It was sweet, wasnt it? Beau said, the adrenalin rush that came with rocketing down a quarter-mile track in less than four and a half seconds was beginning to subside. It was like a five-second orgasm with an unpredictable woman. From the instant the light went green, signaling him to go, he was never sure what would happen on the run, but it was guaranteed to be a rush. If we run that again tomorrow, we should qualify first.
Ill ramp it down some and thatll take care of the spin, Darnell said, glancing up and handing off the socket wrench to Tim.
Beau nodded. As crew chief, Scooter oversaw all the adjustments based on track and weather conditions, but Darnell was damn near a genius when it came to motor setups. Whove we got to beat tomorrow? Mitchell or Taylor?
Mitchell. They dropped in a new motor but youre still the better driver.
And without arrogance, Beau knew it was true. Driving a race car was in his blood. Hed been born with a need for speed. Its what the Stillwell men did. His father had raced, his grandfather had raced, and stories of his great-grandfather Theodore Stillwell outrunning prohibitionists in a Model T in his day was local legend around Dahlia, Tennessee. Before that, the Stillwell men were hell at the helm of a buggy. In fact, family rumor had it that Stillwells drove a mean chariot in the day. That, however, was totally unsubstantiated Stillwell family lore.
A couple of fans stopped by to check out the car. Beau recognized the guys as motorheads who showed up at every race. They were still looking over the engine and bending Darnells ear when a blonde and a brunette in matching jeans and what hed guess to be double Ds in tube tops strolled into the pit area.
Hi, Im Sherree, the blonde said, and this is Tara. Would you take a picture with us?
Certainly, ladies. He offered them his most charming smile.
Sherree shoved a camera at Scooter, and within seconds Beau was sandwiched between heavily perfumed feminine flesh, those matching double Ds pressing against his arms on each side of him.
Say nitrous oxide, Scooter instructed.
I thought it was cheeseisnt it cheese? Tara asked.
On the other side of the camera, Scooter, ever the prankster, grinned.
Cheese is fine, Beau assured her. He wasnt particularly surprised when one of them grabbed his ass a second later.
Scooter snapped the photo and returned the camera. Sherree murmured a thank-you and turned her attention back to Beau. Want to party with us later? she asked.
The invitation didnt surprise him any more than her copping a feel. Women liked him. They always had. And he liked them, too. And no doubt Tara and Sherree had a good time in mind and it was sort of crazy because itd been a while since hed partied and they were hot, but he just wasnt feeling it.
He shook his head. Unfortunately, Ive got a busy evening, ladies. No partying for me.
Sherree offered a moue of disappointment and another rub of her bodacious silicone tatas against his bicep. Then youll just have to call us for your celebration party when you win. She tucked a piece of paper into his jeans pocket, sliding her fingers suggestively along the edge of his pants.
Ill keep that in mind.
They left, mouthing in unison Call me over their shoulders.
Lucky bastard, Scooter muttered. They both knew he was just talking. Scooter had lost his wife, Emma Jean, two years ago and had never mentioned another woman. Scooter didnt say much, but Beau knew he missed her. Hell, theyd been married longer than the thirty-two years Beau had been alive.
A father and his young son, both wearing Stillwell Motors Racing T-shirts, came by for an autograph. They left and Beau and the crew spent a few minutes discussing setup adjustments for 10.5 qualifying the following day.
You staying here tonight? Scooter asked.
Might as well. His major sponsor had shelled out the money for a sweet setup at the end of last years winning season. Theyd outfitted Stillwell Motors Racing with a toter home and race trailer that were both nicer than what he was living in now. But soon
If he walked away with the 10.5 championship again this year, hed have his money in place to build his house. Just as hed promised his father before he died sixteen years ago, Beau had taken care of his mother and his sister. But it had been more than a deathbed promise.
Before he drank himself to death, Monroe Stillwell had bankrupted them and theyd lost everythingtheir home, cars, even their furniture. Theyd been left with the clothes on their back, tattered pride and precious little else. As a teenager, Beau had vowed hed never owe a red penny to anyone again. If he didnt owe, no one could come in and take what he considered his.
Between racing and his construction business, hed made enough money to build his mother a house and set her up with a dress shop in downtown Dahlia. He was damn proud that his mother had turned Beverlys Closet into a thriving enterprise. Hed put Caitlyn through college and helped her find a job. Now it was his turn.
His cell phone buzzed at his side and he glanced at the caller IDspeaking of the devil. He let it go to voice mail. Scooter raised an eyebrow in inquiry.
Caitlyn, Beau said. Between her and that wedding planner, theyre driving me bat-shit crazy.
Why dont you just talk to the woman and get it over with?
She wants to know when I can start the remodel on Belle Terre. I havent had time to get out there. Which suited him just fine. Everyone looked at Caitlyns fiancé, Cash Vickers, and saw Nashvilles newest rising star. Beau looked at Vickers and saw heartbreak for his sister.
He didnt like Vickers. He didnt think for a second the guy was good enough for his baby sister. To begin with, women were all over the guy, and he seemed to like them in return. Second, Beau had been most unimpressed when Cash had bought Belle Terre. It seemed like a extravagant, fiscally irresponsible move to him. Caitlyn had already been the victim of one financially irresponsible mantheir father. She sure as hell didnt need a husband who spent money like water. And forbidding Caitlyn to marry Vickers would simply push her in his direction all the harder. Not to mention that his sister was old enough to do whatever she wanted to do. But Beau figured if he dragged his feet long enough, time would prove his rope and Vickers would hang himself.
And that wedding planner needs to get a life. Shes called me twice a day every day for two weeks.
Hed been legitimately busy the first week, but her nagging calls had irritated him to the point that this past week it had become a game to try and drive her as bat-shit crazy by avoiding her calls as she was driving him.
Scooter shook his head. You might as well surrender now. Women and weddings. You aint gonna know a minutes peace until they trade I-dos. He should know. His daughter, Carlotta, had gotten married the year before Emma Jean died.
You never surrender until youve put up the good fight.
Im telling you, Beau, you might win a skirmish or two, but theyll win the war.
Beau grinned when he remembered the voice mail Ms. Natalie Bridges had left him earlier today. Shed been polite but he didnt miss the terse impatience underlying her message. She was frustrated. That was good. Maybe shed quit and Caitlyn would have to start all over with another wedding planner. All of which meant more time for Vickers to screw up and show Caitlyn his true colors.
Ive got a couple of good battles left in me. Let Nightmare Natalie bring it on.
THERE IT WAS. Black toter home and trailer with Stillwell Motors Racing emblazoned on the side in purple and silver. Finally. Now that shed rubbed a blister on her heel from hobbling along in a broken shoe.
Three men in uniforms that matched the black, silver and purple color scheme were under what shouldve been the hood of the car. Except the hood was sitting on a rack to the side. Whatever. She cleared her throat, interrupting.
Excuse me. Im looking for Beau Stillwell. She glanced expectantly from one man to the other. A short guy with thinning red hair had the name Scooter embroidered on his shirt. Next to him stood a lanky fellow with a crew cut, whose shirt designated him as Tim. On the left side of the car was an African-American named Darnell.
The short man exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible glance with the other two and stepped forward. Scooter Lewis, he introduced himself. He grimaced and shook his head with a grin. Youd probably rather not shake my hand right now.
No problem. Im Natalie Bridges and Im
Scootershe was so sure his mother hadnt given him that name at birthinterrupted with a nod and a quick grin. Youre that wedding planner out of Nashville.
Lanky Tim couldnt contain a snicker, which earned him an elbow in the side from Darnell. Hey, man, watch it. Tim groused.
Yes. Im the wedding planner. Its so nice to meet you, Mr. Lewis. She tilted her chin up a notch while keeping her smile firmly in place. She didnt have to be the sharpest tool in the shed to figure out that if these three had heard of her it wasnt because their boss had been singing her praises.
Just call me Scooter. Everybody does. And this heres Tim and Darnell.
Gentlemen. She nodded and smiled a greeting while Tim shuffled his feet and blushed and Darnell bobbed his head in a quick acknowledgment. I can see youre busy and I apologize for interrupting. If someone could just tell me where I might find Mr. Stillwell If they told her hed just left the track, she wasnt so sure she wouldnt just pitch a hissy fit right here, right now.
Scooter jerked his thumb over his shoulder. Beaus in the toter. Id go get him for you, but He held up greasy hands. Just let yourself in. Meltdown averted.
She skirted the car and gave a wide berth to a jack. She didnt know squat about cars, but even she recognized that was one big motor, which probably accounted for why Beau was the points leader. The overloud announcer had mentioned it exhaustively during her trek.
She stood on the lower step of the door Scooter had indicated and raised her hand to knock. Just go on in, Scooter yelled, waving her on. Dont worry about knocking. Folks come and go at the track all the time.
Okay. Far be it for her to screw up the way things were done at the track. She grabbed the silver latch on the door that reminded her of her grandparents camper and stepped into the motor home, clicking the door in place behind her. The similarities ended there. This certainly wasnt her grandparents camper.
Instead of orange shag carpeting and yellowed Formica countertops, she was standing on hardwood flooring, looking at granite counter tops and a tiled backsplash. A baseball game, the sound muted, flickered on a flat-screen TV mounted over the opening to the cabs cockpit to her right. Dark, blackout curtains were drawn over the windows in the front, affording privacy inside.
And still no Beau Stillwell. Hello? she called out.
The panel door to her left slid open. Oh. My. All the spit in her mouth evaporated. A whoosh of heat roared through her as she stood rooted to the spot.
Tall. Big. Heavily muscled arms, chest, and legs. Dark hair on his headand his chestand his legs. Wet and naked, save for the white towel held precariously low on his hips. But it was the mocking blue eyes fringed with sooty lashes in a rugged, square-jawed face that did her in.
Can I help you?
Are you Beau Stillwell?
He bowed at the waist, overwhelmingly masculine, overwhelmingly arrogant, overwhelmingly almost naked. At your service.
What she meant to say, what she fully planned to say fell in the category of offering her name by way of introduction. But, honest to Bob, she couldnt even remember her name because just breathing the same air seemed to have annihilated all of her brain cells. Obviously. Because what came out of her mouth instead of a calm professional introduction was, You can kiss my ass.
Chapter 2
THATS THE MOST interesting proposition Ive heard all night, Beau said in a deliberate drawl despite the adrenaline rush that slammed him. He felt as if hed been turned upside down just looking into her light brown eyes, which had widened with surprise and then narrowed with temper. He hung on to his coolby a threadbecause this woman shook him upand he was never shaken up. But maybe you could hop in the shower first to lose the beer smell. He moved the hand holding his towel in place, as if he were about to pass it to her. You can borrow my towel.
She whipped around, presenting him with her back, before he got the last word out of his mouth. Keep the towel, she snapped, staring straight ahead. Her rear view did nothing to settle him down. Beau liked his track straight and his women curvy, and she had nice curves from head to toe.
She drew a deep breath. Look, Im sorry. We got off on the wrong foot and I apologize for barging in. Mr. Lewis told me to just come on in without knocking.
His idea of funny.
And she was his idea of hot.
Was that a snort?
Ill step back out until youre decent, she said.
He itched to reach out and pull the pins from her hair and watch it tumble down around her shoulders. No need to step outside. Itll take me no time to dress, but theres no guarantee Ill be decent. Clothes dont make the man.
She wanted to tell him to kiss her ass again. It was there in the rigid set of her shoulders. Instead she said, Fine. Ill wait.
Ill just be a minute, he paused for effect, sweet thing. Beau slid the bathroom door closed and took two steps into the bedroom to get decent. He was pretty sure the sweet thing business had been over the top. Hed sounded like a bona fide asshole. But that was the pointto goad her into quitting to delay the whole wedding thing. Hed told her to wait in the toter home because she was obviously uncomfortable with him being undressed, and the more uncomfortable she was the better. It didnt have a thing to do with some crazy-ass notion that now that hed seen her he didnt want her to leave.
He pulled on fresh underwear and a pair of worn jeans. Natalie Bridges, he recognized her voice, was a wreck. Hed seen guys barrel-roll cars and climb out afterwards in better shape. But insanely he found her hot and sexy in a way he hadnt found the tube-top twins earlier.
Maybe it was the flash of anger in her brown eyes or the lush fullness of her pink lips or the semitumble of her hair. It was her mouth. There was something so damn sexy about the fact that with the rest of her obviously a messhe was almost certain that was mustard on her left breasther lipstick had been perfect. In fact, he was pretty damn sure she had the most perfect mouth hed ever seen.