kissing her on the head, with a half-wave to Colton as he also stood, helping Rylee to her feet.

  “Give me just a second.” She smiled as she touched a hand to Colton’s cheek. “I’m going to walk Finn out to his truck.”

  “You mean you’re going to twist his arm about taking that boy under his wing, aren’t you?” he asked nonchalantly as he bent to kiss her. “Don’t take too long.”

  “So, what’s her name, Hawk?” Rylee teased, but I could see the gravity in her eyes. She wasn’t going to let me skirt the subject any longer.

  “Kenni. She’s Matt Michaels’ sister.”

  “Don’t you guys hate each other? You and Matt, I mean,” she asked, her head tilted so she could look directly into my eyes. “Didn’t she also have a thing with Dalton Simmons a while back?”

  “I don’t know anything about Simmons, but yeah, I’m not the president of Matt’s fan club, and he sure isn’t of mine. I’ll ask her to the gala, so you can personally give your stamp of approval. Now, go inside and take care of your men. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

  “Oh, no, you won’t. I’ll see you at The House on your next weekend off from Supercross. We’re going to introduce Corey to dirt bikes.”

  “When you say we, you really mean me, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I mean you. I’ll stand by on the sidelines, with juice and cookies like a good sports mom. Bring Kenni, so I can get to know her while you teach Corey all about dirt bikes.”

  “If I bring Kenni, there’s a ninety-nine percent chance she’ll insist on getting in the dirt.” I snorted. I wrapped Rylee in a bear hug, then hopped into my truck. Watching as she made her way back into her house, I was strangely bereft at not having taken the chance to get a woman’s perspective on my prospective... whatever it was.

  We’d only been home from California for two days, and I was ready to strangle Matt. Finn had taken the checkered flag in Anaheim, and though Matt had followed him mere milliseconds after, he’d been in as foul a mood as if he lost completely. Considering Dalton Simmons had finished fast on both their heels, I was the one who should have been walking around pissed off and wondering where the fuck karma went.

  After Matt caught me kissing Finn, I’d locked myself in my room until the following day, when he was too amped up about the race to confront me about it. From there, the only time I was semi-alone with him was in the pickup hauling his bikes on our way home. He didn’t want to share our personal business with Wally, so he, fortunately, kept to himself.

  I wondered where I’d gone wrong in life—to be twenty-one years old with the highlight of my week being bleaching my brother’s socks a pristine white again. This can’t possibly be as good as life gets, I muttered incoherently, dragging the small but heavy laundry basket down to the garage-floor laundry room.

  Out of nowhere, a tall shadow jumped into the corridor in front of me, blocking my path to the laundry room. Recognizing the lean but muscled build anywhere, I shoved my basket hard into Finn’s chest.

  “What are you trying to do? Scare me into an early grave?” I barked, shoving him one more time.

  “I was hoping you’d leap into my arms, looking for protection,” he replied, pretending to rub at a sore spot on his chest. I shoved him again.

  “First of all, nitwit, you shouldn’t try scaring a girl into your arms. You have to make her want to be there.” I huffed as I pushed past Finn, leaving him holding the plastic hamper.

  “I’ve never known any other way.” He shrugged as he fell in step beside me.

  “What, terrifying girls into liking you?”

  “Well… maybe? I always felt like you have to sneak up on the good ones.” He nodded as I opened the lid to the washing machine nearest the door. “Hence, me, here... in Phoenix... surprising you.”

  “You don’t think that’s just a little creepy? What are you doing here, anyway?” I reached into the basket still in Finn’s grasp and began unloading it into the basin. He was an odd mixture of spontaneous and cheerful with brooding and guilty, so there had to be more to the man than he confessed. Inch by inch, I was falling more in step with him, feeling us vibe in all the best possible ways. If things kept going the way they had been, I wouldn’t be able to put up my fight much longer. My heart begged me to trust him, wanted to believe in the goodness it insisted was there, but my past kept dragging me back into the dark. Nope. I couldn’t trust anyone. Never again.

  “What’s creepy about a guy liking a girl enough to drive eight hundred miles to surprise her for a date? That sounds like a thoughtful guy who’s determined to make you see he’s exactly what you need.”

  “Funny, that’s not what it sounds like to me.” I switched the clothes from the basket into the washing machine.

  “What do you think it sounds like?”

  “Stalking.”

  It was ridiculous, especially right on the heels of my internal TED talk
about not trusting anyone, but his boyish charm disarmed me. Match that with enough sexual swagger to convince an entire room of PTA moms to ditch their husbands and kids while leaving the rest in a five-mile radius with the need to change their panties, and I was D-O-N-E. I was just as susceptible to that arrogance as the next girl, but seeing the small innocence remaining within him, whether he was aware of it or not, made my heart swell and my stomach sink at the same time. Finn Hawkins was a danger I couldn’t afford but was helpless to refuse.

  “Well, I don’t want your blood on my hands, or my floor for that matter, so yes, we can go out tonight,” I answered flippantly, belying the push and pull of my innermost thoughts.

  “I knew you’d see things my way, eventually,” he replied as I recapped the bottle of detergent and tossed it back into my basket. “Now, you have about two hours to finish this chore and get yourself ready. Dress up. I’ll be here at sunset.”

  I opened my mouth to give him a sarcastic retort, but he tossed the basket on top of the washing machine before advancing on me. With one swift move, he slid one hand behind my neck, tilting my face up to his as his other arm snaked around my waist and roughly pulled me flush against his chest. With one magical move, the back of my head was cradled in his hand while his lips devoured mine.

  I gasped, not even realizing with the simple touch of his lips, he stole my breath. The familiar fire ignited my blood faster, more potent than usual, threatening to make me combust on the spot. Mindlessly, I tangled my fingers in his messy strands and tugged hard, trying to bring him even closer, though it wasn’t humanly possible. I knew to expect his hungry technique, but he surprised me further. His tongue slowly and leisurely caressed mine, coaxing me to fall deeper victim to his magnetism. With one random sweep of his tongue over my lips, I suddenly felt like fragile glass that could shatter at any moment—helpless and trusting in his sure hands.

  Gradually, Finn slowed the tempo of the moment and gently separated his mouth from mine. He eased me back to supporting my own weight, then tugged playfully on the hem of my t-shirt.

  “Two hours, Kenni. Dressed up and ready,” he repeated before leaving me standing in the laundry room, gaping after him. What the hell was I going to wear? I was a mechanic. I didn’t have anything fancy.

  ***

  Forty-five minutes later, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, adjusting the position of my breasts in the tight-fitting corset-topped dress Holly had whipped out of her suitcase when I ran back to the apartment, frantically begging for help. She’d taken to staying with Matt and me on the off-weeks from the tour, at least the ones when we were home in Phoenix. It was a scandalous black thing, all body-hugging satin and boning on top and a lace-draped skirt.

  “I can’t go out looking like this,” I muttered, grouchy and worried I’d disappoint Finn, though I told myself, again and again, it didn’t matter what he thought or felt. I was better off thinking of him as the enemy. I had no idea what I was doing, going out with him.

  “You look hella hot!” Holly breathed, jumping up from where she’d been relaxing on my bed. “I admit it’s not your usual style, but you need to live a little. Rumor has it, Finn Hawkins is not one to miss out on. I expect a full report, so I can live vicariously.”

  “Ew, gross,” I gagged as I picked up the shoes Holly had also offered. “I’m not telling you diddly, no matter how grateful I am for the rescue, dubious though it may be.” I tugged on the top of the corset, trying to get some more coverage over my girls.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers, Kenni. Now, if you want to be ready on time, get in the bathroom and do something about your hair and makeup,” Holly insisted, spinning me around by the shoulders and marching me down the hall.

  By the time the sky was streaked with orange and golden clouds, I was ready. Holly had taken over, doing both my hair and makeup since it was clear I didn’t know what I was doing. I could manage mascara, eyeshadow, liner, and lip gloss for a party, but for a fancy date? I was so obviously out of my depth, she took pity on me. For the eight-thousandth time, I was reaching up to scratch at the makeup, making my face itch when the knock came at the door. Holly swatted my arm as she took off to answer it, leaving me standing in the middle of the tiny living room, rubbing the spot where she hit me.

  “Hey there, Hawk,” I heard her drawl, prolonging the ‘aw’ sound, making me roll my eyes. I knew she was putting it on just to mess with me, but I felt my eyes turn green at the sultry tone in her voice. I needn’t have worried, though. Once I saw him, I nearly forgot everything, including my name.

  He was dressed in a black button-down shirt, open at the throat, with pressed black trousers, a thick black belt, and well-worn—but still presentable—black work boots. His hair, which normally looked like a tousled mess, was neatly combed back from his face and gelled into place, but it was his eyes that snared me—even more than normal. Their usual dark gray was replaced with a stormy blue, giving me a shiver. I had no idea what Finn had in store, but if his expression told the story, it was going to be a night I’d never forget. I bit my lip as the vision of Dalton crept in, his infuriating smirk in place, as though it was only a matter of time before Finn knew I was worthless trash. I broke eye contact as the shame set in, my gaze falling to the floor as I cursed myself for being so foolish—first with Dalton, and most likely now with Finn.

  “So, where are you two headed?” I heard Holly purr again, my eyes cutting to her to find her suppressing a grin behind her palm.

  “A buddy of mine recommended a Spanish restaurant nearby,” he said absently, his eyes like lasers burning into the side of my face. I knew he was willing me to look at him, to tell him what was wrong, but I couldn’t. I glanced up with the best fake smile I could muster.

  “We should get going,” I offered, beginning to feel claustrophobic in the small apartment as Finn’s expression intensified.

  “Yes, let’s,” he agreed after a moment’s pause while he studied my face. Holding out his arm, I gently took it, letting him lead me out of the building to his truck. We sat quietly in the cab as Finn drove away, his gaze darting back and forth between me and the road.

  “You want to tell me what’s suddenly gotten into you?” he finally blurted out. “I just want to get to know you, Kenni, but you have me, so I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.”

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered, trying to figure out a credible excuse why I suddenly went cold, without admitting I was afraid I was falling for him. It didn’t matter, anyway. Once he learned the truth about me, he’d toss me straight into the gutter.

  “Look,” he said quietly, the intensity in his eyes fading slightly as he reached out and traced a finger down my cheek. “I know you’re worried about your brother. I’ll handle him. I don’t want to make problems for you, but it’s too late to leave you alone. Matt’s going to have to grow up.”

  My stupid heart was pounding, whispering to me, begging me to open up and give Finn a chance. I bit my lip, indulging in a quick fantasy of unburdening myself to Finn and having him wrap me in his arms and promise everything would be okay. Rather than soothing the way I’d hoped, I freaked right the fuck out. So, saying a silent prayer begging forgiveness, I threw my brother under the bus.

  “It’s just, it’s Supercross, you know? He gets high strung,” I replied, the lie surprisingly easy on my tongue.

  “He doesn’t get physical with you, does he?” That stormy expression was back.

  “Good Lord, no. He knows he’d wake up lighter in the shorts if he ever raised a hand to me. He’s never hit me, not even when we were kids. He’s just annoying and bossy.”

  “That’s a relief. You know I’m not a fan, but I’d hate to have to kill your brother. For your sake, I mean.” He smirked. “I’m a trained assassin, of course, so it wouldn’t affect me in the slightest.”

  “You really are a Renaissance man, aren’t you? Do-gooder, pro-motocross god, and now assassin. I should have brought a second pair of pa
nties,” I teased, my uneasiness slowly creeping away.

  “You shouldn’t have brought any at all,” he muttered under his breath, but I caught it.

  My heart stuttered as I swallowed hard at the thought. I was going to fuck this all up before I even got started. That would probably be a good thing in the end, but I was already becoming invested, despite my struggle to remember all racers were the enemy.

  “Just where are you taking me, anyway? How do you even know where you’re going?” I deftly changed the subject back to safer topics.

  “It may defy all logical thought, but I am capable of operating the GPS system,” Finn replied dryly. “We’re going to a Spanish restaurant a buddy of mine told me about. The cuisine is supposed to be the most authentic in all of Arizona.”

  “Is there a reason you chose Spanish food over something more common? Say, pizza?”

  “How can I impress you with a pizza? Don’t get me wrong, I like it as much as the next guy, but I wanted to share something meaningful with you. In this case, it’s my fascination and love for all things Spanish. Call me an Iberophile.”

  “Call you a what?” I asked, sure I’d never heard of such a thing.

  “Never mind,” he dismissed me with a chuckle. “It just means I’m a wannabe Spaniard. Have you ever been to Spain?”

  “No, I’ve never been out of the United States.” I shook my head as my equilibrium finally began to settle, only to find myself knocked for a loop again as soon as he graced me with a bright, earnest smile. My heart flipped in my chest so hard, I had to grab hold of the truck door armrest to steady myself.

  “Then you’re in for a treat. I hope you brought your curiosity and your appetite.” He steered us into the parking lot of a very posh looking restaurant decorated in a warm, Mediterranean style.

  I couldn’t imagine being hungry unless you counted my suddenly insatiable desire to spend the rest of the night in Finn’s truck making out. My emotions were warring with each other, no matter which way I turned. My subconscious was imploring me to run fast and far. Finn was the enemy. My heart and my body? They had other ideas. It’d be a miracle if I made it halfway through the first course without detonating.