Racing Destiny (Dirt Track Dogs Book 5) (2 page)

She laughed, because
this
was what she’d treasure always. These memories with a friend she could share her dreams with.

A friend for life is better than a lover for a moment
.

“On your mark, get set… GO!”

In an instant, she shifted, her cat bounding forward without even a glance back at the wolf.

And she ran.

Chapter Two

It was Sunday, and that meant dinner at the alpha’s. The big house had become Surge and Tana’s, while Drake’s new house was perfect for gatherings like this. Tana had built a great dining area that could fit a board room sized table, and everyone contributed, potluck style. It had become a weekly DTD tradition, where the families could come together and unwind from the stresses of the week.

Diz dumped his purchased packages of yeast rolls on the counter. One of these weekends, he should get together with Dessy and actually make something to bring. She could do the cooking and he could stir or some shit. Yeah, that could work. He’d talk to her about it later.

He scanned the room, but she wasn’t there yet.

Surge and Annie bustled around the open kitchen, warming things and making sure everything had a serving spoon.

“Yo, yo,” Surge said, looking up from the stove. “You got the rolls?”

“Yep. Brought double this time.”

“That’s my boy. Never enough rolls.”

Diz jumped backward, barely moving out of the way in time as Gracie ran past him into the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around Surge’s leg like a little starfish.

“Daddy, Daddy! Uncle Blishter
growled
at me!”

Surge looked down at the little thing, with her brunette ringlets. “Aw, baby. He’s just playin’ I’m sure.”

She shook her head, her bottom lips trembling. “Uh uh. He shaid we were having a kitten for dinner. Ish that true?”

Surge frowned.

“Blister!” Annie yelled, and he appeared, leaning casually against the entryway.

A grin curved his scarred cheek. “What?”

Surge glared at him. “Am I going to have to beat your…”

Blister raised one eyebrow, and Diz waited to see what would come out of Surge’s mouth. Tana had been on them all about their potty mouth antics in front of Gracie. She could already say “fuck that” with all the authority of a grown shifter.

“…hiney?” he said finally, and both Diz and Blister burst into a fit of laughter while Grace snuggled closer to his leg.

Annie crouched low to look into the little girl’s eyes. “Listen, honey. I’ve got some experience dealing with your Uncle Blister. Wanna know my secrets?”

Grace nodded.

“He needs extra love,” Annie whispered.

“Like… like more huggins?” Grace’s word for hugs always made Diz smile.

“Yes. But first you have to get his attention. Do you know how to do that?”

Grace shook her head.

Annie peeked at Blister. “Well baby, you’re going to have to hiss at him. Your mama taught you how to do that, right?”

The girl’s eyes got big as she nodded.

“Try it,” Annie encouraged.

“I’d never be scared of a little baby kitten,” Blister scoffed, playing their game.

“You might be scared of
my
baby kitten,” Surge snapped.

Diz could see Gracie gathering her courage. With her daddy and Annie in her corner, she felt she could win against big, bad Uncle Blister.

Carefully, she pulled away from Surge’s leg and faced her opponent. “We don’t eat kittens in thish family, mishter,” she declared.

“That right?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Guess it depends on who the kitten is.”

With that, she’d had enough. Hands on her tiny hips, she let out a squeaky hiss packed with enough three-year-old venom to make… well, to make them all laugh, but somehow they held it in.

Blister straightened abruptly, his face going serious. He dropped to his knees close to her, bowing his head. “I’m so sorry, Gracie. You’re right. We don’t eat kittens in this family. Can you ever forgive me?”

A sweet little satisfied grin formed on her lips, and then she ran forward, wrapping her arms around his scarred neck. “I forgive you Uncle Blishter. You jusht need extra huggins sho you ain’t sho mean.”

“Yes, I do,” he agreed.

Diz laughed. “Yeah, that girl won’t have any problems when her mate shows up.”

Surge snapped a glare at him. “Do not speak of that.”

Diz raised both hands in the air. “I’m just sayin’…”

“Sayin’ what?” Ella asked as she waddled in from the living room, hand rubbing her swollen belly.

“Talking about Gracie’s future. Shouldn’t you be sitting?”

She rolled her eyes. “All I do is sit. I’m tired of sitting. I’m ready for this young to make its debut.”

“We all are,” Drake chimed in, coming up behind her to kiss her cheek.

“Ugh. Don’t touch me,” she said, pushing him away.

“What? What did I do?”

“I just don’t like the feel of skin on skin. It makes me cringe. Like nails on a chalkboard, you know.”

He frowned, muttering, “You weren’t saying that earlier.”

Ella’s eyes got big and she smacked him on the chest.

“What? You weren’t! You were very happy with skin on skin this morning.”

She shook her head, giving him a glare Diz never wanted to see from his own mate. “When this baby is born, you’re getting
every
3am feeding, I
swear
, Drake Folsom.” And then she waddled back to the living room without another thought.

“What was that all about?” Surge laughed.

Their alpha scowled. “Fuck if I know.”

Four sets of eyes snapped to him.

“What? Oh. Shit—I mean, crap. Damn. I mean…” He took a deep breath and bent low to meet Grace’s eyes. “You don’t say those bad words Uncle Drake says, right? You know that.”

She nodded. “Yesh, I know. Can’t shay shit or damn or fu—”

Drake quickly covered her mouth with his palm while Diz and the others tried to hold in their snickers. He actually looked afraid. “Damn it, your mama’s going to kill me.”

Punk walked in carrying a cake she’d bought from the store. Chocolate, it looked like. Beast followed her, with little Artie on his hip. The pack had just celebrated his first birthday last week. The wolfling gripped one of Beast’s dreadlocks in his tiny fist, chewing on the end.

“He teething?” Diz asked, surprised at Beast’s casualness with the idea of drool in his locks.

“Teething? Yeah. I guess that’s what it is. All I know is he won’t let go without screaming like a banshee. So… this is where he stays.”

Punk stood on her tiptoes, kissing the baby’s head and then touching her lips briefly to Beast’s. He made a sound that resembled a purr and Diz rolled his eyes, scanning the place again for Dessy.

She needed to get here fast. He didn’t like playing the third wheel. Or… ninth wheel. Whatever. At least when she was around they could third-wheel it together. Two third wheels made a... something. A bicycle. Yeah, that’s what they made. The best damn bicycle you could imagine.

What he really needed was his mate. Like, really fucking bad. He’d done a swell job keeping it to himself all this time, but his wolf was hurting like a motherfucker. He was perpetually horny—which was seriously unfortunate when he spent time with Destiny—but that wasn’t the worst of it.

Diz looked around, taking it all in, letting himself dwell on the path that led them to this. In three years, things had changed a lot. The guys had homes. They’d built families. Blister’s tent days were long gone. The future looked bright.

But where was Diz? He still stayed in the room above the shop, not an inch closer to mating. The only real good he’d had from the last few years, besides becoming an uncle, was his friendship with Dessy. What he had with that female made all the waiting worth it.

The door creaked open and she slipped in carrying several two liter bottles.

“There you are,” he exclaimed, and she met his gaze with a soft smile.

That smile. The one that made his heart thump outrageously in his chest.

He forced everything down. The acknowledgment that she had any physical effect on him. The fact that he’d been looking for her since he’d walked in. The idea that their friendship could shift to something fiercer in an instant. All of it. He shoved that shit way the fuck down.

He couldn’t think of it. Because he refused to hurt her. One day he’d be so dedicated to another, Dessy would hardly matter.

The thought left him feeling sick.

No. She’ll always matter. She will.

From the moment he’d pulled her from the gully, she was a crucial part of his life. His wolf wouldn’t take that away from him.

He rushed forward to help her with the bottles, but he was intercepted by tiny feet slapping the floor.

“Dessinee!” Grace cried, running full force at her sister’s legs.

Destiny let out a quiet
oof
when the toddler slammed into her, but managed not to drop the coke. Diz reached over the little girl, relieving Dessy of her load and carrying it to the counter.

“Hey there, Gracie,” she said, bending to scoop the young into her arms. “What’s made you so smiley today?”

The child giggled. “It’sh Uncle Blishter. I beat him up.”

Destiny’s eyes got big. “You did? But you’re so little, and he’s so big. Are you joking me?”

Grace shook her head, growing serious. “No, ma’am. I really did. I hisshed at him like mama taught me, and he jusht crumbled.”

Destiny laughed, kissing Grace’s puffy cheek. “Good kitty.”

“Time to eat,” Surge bellowed, and everyone gathered around the buffet to fill their plates.

Diz sidled up behind Destiny, anxious to talk to her. About nothing, really. That was the great thing about them. They could chat for ages, shootin’ the shit, and never get tired of it. It was impossible to get bored with her. Her point of view was something that always surprised him. She never reacted the way he expected her to. She’d cry when she should laugh, and laugh when she should cry. She’d tell him things she should keep secret, and keep secrets of his. He could be himself with her, maybe even more than he could with the guys.

Yes, his best friend was amazing.

And so damn pretty.

Her dark auburn hair curled softly around her ear where she’d tucked it to keep it out of her face, and swept over her bare shoulder where her tank top cut off. She was petite, not even reaching his shoulders, and lean. Her waist cinched slightly inward just before her hips, her legs, short but lithe. She didn’t have many curves to speak of, but she didn’t need them. She’d make some male very happy someday.

Diz’s gut turned to lead.

She glanced at him and her happy smile turned to a confused frown. “What’s wrong?”

He looked away, the crease in his brow not letting up an inch. “Nothing.”

He’d thought about her mate many times. The idea of some male cat coming to claim her had never sat well with him. Of course, it was just because of the mating laws of the cats. He wouldn’t let her be forced into a claiming as the cats liked to do. That was why it bothered him. Yes, that was why.

By the time they’d dished up their food and were sitting at the big table, Diz had finally managed to get his shit together so he could enjoy this time with his pack. He laughed at Surge’s antics, got nervous when Ella looked like she was going to stab Drake with her steak knife, and tried to teach Grace how to wink. Artie cooed and painted the table with mashed potatoes. Which happened to make their way into Beast’s dreads. Which was just goddamn funny, meticulous as he used to be about them.

Yes, the pack had changed a lot. The problem was, Diz hadn’t. He was the stagnant one, stuck on pause until fate stepped in.

He glanced at Destiny. She had a smear of chocolate frosting at the corner of her mouth. Without thinking, he reached over, stopping her midsentence, and wiped it gently with his thumb. Then he sucked the frosting off his own finger.

“Oops,” she said, blushing.

But he realized too late the mistake he’d made. Touched her lips. It was like seeing her naked on the grass. Different than what he’d felt around her before. Different than the intimacy they shared as friends. Different in a way that could cause serious damage.

Motherfucking wolf. What did he need to do, strangle the damn animal?

You’ll get your fix when you’re mated. For now, back the fuck off
.

Destiny reached for her water, knocking the glass over. It spilled on the table, and she gasped, quickly picking up pieces of ice and tossing them back into the cup.

“Damn it. Sorr—” She stopped short, her limbs going rigid, her expression blank as a fresh sheet of paper.

“Dessy?”

But she said nothing, frozen in that moment of time. Like she’d touched the water and it was connected to a hair dryer. Shocked into place. If he could pull the plug and release her, he would.

“It’s happening,” Tana said. “A vision.”

“Oh no,” Ella murmured. “Let’s get the kids out of here.”

“What ish it?” Grace asked. “Ish sishy okay?”

“Yeah, baby. She’s fine,” Surge assured her. “Let’s go get some more cake, yeah?”

She grinned wildly. “Yeah!”