Acres, Natalie - Pole Position [Country Roads 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (6 page)

“How long has it been since you last saw him?”

She shrugged and fought to restrain the tears threatening to dampen her face. She knew the day, time, and place when she last saw Colt and Brant. “I was a kid.”

“Well you aren’t a kid now. Get out there and rope in a cowboy, lady. If you leave one of them on the bar tonight, I swear I’ll take them both home with me.”

Princess balked at that. Catherine always picked up guys in strange towns. She had one of the nicest and most frequented RVs on the lot. She’d also earned herself quite the reputation. Princess was not about to let Colt or Brant end up paying a visit to Catherine’s mattress.

Oh no, if a headboard was going to bang tonight in that Bristol infield, she fully planned to be the inspiration behind the wood.

* * * *

The music started again and the DJ said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we promised you a rocking night here at Bristol Streets. We believe in keeping our promises! Let’s introduce the ladies who will be behind the wheel tomorrow. What’d you say we put our hands together and welcome Bethany Brooks!”

The crowd clapped, a few men hollered, and Miss Brooks sashayed across the bar after a few men hoisted her up and helped her to her feet. Dressed in the same provocative attire, Bethany shot Colt a quick glance. His stomach rolled as he watched the woman shake hands and sign autographs. The men looked as if they couldn’t wait to grope her. The DJ told a little bit about her and Bethany smiled as cameras flashed around her.

Brant returned with a frosted beer mug. “Looks like Princess will be properly introduced in a minute. Maybe after you see her again, you won’t sit there like a sour toad on a log.”

“I doubt that,” he grumbled, unsure if he could sit still while Princess proudly displayed her assets for any man to see.

Two more drivers were introduced. Naturally, they’d saved the best for last. Finally, the DJ said, “And ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together and welcome the sweetheart of racing—Princesssssss Sterlingggggg!”

The crowd went wild. Unlike the three girls who’d gone before her, Princess was practically thrown into midair by a team of guys who lifted her to the bar with their hands pretty much everywhere.

“This kind of thing should be outlawed. Stock car drivers shouldn’t be allowed to run around flashing their cheeks. They ought to have on their uniforms or whatever the hell it is that they wear.”

“Race suits,” Brant said, his gaze working over the girls.

Colt snarled. “My point is they shouldn’t be in a man’s sport acting like sex symbols.”

“And I think they’re fireproof,” Brant added.

Colt shook his head. “Do you not have a problem with this?”

“Truth is, no. I think she looks damn fine. I’m sorry you can’t relax and enjoy yourself. You’d be having a good time if anyone else was up there dancing.”

“Of course I would. But ‘anyone’ isn’t up there. Princess is!”

Princess took a saucy stroll down that long wooden slab. She worked her walk about as well as any woman, acting as if she were born to wear spike heels and really nothing more. Considering the fact the clothes she wore did little to deter a man’s imagination, let alone his fantasies, maybe that was her purpose now.

Colt settled in his chair, and he might have stayed there if she hadn’t stalled in front of this long, thick, metallic-looking pole. And that’s when his heart stopped in the middle of its next beat.

Shooting the crowd a cocksure smile, she hopped on the shiny shaft and those short, slender legs took a pole position guaranteed to make a few men stand up in their breeches and pay attention.

“Holy hell,” Brant said. “Wow. Who would’ve thought the Princess we once knew would end up and be able to move around like that!”

“Put your dang tongue back in your mouth,” Colt said, watching as she leaned all the way back. She took a butterfly’s position, opened and closed her legs, and rode that pole like she hoped to get something out of it.

“Good Lord, if she can do that to a piece of furniture, what can she do to a man who bucks back?”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Colt said, tipping his cowboy hat and hiding under the brim.

“That ain’t gonna solve your problem,” Brant told him. “I can already see where this is heading and trust me, that’s not a good idea either.”

When Colt looked up, Princess lost her shoes. She planted her bare feet on the pole and twirled around the width of the long shaft, sliding up and down until Colt was hot.

He was fired up in a way he’d never been, and he was also primed and ready to shoot off something substantial if the right girl allowed him. Princess struck a chord in him that had never been ignited. He’d never seen a woman who’d had such an effect on him, and he didn’t think he ever would again.

Before he realized he’d stood, he strolled toward the bar. His hand propelled forward and without thinking, because he seldom thought in situations such as this, he grabbed Princess by the hand and gave her a gentle tug. A startled expression washed over her face, but before she protested aloud, he gave her a true yank and caught her in his arms.

Chapter Nine

“I wondered how long it would take for you to come up and say hello,” she said gleefully, wrapping her slender arm around his neck. “Aren’t you ever going to age, cowboy?”

He smiled at that. “You’re still as charming as the day I met you.”

“I’m a lot of things now that I wasn’t then,” she teased.

His cock immediately twitched and he wondered if she already suspected he was in awe of her.

Her aqua-blue eyes pierced through his as he sheltered her from the crowd. “You saw me and didn’t come over to say hello?” he asked, stalking the table where he’d left Brant.

“Of course I saw you,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek. “How ya been, Colt? I’ve missed you.” She dragged out the word “missed,” and the way she looked at him was truly a good man’s undoing. If he’d had decent intentions—and he didn’t—they would’ve been shot to hell in a sweet Southern minute.

“I’m good,” he snapped, still pissed over her behavior regardless of the many ways she softened him. “You?”

She grinned and his heart melted much the same way it used to when she was a little girl. “I’ve been doing all right, I guess. After Dad died, I had a hard time…adjusting, I guess you would say. But things are slowly coming around. I get by.”

A woman who looked like Princess did a little more than just survive. “Your father died?”

“My adoptive father.”

“Yes, I remember,” he said, realizing he sounded a bit harsh.

“He was killed in a stock car. Imagine that, huh? Don’t you follow racing?”

“He does now,” Brant said, rushing them. “Look at you, kid. You’re all grown up.”

Somehow, Brant kept his eyes from going on tour. Unfortunately, Colt hadn’t stopped staring. Lucky for him, he was able to keep reminding himself of the little girl she’d once been. Otherwise, he might have taken more than her body in his arms. He might have stolen away with her lips soon thereafter.

Thank God he remembered. Still, the memories were rapidly fading.

Colt released her and she immediately gave Brant a hug. Her thin limbs wrapped around his neck and she pressed her chest to his, squeezing him. Then, she turned around with open arms ready for Colt again. “Let me get a hold of you!”

She whipped her little body around him and held him to her. “I swear if I’d known how good-looking you two would be when you grew up, I would’ve fought that judge myself.”

“You wouldn’t have won,” Brant told her, a total look of disgust washing over him.

“Well, yeah, I know all about that now,” Princess said. “Back then, I had a problem with it. I used to cry myself to sleep until one day my mother came in and sat down and explained everything.” A beat later she added, “It must’ve been really difficult for the two of you.”

“It was,” Brant replied. “We made plans, of course. We moved in together in hopes of projecting the right kind of image for the judge and those in child services, in the event the judge didn’t find appropriate parents for you. We wanted to keep you, but we were young. We weren’t appropriate parents for a little girl. You know that, right?”

Her head tilted to the side and she said, “I always knew that. You two were the only people I’d ever known who tried to give me a chance. I wasn’t much to look at back then, a scrawny kid with a dirty face, and somehow, you saw potential and well, look at me now.”

“Yeah,” Brant said. “You still get a little grease on your face. I read the sports page on the Internet, and you’ve been known to get your hands dirty.”

“Yesterday it was mud and filth and today, oil and smoke.” She sighed and her mouth twisted around like she further pondered what might have happened all those years ago. “So are the two of you still together?”

“Still live right there in Morristown,” Brant replied.

“That’s great!” she exclaimed. “I know it must’ve been so difficult on you coming out like you did in order to get a judge to award you custody.”

Brant nodded in agreement. “It was…wait a minute. What do you mean by coming out?”

“You know,” Princess teased. “Out of the closet?”

Brant and Colt stared at one another. Colt swallowed the bile in the back of his throat and said, “You mean your momma told you we were gay?”

“Aren’t you?” she asked.

“Hell no!” they exclaimed together. “Why on earth would you think something like that?”

Princess smiled. “Relax. I don’t think you’re gay but you know that’s why the judge wouldn’t let me stay with you while they found an appropriate home for me, don’t you? That’s what my mom always said. She told me that it was difficult for gay men to raise a little girl, particularly in the South.”

“We aren’t gay, kid,” Brant said, still calling her by the nickname he gave her all those years ago.

“I never believed that for a minute,” she assured them.

Colt cleared his throat. He didn’t want to go back and rehash all those memories. They were too painful. Besides, looking at her now he was certain things worked out as they should. He didn’t need to revisit the past. Not now. Not when tomorrow looked a hell of a lot brighter than yesterday or the day before.

“Mr. and Mrs. Sterling wanted you, Princess. You’ve had a good life, haven’t you?” Colt asked, his heart threatening to collapse if she told him otherwise.

She shrugged. “I can’t complain. They were strict, but they loved me.”

Colt tilted his head toward the other girls flaunting their assets. “I don’t think they were firm enough.”

“Believe me, my father ruled with an iron fist.”

Brant’s nostrils flared and his jaw set. “What do you mean he ruled with an iron fist? Did he abuse you?”

“Oh no, nothing like that.” She paused and waved at a race fan. “The truth is, I’m standing here today doing what I love because my father had a dream.”

“He wanted you pole dancing?” Colt asked.

“No, silly,” she replied, blushing. “But he did want me on the pole.”

“What?” Colt asked, trying to follow her.

“Wrong pole,” Brant snipped.

“Do you know anything about stock car racing or not?” Princess asked.

“Not much,” Colt admitted.

She cut her gaze at Brant.

“Don’t look at me.”

“I have a lot to teach you two. The pole position is one of the most desirable positions on the track at the start of the race.”

A fan rushed her before she continued. “May I have your autograph, Miss Sterling?”

“Sure,” she said, elated as she signed the piece of paper stuck in front of her face. “What’s your name?”

“Laura,” the young lady said.

She hurriedly scribbled across the notepad. “Who do you have picked to win tomorrow?”

Laura grinned. “You, of course.”

Princess winked after the fan walked away. “See there? My father’s dreams are coming true.”

“What about you?” Colt asked, studying her face, searching for the little girl they refused to leave behind in Kentucky.

She shrugged. “You might be surprised at how simple my dreams are.” She jumped up like she had somewhere to go in a hurry. “And you might be surprised to know that after all these years I still dream about you, and I’m still awaiting that fairy-tale ending.”

* * * *

Later that evening, Princess was in her bed all alone. She tossed and turned one way or the other, trying to hold on to the parting words she’d had with Brant and Colt. After she’d signed autographs, she’d returned to the pub to thank the owners, and then they’d walked her to her car. Once there, she’d asked them if they planned to stay for the race. After they promised they’d be around, she’d given each of them a peck on their cheeks and said goodnight.

Why hadn’t she thought to invite them back to her camper for a drink? Why had she been so timid when she reached over to plant a kiss on each of their cheeks? Why hadn’t she given them each a saucy peck on their lips?

“Why? Why? Why?” she whined aloud.

Tossing another pillow under her neck, she stretched her arms overhead and stared at the ceiling. In the distance, she could hear the partygoers having a good time. Sometimes she wondered what it might be like to go from town to town, bed to bed.