Pedal to the Metal: Love's Drivin' but Fate's Got the Pole (The 'Cuda Confessions Book 3) (39 page)

I blinked, as though that would help my hearing. “W-what?”

“If it’s your baby, it’s my baby. I’ll raise it, feed it, wipe its ass, make sure it’s better’n you at math.”

“But, this—”

“Is another test? Did you think I’d fail, like Brandon? Don’t matter to me how that baby got started. She’ll slide into the world and land in my hands. And that’s all there is to that.”

Oh, God, the earnest look in his eyes sank through me, washing away the pain. Not just the pain of today, or any hurtful yesterday. Every bit of pain I’d ever felt submerged under a tidal wave of love.

“Much as it hurts me to say this, I’m gonna let you teach her to shift. Or, if you ain’t ready, I’ll hold you tight through whatever comes next.”

If there’s a place where the dead live on, Caine Hannah, your mama’s proud of you right now.

I was a fool.

A fool for this man. A fool to think I could ever give any other man more than a shadow of myself.

A single thrust of his hips split my heart wide open. I gripped his hands while he rocked into me. The tender honesty in his eyes stoked the slow burn in my belly every bit as much as his rigid cock. He never lifted his upper body, allowing nothing between us but our sweat. I locked my legs around his waist, arching with need and drowning in my two private oceans. Flurries of harder thrusts followed slow, teasing penetration, until my head spun with the ways he played my body.

“I love you.”

“That’s a race you’ll never win,” I murmured, shutting off any argument with a heated kiss.

I held on for dear life when he got to his knees. The same sensations that ran through me before a race ripped through me now. He tensed and gathered himself. Soon, the hard slap of skin against skin rang in my ears, but inside my heart, another sound played.

I love you. I love you. I love you
.

Forced open in new ways, my climax soared and broke, leaving me shuddering. He ground into me one final time, moaning with each pulse of his cock.

Glued together with sweat, I floated back to earth, only to meet his steady gaze.

“This is one test you better never try me on again.” His eyes flashed and he let go of my hands, only to grab my left wrist. Wiggling the ring over my knuckle, he tossed the thin band onto the nightstand, then lifted my hand to his lips. “This finger stays bare till I put somethin’ on it. Understand?”

With him still buried inside me, his words hit me with the impact of a vow.

“Yes.”

He rolled onto his side, pulling me with him. I squirmed until I had my head on his shoulder, then pushed my knee between his thighs.

His silent chuckle shook the bed. “Don’t get too comfortable. The world’s still blowin’ up around us.”

I had to process too many emotions before we could talk about... us. Thankful Caine seemed to sense that, I seized the first question flitting through my head. “Why would Dale take Jesse on as a partner? Why does he even need one? I thought that was what sponsors were for.”

He cupped my head and brought my lips to his before he answered. “If one sponsor gives you five bucks and another promises you fifty, and the one writin’ the big check reneges, the guy who gave you the five bucks still expects to see the car out there. The actual money we’re talkin’ ranges from a quarter of a million, to thirty-five million bucks. You can’t go racin’ without about five million in the bank—per car—for rainy days. Jesse’s pockets are pretty deep.”

Too much was riding on this. Robert and his father were right. If I went out there, I’d screw up.

Then, my brain made one of those offbeat connections. In the memory, Dale and I were in his truck in the teacher’s parking lot at the high school, waiting for Coach Tindall to show up. He’d started talking about Robyn. About how the mean girls tore her down. But, he put some of the blame on Robyn, too, for not believing in herself.

Buildin’ her up got to be too damn much for me. I was just a kid myself.

Ernie’s voice chased the confrontation with Coach Tindall away.
But only you have the car and two million people who already listen to what you got to say.

Thanks to the smack upside the head that Kolby had given me, that number had soared far north of three million this semester, because playing around on social media was easier than trying to decipher words I’d learned back in third grade. Every time I’d get frustrated, I’d peel off task and play on Twitter or Instagram. 

He took my hand, smoothing his thumb across my knuckles. “Dad failed with that little bastard and he can’t admit it.”

I jerked my hand away. “Failed? How?”

He sighed. “Quit lookin’ at me like you’re pickin’ the spot to cut my throat. The man don’t walk on water. Dad had Kolby winnin’ his first couple of years in the Cup series, but, just like Ervin’s buddy, Randall Underwood, Kolby quit listenin’ when he started rackin’ up trophies. Dad’s done everything he could think of to dial that motherfucker back in, but Kolby ain’t hearin’ him.”

Assuming Caine was right, if I did what Jesse suggested and kept quiet, Kolby would still be on the track next season, holding a grudge. If he needed professional help—how long before Barnes killed someone?

Grabbing my hand again, Caine repeated the stroke across my knuckles. His voice was so low, I had to strain to make out the words. “Dad’s never forgiven himself for my mama takin’ her own life. Not that there was one damn thing he coulda done about that. But, the man might have a savior complex.”

Kolby’s misbehavior wasn’t my only problem. “Do I need to worry about Colt taking matters into his own hands? Or you? Kolby made bail. Sounds like he’ll be back at work any day now.”

His hard eyes sent a shiver down my spine. “If I was him, I wouldn’t walk into an empty garage any time soon.”

I grabbed his hand this time. “Caine, if anything happens to Kolby, for oh, the rest of his fucking life, they’re gonna look at you and Colt first. So, stop telling me I’m the one limiting our time together if that’s how you’re thinking.”

“One of these days, I want you to tell me what you really think.” His grin looked more like a wince. “Right after I go out and buy one of them athletic cups.”

I pushed to a seated position, grabbed a pillow to hold in my lap, and crossed my legs Indian-style. “They’re going to ask about the drag race. Did Dale cheat?”

He traced the silver studs on the toes of my boots. “The only cheatin’ done at that goddamn race is the way Barnes is cheatin’ you outta the credit for bein’ one of the finest goddamn short track racers ever born.”

“Exaggerate much?”

Something flashed in his eyes. “You don’t even know it, do you? I’d kill to be able to do what you do.” He chuffed out a laugh. “First fuckin’ time Dad slapped you behind the wheel of the ‘Cuda, you wound that car all the way out. Not a lick of fear. Not of the car, not of Dad. He loves to tell people about that. Take that attitude out there with you and this’ll go just fine.”

“Don’t avoid the question.”

“Kolby knew about the engine swap before the race. He still put his nose on the line. How’s that cheatin’? You hold your head up and answer any question they ask. Just do it smart. So the bastard don’t sue you for defamation or some shit.”

He took a deep breath. “If you can drop George to his knees like you done Dad, when you told him about Colt, I reckon that’s what needs to happen.”

He raked both hands though his hair. “Follow your instincts, Shelby. If we get kicked out of NASCAR, we get kicked out. George won’t go after Dad. I’ll still be able to support us. You just won’t be havin’ them nasty crab legs you like as often.”

I rolled to the edge of the bed and snagged my dress. Grabbing my phone out of the side pocket, I logged into Twitter.
What are the call signs of the local news stations?

Using Dale’s name as a hashtag, I was surprised to see how many mentions the incident had had. I located a couple of photos posted by local sports reporters.
Fans at Sammy Owens Trauma Center hold prayer vigil for Ridenhour crew chief Dale Hannah,
one caption read. Another said,
live press conference by NASCAR now planned for 10 p.m. outside the hospital where Dale Hannah, Ridenhour crew chief, lies in ICU.

I started a list, adding every Twitter account that’d asked permission to repost the images. Fans would simply share, but reporters and sports bloggers asked permission to repost.

“So, I guess you’re goin’ to work?” Caine pushed to a sitting position.

“Uh huh.” My pulse raced when my ‘Cuda Confessions account received a tweet from an ESPN reporter who covered NASCAR.
Will Dale’s family speak at the press conference?

The question made me think the press was concerned they wouldn’t get the whole story from George. Was there any way to avoid putting any blame at Rick’s feet? I saw Caine’s point about him and Colt needing their jobs, and at the same time, I had to agree with Mom. I couldn’t bear to think they’d have to do those jobs at Kolby’s side.

I hesitated with my thumbs over the keyboard.
Think! Think!
Pushing the blinds aside, I peered out. The street behind the hospital was packed with people. More satellite dishes dotted the sky. The scent of frying eggs hit my nose. My stomach revolted.

Not now, little one!
I let the blinds slide into place and dashed for the panel I prayed hid the bathroom.

Caine stood at the foot of the bed, tugging those ragged jeans over his hips. “You okay?”

“No,” I gasped. “Don’t you smell that?” I jerked the panel aside. The toilet perched underneath the shower head. I hit my knees and lifted the lid just in time to wretch.

I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth. “If Dale doesn’t have a laptop or tablet in this million-dollar hotel on wheels, then I need paper and a pen. And for pity’s sake, tell whoever’s cooking to stop.”

“It’s a sorry damn day when the smell of bacon makes you sick.” Caine skirted the bed. He opened a cabinet door and removed a wash cloth. Running the rag under a stream of water from the tiny sink, he wrung it out and leaned down to lift my chin.

“I’ll check inside.” He wiped the rag across my lips. “Maybe one of the drink machines has ginger ale. We got saltine crackers.”

This wasn’t the time to do a big pregnancy reveal. So much for joining the others.

“Send Caroline back here with the tablet or whatever. And, y’all can’t go to a press conference dressed like refugees from the Eighties.” I squinted. The bedroom had myriad closets and built-in drawers. “Surely you have a change of clothes here?”

“So do you.” He backed out of the tiny bathroom and jerked a drawer open. An amethyst-colored shirt lay folded on top.
My
shirt.

I hung my head over the toilet again. My stomach heaved, even though I couldn’t recall when I’d last eaten. Caine pushed my hair aside and put the cool rag on the back of my neck.

“You have a bad habit of leavin’ clothes behind whenever you run off.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Colt put ‘em in here. So I’d quit standin’ in your fuckin’ closet, tryin’ to smell your perfume.”

We’re a couple now.
My tummy did a different kind of roll.

C
aine hadn’t been gone two minutes before someone tapped on the door. Caroline pushed the panel open at my call to enter.

“Jonny told me about Jesse hornin’ in.” She moved past the bed. “Ow!” Leaning down, she scooped something off the floor. “Is this yours?” She held out an iPhone.

I pointed to the spot where I’d discarded mine on the rumpled spread. “No, it must be Caine’s.”

She tossed his phone close to mine, adding an iPad and charger. “Listen, there’s something you should know.” Perching on the edge of the bed, she lifted troubled eyes to mine. “Dale called me over to the garage last Tuesday. He needed a witness. Shelby, he gave you his power of attorney. Tomorrow, after the adoption, he planned to make you an offer. One year as Hannah-Built’s Chief Operating Officer. If you don’t love the job, he said he’d buy the Audi from you so you’d have the money to do whatever you wanted.”

“You mean the paper giving me the right to make his medical decisions while he’s unable? I thought Doris handled that paperwork.”

“No. I was there when the lawyer explained. General power of attorney means you can sign his name to checks, sell his house, buy an island in his name.” She tucked her hair behind one ear.

My knees turned to jelly. I sank onto the bed at her side. It was all I could do to whisper. “Really?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I don’t know what’ll happen when Mama finds out I’m working for Dale, much less that I’m taking little Shelby and traveling with Jonny next season. I can do everything I’m doin’ for Dale in the cloud.” She straightened her shoulders. “But she’ll have to get over it. When Jonny looks at me and says ‘I want you with me right now’, that’s where I gotta be.”

I’d never seen hope in Caroline’s eyes, but the flame I saw there now burned right through me. With a trembling hand, I swiped a tear from her cheek. My heart felt too big for my chest.

“Jonny said that, huh? Tough day to be a mother, I guess. I just told mine I was with Caine. In front of the entire Ridenhour crew. So, looks like we’ll be together. That’s why I have to get rid of Kolby.” As I said the words, my resolve hardened.