Dirty Looks (Dirt Track Dogs: The Second Lap Book 1) (4 page)

“I’ll feed her whatever she likes. But I’m wondering, you drinking asshole juice over there, or what?” Rod asked, squinting. “Cuz your attitude’s shitty.”

Adam actually grinned. Microscopic, but it was there nonetheless. “Could be why this tastes so bad.” He tipped his head back for another swallow.

Suddenly, the door to the bar burst open, swinging so hard on its hinges it slammed against the wall with a resounding
thwack
that stopped all the chatter. In the doorway stood a tall, wiry woman whose expression flickered between anguished and panicked. Her platinum blond hair was piled high on her head in some kind of floppy bun. She wore jeans and a bright peach tube top that at first glance gave the impression she was naked from the waist up.

“May I have your attention please,” she called loud and clear. “First fella who directs me to the ladies room gets to hold my hand and buy me a drink. And I’m looking for some quick results here, boys, ‘cause… mama’s gotta
go
. As in capital G capital O, add an exclamation point.” She squirmed, shifting from foot to foot in a pee-pee dance that could rival a toddler’s. “Make that three exclamation points.”

A dozen male hands pointed toward the back of the bar where a hefty neon sign read
Restrooms
.

Her thin shoulders sank in a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank you sweet baby Jesus in a manger.” And then a look of determination hardened her face. Like she was preparing for a treacherous journey and might not make it to the other side. As she picked her way through the crowd muttering, “Gottapee gottapee gottapee,” Aaron imagined Chariots of Fire playing with epic flair.

She gracefully side-stepped bodies and hopped over booted feet, using a stray chair once when a big guy didn’t move fast enough and she was forced to climb over him, all while holding her hand between her legs like that might help keep her from leaking.

The entire bar was invested in her struggle because when she finally reached the bathroom door and gave them all a thumbs-up high in the air, the place erupted in a raucous cheer.

As the noise died down to the normal bar buzz, Aaron turned back to say something to the guys, but stopped with his mouth half open when his gaze landed on the doorway. Four more women stood, each looking oddly out of place in the packed bar. They dressed the part: jeans, tank tops, and fuck-me lips. But something about their eyes, the expression on their face, the way they appeared to be hunting prey instead of a cold brew… it told him they weren’t from around here.

One stood out from the rest. She remained slightly in front of the others, which implied she was in charge. But she could’ve been buried under a pile of napkins and nutshells that littered the place and he still would have noticed her.

It was her eyes. They were a pale green, with an otherworldly sparkle he could see all the way across the room. Wide and bright on a heart-shaped face.

His instincts roared to life inside, urging him to… do something.

Dark mahogany hair tumbled from her crown and pooled around her shoulders, long strands of it getting caught where her shirt stretched across her tits and even longer pieces that flowed on to dance with her waist. Her full pink lips were pursed in sexy contemplation while she scanned the bar, seemingly oblivious to the gawking patrons.

“Well, fuck a duck and call me stupid,” Rod murmured. “Look at that.”

He sounded like he was practically drooling, but Aaron couldn’t pull his eyes away from the brunette to check.

“I call dibs on… well, fuck… none of ‘em I guess. I’ll be too tossed after I finish these beers.”

“Stop drinking then,” Adam said, fidgeting like ants were crawling his legs.

“Can’t.” Rod shook his head. “I made a deal with myself to wake up with a hangover in the morning. And you know I don’t go back on my word.”

“Your liver thanks you.”

“I know right?” He leaned back just enough to pat the lower right side of his abdomen. “I call it tough love.”

The brunette and her group moved toward the bar, several regulars gladly giving up their stools to accommodate them.

“Shiiit,” Rider drawled, knocking back the rest of his drink.

Aaron ripped his gaze away from the woman to see his friend staring darkly at the bar. “What is it?”

“That’s them.”

“Who?”

“The bike team my uncle told me ‘bout. That one right there is wearing a motocross tank.”

Aaron spotted the one he was referring to. She had long dirty blond hair and oozed confidence. The kind of woman who knew what she wanted and always got it. And then probably ate the man alive like a black widow when she was done.

Adam frowned, his glare cutting into Rider. Damn, the term
bitter old man
came to mind. “Bike team?”

“They’ll be there Saturday, at the track.”

“Wa-wa-wa-wait jus a goddamn minute here,” Rod sputtered. “Waldo’s letting ‘em motocross?”

“Flat track for now,” Rider explained. “Thinks it’ll bring in fresh business.”

“Yeah, and they’re hot. So. Babes on bikes? Shit yeah, that’ll draw a crowd. Yer uncle’s a smart bizness man.”

Aaron glanced back to the bar, his mind swirling with information. What he knew, what his instincts told him, mixing with what Rider had added.

Just then, Annie came through the kitchen door wiping her hands on a towel and smiling big at the brunette that made his heart pound for more reasons than one. Words were exchanged and then Annie glanced at Punk, her expression pinched.

Because she’d just learned what Aaron knew the second he’d laid eyes on the women.

They were shifters.

Chapter Four

“What are you drinking?” the small blond who seemed to run things around here asked. But Lexington just stared at her, because she hadn’t answered the question. How could they contact the Dirt Track Dogs?

“She’ll have a Pink Malibu,” Seraphina said sweetly. “And I’ll take a water if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.” The woman smiled, and even though Lexington’s question had caught her off guard, her expression was genuine. “Anything for the rest of you?”

“Nothing,” Ragan murmured.

“Yep,” Sally said. “Give me some Jack. Straight up.”

The woman nodded. Annie was her name, and she was supposedly mated to one of the dogs but had yet to confirm it. “Coming right up.”

There was a bit of bustle at the end of the bar near the restrooms, and then Barb’s voice piped up. “Aw, now. You sly dog. You ain’t playing fair. See, there wasn’t a winner really, since I spotted no fewer than ten lucky hands pointing this direction. But I sure do thank ya kindly.”

She giggled, and then slid past the beefy hunk-o-manmeat to join them at the bar.

“Whewy, that was a close one, girls. Hashtag almost oopsie.” She went up on her toes to get a good look at the top shelf offerings. “Y’all order already?”

“We’re not exactly here to party,” Ragan reminded. “We need to get back to the motel. Mac will be pacing the halls.”

“Loosen up,
mom
,” Sally smirked. “It won’t do any harm to have a little fun. Besides…” She scanned the bar like a true huntress, and a sly smile slanted one side of her face. “I see some possibilities that are registering ten-point-oh on the Dick-ter scale.”

Seraphina frowned, her tiny brows pushing so close together they looked like one. “What’s a Dick-ter scale?”

“Mmm.” Sally nodded. “It’s my way of measuring how hard a man can make me quake using what’s in his pants. It’s very scientific,” she sniffed.

Barb snorted.

Seraphina blinked. “Ahhh. I see. Ten-point-oh. Like an earthquake.”

“Yeah, see,” Sally continued. “That guy over there by the pool table? He’s maybe… a six. But even science is wrong sometimes. I might get him underneath me, get a nice ride going, only to be flipped on my back, pounded soundly, hair pulled, and then
wheeeew
…” she fanned her face. “He rocks my world and becomes a ten.”

“Just like that, huh?” Lexington said wryly.

Sally grinned. “Earthquakes happen fast, baby.”

“It’s true,” Barb said, popping a handful of nuts in her mouth. “Blink of an eye. Better watch out, Sally. You might find a rare eleven when you’re not looking.”

Sally snorted and leaned her elbows on the bar. “There’s no such thing as an eleven.”

Annie returned with their drinks, adding Barb’s coconut tequila to the mix in a jiffy.

“Alright, ladies,” she said, looking only a touch uncomfortable. “Can I ask where you’re from?”

“We’re ramblers,” Ragan answered. “We move around. But we’re here for the race Saturday.”

“Not
for
the race,” Lexington said. “We’re here
to
race.” Needed to clear that up so Annie didn’t mistake them for groupies. Fangirling was all fine and good. There was a time and place for that. But they were here for business.

Annie’s eyebrows shot up. “You race? All of you?”

“Yep,” Barb said, downing her shot.

“Ahhhh, okay.” She nodded, looking relieved, her smile growing from pleasant to cheerful. “You were asking about the DTD because you need a place to store your cars, right? Or help with tune-ups? Brush downs?”

Lexington looked away and opened her mouth to answer, but her eyes caught on something that emptied the breath from her lungs. Across the room, a blond haired giant sat at a table with his friends. Even though she could only see him from the waist up, she could tell how muscular he was by the way his gray t-shirt stretched precariously around his thick neck and biceps. His fists were clenched tight on the top of the table while his friends chattered and chugged their drinks. His deep-sea eyes and his hard cut jaw could be the stuff that made females drool except…

He was… he was
glaring
at her.

Lexington glanced away to see if there was anyone else he could be shooting daggers at, but no. It was her. And even as she met his gaze head-on, the behemoth didn’t look away. His full, kissable lips twisted up in a threatening snarl even as his eyes narrowed. Like he was seeking out her vulnerabilities so he could take full advantage of them.

He was… an
enemy
.

For some reason, the information lodged in her chest right above her heart and made it difficult to breathe and impossible to swallow. She’d made an enemy already and she’d only been in Red Cap ten minutes. And it seemed such a damn shame for that enemy to be him. It made her fox sad.

Lexington forced her gaze away and cleared her throat. “Something like that,” she told Annie. “Do you think you could put us in touch with the alpha?”

Annie eyed them, her mouth pursed. “Something tells me I could like you. Y’all aren’t trouble are ya?”

“Naw, honey,” Barb drawled, her gaze scoping the bar. “Not unless you count having fun as trouble.”

“Yeah, I mean, trouble comes in two categories,” Sally said. “The dance on the pool table while sipping whiskey kind, and the eat your face off kind.”

“We’re the first kind,” Seraphina clarified, nodding.

Annie gave a short laugh that cut off when she glanced past Lexington’s shoulder. But there was only a second to wonder what had the female pausing. Lexington’s fox became acutely aware of the presence behind her. She shivered and tensed, trying to tamp down her animal’s excitement, but her vixen was doing the prancy-dance all over her insides like she was about to take a header into a foxhole.

“There a problem here?” The voice was low and quiet, but not smooth. It was jagged, hot lava over serrated rocks. The big blond who’d been glaring at her pushed his way between her and Barb, leaning sideways against the counter. His stance implied he was trying to defend what was behind the bar. Specifically Annie.

“Ex-skeeee-use you,” Barb said, tossing him a dirty look he didn’t see.

He glared down at Lexington in a way that made her fox want to cower. Which was odd because she wasn’t typically submissive. Most especially not to a human. And her senses told her that’s exactly what he was. She scented no animal on him. Just clean skin, and some kind of woodsy cologne that made her want to lick him.

“There’s no problem, Aaron,” Annie said with a sweet smile that was obviously covering clenched teeth.

He ignored her and narrowed his eyes on Lexington. “What do you want?”

She cleared her throat—twice—before she felt confident her voice wouldn’t come out all wispy.

“That’s a broad question. Can you narrow it down? What do I want this minute? Or out of life? Or what do I want to do for the weekend? What do I want to eat? Or…” She took a breath, shrugging one shoulder. “The possibilities are endless really.”

His eyebrows pulled back and that was the first time she’d seen anything other than a scowl on his face. The temporary change had her tummy squirming with all kinds of new feelings. His eyes roamed curiously all over her face and then he ground out, “Why are you here?”

Lexington took a sip of her drink for fortification.

“Again, a very broad question. Why am I here in this town? Or in this bar? Or for a more existential meaning, why am I on this planet? Why am I among the seven billion people who populate earth? Well, actually, that one’s easy. See, when two people love each other, they come together and do a special dance. And if they’re lucky, that dance makes a baby. Nine months later, bam, Lexington meets the world.” She ended with another swallow, and heard Sally snickering to her right.

For the first time, Aaron glanced away, his jaw ticking with the beat of her heart. “What do you want with my sister?”

Sister? He must be referring to Annie.

Lexington glanced at the woman and then back to him. Yes, they had the same blue eyes. Her face was rounder where his was all harsh edges. And his hair wasn’t long enough to tell if it hid curls or not, but it was nearly the same shade.

“We’re just making friends is all,” Barb groused. “Why are you so barky?”

“Everything’s fine,” Annie said. “They’re here to see DTD. I was just pointing them in Drake’s direction.”

Drake. The wolf pack’s alpha. Except Annie hadn’t exactly told them how to find Drake yet. Short of rolling up on the property unannounced, they had no way of contacting him. And Lexington knew how dangerous it could be to land in territory that didn’t belong to you.

Aaron stared back at her, clearly not satisfied with the answer. “What do you want with DTD?”

“Come on Aaron,” Annie grinned, reaching across the counter to shove him playfully on the shoulder. “They’re here for the race Saturday. They just need some place to park their cars.”

“Bikes,” Aaron rumbled, not taking his eyes off Lexington.

Annie frowned. “Huh?”

“They do dirt bikes, not cars. Rider told me.”

“Rider?” Sally piped up. “Who’s Rider?”

“Rider Daley. His uncle owns the track.” Annie said, pouring her a new drink.

“Wait, is that his real name? Rider Daley?” Sally slammed back the last of her whiskey and reached for the fresh one.

“Mm hm,” Annie answered.

“Rider Daley.
Ride her daily?
” Seraphina whispered, and Barb laughed so hard she snorted unapologetically.

“Tell me that was on purpose,” Sally smirked. “Tell me his parents knew what they were doing when they named him that. Seriously. I need to know.”

“He doesn’t have any parents,” Aaron gritted. “Just Waldo.”

The girls sobered. They knew what it was like to have no family. They’d left everything behind when they ran from their people all those years ago. When Ragan was fresh from delivering Kit and they were determined not to end up like her, beaten and broken by a male that didn’t care about her.

“They didn’t mean any harm,” Lexington said carefully, resisting the urge to rest her hand on Aaron’s forearm where it was tensed against the bar, ending in a clenched fist. He was strung so tight, she wondered what a male like him was even doing in a place like this. Red Cap seemed to be the let-loose of the town. The casual epicenter of tiny little Cedar Valley. But how was anyone supposed to have fun with him acting like the lit fuse of a round of dynamite?

“Well, somebody named him,” Sally muttered, her mouth low to her glass.

Lexington glanced at Annie. She had her lips pressed together in a thin line, but her eyes were a tad apologetic. The way a person looks when they’re watching someone crash and burn socially. A shade away from pity.

The vixens weren’t making a good impression.

Lexington sighed. “Look, if you’ll just point us in the right direction, we’ll be on our way.”

There’d be time to win over the locals later. On the track. Right now, she needed to announce herself to the alpha and hope like hell he didn’t run them out of town.

Annie opened her mouth to speak, but Aaron beat her to it.

“I’ll take you.”

Lexington swung her head around, surprised at his words. She could feel her eyes growing wide, and his mirroring hers. It took her a full second or two to realize what he meant, and it wasn’t just because her fox had a dirty mind.
I’ll take you
. It had sounded like… like… a
claim
. But of course that was crazy. The man was simply offering to show her the way to the Dirt Track Dogs’ clubhouse.

Barb’s voice cut through the pounding of her heartbeat in her eardrums. “But I’m not ready to leave yet.”

“Ditto on that,” Sally added.

“Good,” Aaron said. “Because there’s only room in my truck for one.”

“One?” Ragan spoke up, taking a step closer to Lexington. “You’re not going by yourself, Lex.”

“She won’t be by herself,” he sneered, and Ragan shot him a glare so feral, Lexington was sure he saw her animal’s eyes.

Lexington whispered, “Stand down,” and Ragan looked at her suspiciously. “Stand. Down.”

She rose from her stool and faced Aaron, straightening her shoulders. “I’ll take you up on that offer, cowboy.”

“Wait, Aaron,” Annie said, her eyes going shifty. “Do you… do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, they won’t be expecting…
you
.”

“It’s fine.” His jaw flicked again, and Lexington felt even more uneasy about meeting the alpha.

“But…” Annie was practically wringing her hands. “Are you sure. Why don’t you just let me call Blister or one of the boys down here?”

Aaron’s mouth quirked upward ever so slightly, and his eyes softened as he glanced at his sister. For the first time, Lexington could see past his hard façade. Whatever made the blond giant so angry, she didn’t know. But for his sake, she hoped he found a way to let it go. Otherwise he was probably going to need surgery to help unwad his panties. It could get ugly.