Rock Solid (8 page)

The guy took them, still laughing. “Whatever you want, old man. Which car?”

Brody pointed to the car that Aiden had indicated, and while it wasn’t great, it would do.

“Whatever. You’re up next.”

Brody nodded, walking back to Aiden. His nephew was suitably mortified, but Brody only patted him on the shoulder.

“Take it easy, Aiden. Now you don’t have to think of what you would have done if you’d lost your friend’s car.”

The boy glowered. “I wouldn’t have lost.”

Brody grinned in approval. He couldn’t help it. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“We’ll both be in deep if someone recognizes you. Professionals aren’t allowed. It’s like cheating at a casino.”

Brody agreed. That hadn’t changed.

“Well, no one has so far, and I’ll be going too fast for them to see me in a few minutes.”

He caught the smirk that was nearly a smile on Aiden’s face as he headed for the car, and couldn’t deny the thrill that always gripped him before he raced. Granted, this wasn’t a high-tech stock car and it wasn’t a professional track. It was a lot more dangerous, but Brody was up to the task. Especially if it kept Aiden out of the car and out of street racing.

Brody walked around the car, looking under the hood, checking the tires. It was a decent BMW sedan with a few upgrades, but nothing fancy. Good. That would work better. He could depend on his driving, then, not modifications. And if by some chance he crashed, he stood a much better chance of getting out alive.

He wished he had the Charger, though. He’d blow these idiots off the road with that car, but this would have to do. Climbing in, he adjusted the seat, the mirrors and waited until the starting line cleared.

When he pulled up, he looked at the kid next to him sitting in a respectable Corvair, gunning the engine and glaring as if he had a chance.

Brody shook his head and waited for the flag to drop, his fingers flexing on the wheel, good tension invading his limbs as he braced himself for the go.

Just before it did, he saw someone with a camera pointed at the car and did a double take.

It was Hannah.

Spotting him through the lens, she nearly dropped the camera in surprise. Brody lost a half second and started with a lurch as the flare gun went off, the flag coming down and the Corvair getting the jump on him.

What was she doing here...and taking pictures?

He couldn’t think about it now, and reined in his focus to drive, getting a quick feel for the car and the shifting, steadily pulling up on the back end of the Corvair. The other car was fast, but the kid’s driving was messy and he was shifting too quickly. Driving for sound and not sense, Brody thought, now at his side before they hit the cones at the end of the runway. They both had to circle before returning.

Easy enough.

Until the brat in the other car bumped him.

“You picked the wrong car to play with,” Brody muttered.

Bumping was a regular, if criticized practice in racing, as was rubbing, where cars would brush against each other, side to side. It was always risky, but professional drivers normally knew their limits and used the technique strategically.

This kid was just being a jerk. Brody didn’t want him to get hurt, but he could play with him a little, too, and did so.

As the Corvair tried to bump again, Brody quickly swerved to the left, and the other car lurched as it missed him, wobbled and slowed down for half a second before getting its pace back.

Speeding up on him, the driver of the Corvair stupid enough to try again, and Brody challenged him back, pumping the brakes suddenly as the kid was going to bump.

There, Brody thought with a grin, looking in the rearview at the kid’s shocked expression. That had scared the crap out of him well enough.

Then playtime was over, and Brody took advantage of his position, hitting the gas and rocketing toward the finish line.

There were boos and cheers, but he barely heard them, scanning the crowd at the sides for Hannah. He didn’t see her anywhere.

Getting out, he took his money with barely a glance and left the car behind. Business was done, and he walked through the crowd, sought out Aiden. Still no sign of Hannah.

“That was stellar!”

Brody acknowledged his nephew, still distracted. Had he only imagined seeing Hannah?

“Thanks. These are your winnings. Give half to your friend for the use of his car, and extra to repair the dents from the bumping. The rest I’m going to hold on to so you can use it on the Mustang.”

“Okay.”

Brody was shocked at Aiden’s easy agreement.

Teenagers.

“Let’s get out of here,” Brody said.

He’d turned to walk back up to the car when he finally spotted Hannah. Taking pictures and completely oblivious to his presence. But not for long, he thought, heading in her direction, his nephew in tow.

7

H
ANNAH
COULDN
’
T
BELIEVE
how cool this was. How could Brody have even considered leaving her behind when he knew she was looking for more adventure? Maybe he hadn’t wanted her to know he was driving in an illegal drag race? The moment their eyes met through the lens of the camera, it was obvious that he was as shocked to see her as she was to see him behind the wheel of that car.

What was he thinking?

Still, she’d been as rapt as the rest of the crowd watching the two drivers race to the end of the strip, battling it out on the way back. Though she knew Brody was better than any driver they could set against him, she still worried when the cars were bumping and swerving around on the old, rutted road.

Her attention was diverted by all of the action and spectacle around her. She’d been worried about taking pictures at first, but no one seemed to care when she told them the pictures were for her blog. Some of the kids even posed by their cars.

She needed a better wide-angle lens—an item she was going shopping for immediately, she decided. But for the first time since she’d started this photo blogging venture, she was actually taking pictures of something exciting.

“Hannah.”

She whirled around, nearly dropping her camera when she found Brody glaring at her, a young man standing slightly behind him.

“Brody,” she said in the same tone, lifting her camera to get a shot of him and the boy, who was clearly another driver. He was young and tough looking, sporting a black T-shirt with a racing emblem on the front and the words, Ask Forgiveness, Not Permission.

“How did you even know about this place?” Brody asked. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She arched an eyebrow, not feeling very apologetic. “Funny, I was thinking the same about you. You should be glad it was me taking that picture and not, oh, Marsha Zimmer.”

“I was here to get
him
,” Brody said, pointing a thumb behind him at the kid, who must be his nephew, Hannah realized. “The racing was... I didn’t plan on it, but it was an unexpected situation. What’s your excuse?”

Hannah looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, then turned to raise her camera to grab a few more shots before she responded, “I don’t need an excuse. I don’t need to ask permission
or
forgiveness, thank you very much.”

The kid snorted, and Brody shot him a look.

Ticked off by Brody’s domineering attitude, Hannah walked away without saying another word, intending to take some more pictures. A second later, Brody was right behind her, the kid hanging back.

“So that’s your nephew?” she asked, sparing him a glance before she took a shot of two girls in stiletto heels both bent under the hood of a car, checking out the engine.

She’d spoken with them earlier and found out they owned and raced the car. In fact, they were one of the few all-female racing teams. Hannah had been fascinated by them and their story about how they’d gotten into racing. She didn’t know their real names, of course, but she couldn’t wait to write about them.

The girls joked that they changed into their boots or sneakers before they got in the car, but the “do-me heels” and the short skirts threw the guys off. It made the pair seem less threatening, allowing them to get the drop on their competitors out on the track.

“Yes, and you know that’s the reason I came here. I only ended up in that car... Hannah, could you put down the camera?” he said, sounding irritated.

She did as he asked, but didn’t say one more word.

“I’m sorry I said what I did. I know I was out of line, I was just shocked to see you. How
did
you get here? And it
is
a dangerous place.”

“I followed you after you blew me off and left the house. And I think I’m a lot safer taking pictures than you were driving,” she said. “How’d that happen? You fell in a car and it took off?” She spared sarcasm in her tone.

“No. Aiden was scheduled to race, and I didn’t want him to do it, but the stakes were already set. I tried to buy out his bet, but they wouldn’t go for it. If he reneged, they’d have taken the car to make up for the losses—and to discourage people from backing out of other races. But the car doesn’t belong to Aiden, so I took his place. I settled the bets and made sure he didn’t lose the car or kill himself. I couldn’t let him get in that car, and so I did it.”

Hannah’s irritation dissolved like sugar in rain.

“That was good of you, Brody. I’m sorry for being so snotty about it, but I thought you’d come to race, which is why you didn’t want me with you.”

It was his turn to look surprised. “What? No. I haven’t done this kind of thing in over a decade,” he said, shaking his head. But then his lips stretched into a happy smile. “But it was fun. Nice to show that little twerp in the Corvair a lesson, as well.”

“How did you convince them to let you take Aiden’s spot? They must have known you’d be a ringer.”

“They didn’t recognize me. Sometimes that happens when I’m not on the track. People don’t really know me in plain clothes.”

Hannah nodded. “This is amazing,” she said in awe, looking over the field of bodies and cars. It painted a picture that was young and powerful, the music slamming a beat so strong she could feel it through the pavement along with the rumble of the engines.

“We should get out of here before all hell breaks loose, as it’s likely to.”

She looked around the scene, not as miffed as she was, but still reluctant to leave. This was what she wanted, what she craved, dangerous or not. The vibe here was raw, real and edgy. Brody sighed and slid a hand over her shoulder.

“Okay, listen, you’re right. I should have let you come with me. I should have known you’d appreciate an opportunity like this. Did you get good pictures?”

She smiled at him again, genuinely this time. “I got some incredible pictures.”

“I can’t wait to see them,” he responded, looking to each side as if worried. Then a car skidded off the track, hitting a tree, flames lighting up that end of the runway.

Hannah gasped as the other car in the race skidded through the finish line, forcing onlookers back several feet at the last minute. She was also relieved to see someone exiting the flaming car, but then a fight broke out near the finish line. Things were turning ugly fast.

“Okay, let’s go,” she agreed.

“Where’s your car?”

“Up the road a little. Yours?”

“Parked off to the side in a patch of trees.”

Brody’s attention perked as they heard sirens in the distance, and he picked up the pace.

“C’mon, we need to leave, or our first engagement picture will be mug shots,” he said, only partly joking.

They made it to their cars and left quickly, Brody ahead of her with his nephew, just in time to see at least a dozen Florida Highway Patrol cars speed past them, heading toward the airstrip.

A tingle sped down Hannah’s spine, making her shiver as she watched the lights in the rearview. She didn’t want to get arrested, certainly, but the close call was exciting. She thought about all the ways she might work out that excitement once she got back to the farm and was alone with Brody. That set off a whole new set of shivers. Then her thoughts turned serious again.

He hadn’t been out there racing for kicks, and his real reason for being there touched Hannah. Brody would clearly do anything for the people he cared about. He had even tried to protect her, though Hannah didn’t want to be protected.

She was finally living, not simply observing or imagining, and it was wonderful. This was what she’d been missing all those years, hiding in her office behind sheets of numbers. She definitely needed to catch up.

On the side of the road Hannah noted a bar where the parking lot was crammed with motorcycles. She wondered if Brody might take her there, or if he rode a bike. She was fairly sure that if it had wheels, he’d probably mastered it.

Maybe she’d enjoy having a motorcycle, she mused. Women rode all the time these days, and it would save money on gas, too. There were so many possibilities. So much to explore.

She followed Brody through the dark, unfamiliar streets. He stopped in front of a small ranch-style home and signaled her to wait as he dropped the boy off.

It was a reminder that while they were going to be married, what they had now really wasn’t much different from what they’d had during their month-long affair. She was still an outsider. Not really part of the family. Not really his wife in the truest sense.

Which was how she wanted it, right? The last thing she needed now was to be tied down. She was only starting to realize her independence and discover her own dreams.

He came back out shortly after, approaching her car and laying his arm on the roof, seemingly giant from her seated position.

“Sorry about that. I would have invited you in, but I figured Brandi wasn’t going to be happy with Aiden, and I wanted to talk to her privately for a minute, try to help the kid out if I could.”

He was a big man. Hannah loved how his shirt stretched across the muscles of his chest, and couldn’t help admiring the carved lines of his biceps and forearms, so nicely shaped and strong. It made her swallow hard, licking her lips.

“I understand completely—no worries,” she replied, her voice more breathless than she intended. She couldn’t help herself from reaching up, touching his arm.

The move made him lean down, and she noticed, in the glow of the streetlight, how the pulse hammered in his throat from her simple touch.

“I’m starving,” he said. “You?”

All she could do was nod.

Instead of going back to his own car, Brody crossed around to her passenger door, getting in.

“What about your car?”

“I’ll get it tomorrow, or Brandi can drive it back over. I’ve spent enough time away from you tonight.”

His tone was laced with such intention and emotion, it made her heart leap. Hannah had to focus sharply to keep her attention on the road as she pulled away from the curb.

Her task was made even more difficult when Brody’s hand slipped down over her skin and under her shorts, stroking a tender spot.

“I won’t be able to focus on my driving if you keep that up,” she said on a shaky laugh, wanting him to continue but knowing it wasn’t the best idea.

He smiled, but withdrew his hand. “So pull over. There’s a spot up ahead, on the right.”

Hannah saw it, a narrow road that veered off into trees. She followed it up a sharp hill, where a few seconds later they emerged out on a field that overlooked wetlands that stretched forever into the distance.

“Where are we?” she breathed. “This is gorgeous. It’s magical, how the moon reflects on the water.”

“It’s the far end of Myakka River State Park,” Brody said, but from his tone, she could tell that he wasn’t interested in the view.

It was dark, quiet and private.

Hannah turned the car off, her senses taking over.

She’d never had sex in a car before. So many firsts in one day.

“These front seats aren’t very comfortable,” she said.

“My thought exactly.”

Seconds later, they were in the back of her small car, making out like teenagers, and she was having the time of her life. Again.

Her earlier ideas about riding a motorcycle were forgotten. Hannah knew, as Brody eased her shorts down, that she was never, ever giving up this car.

* * *

B
RODY
HAD
HAD
more
women in the backseats of cars than he could count. As one would expect, it was one of his favorite places to work off some steam, especially after a race.

But Hannah blew his mind. While she’d let him dominate at home in the shower, in the car, she took control, riding him with abandon until, her body racked with release, he’d banded his arms around her and gave in to the pleasure, as well.

It was fast, hot and incredible. He held her there for a long while as their breathing evened, not wanting the moment to pass. Tenderness that he’d never experienced for anyone else before overwhelmed him.

Hannah was so sweet, throwing herself completely into life, giving everything. She thought that she was boring or unadventurous, but of all the things Brody had experienced in life, none of it was as exciting as being with her like this.

Which made him crave more. He’d been around enough to know that it would probably wear off in time, but for now, she was exactly what he needed. And then some.

“Still hungry?” he asked against her ear.

“Absolutely.”

“Vixen. I mean for food.”

She laughed, and that made him happy. He wanted her happy.

“Oh, that. Yes.”

“There’s a twenty-four-hour diner back a mile or two from here, if that’s good.”

“Perfect.”

They untangled their bodies in the cramped space, and fifteen minutes later, they were sliding into a booth.

He hadn’t been to the place for years, but it hadn’t changed much. The red vinyl seats had been updated to newer, shinier red vinyl. Also updated were the tables, stools and counter. Otherwise, it was all the same, including the coin-fed jukeboxes at each table and the racing and other sports memorabilia all over the walls.

Brody got some change for a dollar at the register, and they had fun picking some songs—all of them at least a decade old—before ordering cheeseburgers and fries with milk shakes. It was a heavy midnight meal, but he was always starving after a race, and after sex.

He might as well be a teenager with his first date, he thought, looking at Hannah, her eyes bright. A very horny teenager.

Her color was still high from what had happened in the car, lips red from kissing. He reached over, taking her hand across the table.

“I suppose we should shop for a ring tomorrow,” he said, studying her fingers, pale skin that was only slightly tanned from the Florida sun. He tried to imagine how a ring would look on her slim finger. His ring.

“What? Absolutely not. I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not? People will expect it, and it’s not as though I can’t afford it, Hannah.”