Turn & Burn (21 page)

“I know, right?” Mom gave us an indignant look.

“You’ve been married, what, four years? Get back to me in twenty-six more,” Francine declared. “I’d take not listening any day over hearing the same old story until I want to scream.”

“Oh, in twenty-six years, I expect to be paroled for his murder.” Mom picked up another photo. “I’m going to have to buy more than I planned. Shelby, you do look happy in every one of these.”

Congratulating myself for asking the Tiptons to stay for the holidays so Mom would have company, I headed for the back room to change out of my dress.

Bet your ass, I look happy. Best. Christmas. Ever. Coming right up.

O
ld Cottonmouth Lane was deserted when I arrived. I pulled the nose to the spray-painted line and turned off the Mustang’s engine. Grabbing the shopping bag off the passenger seat, I examined the things I’d bought after leaving the mall. I ripped the packaging off the first item and adjusted it to size before I slid it under the front seat. The second item wasn’t packaged, so I tucked it between the two bottles of nitrous. 

Rowdy still hadn’t arrived by the time I found a cigarette lighter in the dash and set fire to the trash in the middle of the road. The paper turned to ash in less than a minute. I stomped on the blackened remnants to make sure no embers were still live, then pulled myself onto the trunk to wait.

A loud purr announced Chris’s appearance long before I spied the gleaming black Chevrolet. He put the Monte Carlo on the start line, but cut the engine and got out of the car.

There was something about the way these country boys walked that guys like Robert never managed to pull off. Theirs was a loose-hipped swagger, and when Chris did it, my little heart went pitter-pat. He’d shorn off the riotous ebony curls, but the grin was the one I remembered, sinful and somehow sweet at the same time.

“Well, I hear you just had the best year of your life. Sorry I didn’t know about any of it till I got home for the holidays. I could’ve baked you a cake or something.” I smiled, taking in his red plaid flannel shirt and jeans. A fresh nick on his chin gave away the fact he’d shaved before he came. How considerate—if he expected to lose. The thought made me laugh.

He cocked his head and his eyes dropped to my breasts, but only for a moment. “I dunno if I’d call it the best year of my life. But since Dale’s call, I have hope it might turn out that way yet.”

“There has to be some kind of law against all that sweet-talkin’ bullshit you spout.” I reached for the top button on his shirt and uncrossed my legs. “Rowdy was an uninspired choice. I’d have gone with Shameless, myself, in your shoes.”

His grin grew wider and he stepped between my thighs. Clapping a hand over his heart, he made puppy-dog eyes. “I’m hurt. Actually in pain, because you must’ve forgot just how damn rowdy I can get.”

I didn’t blush. I didn’t smile. “Huh? Who said you could get rowdy?”

“Ouch.” His laugh made me think his big season hadn’t completely gone to his head. “So, what made you decide to bite off more than you can chew today?”

“Oh, you haven’t won yet. And your really fast car’s in mothballs till Valentine’s Day, so I like my odds.”

His eyes flashed. “I like your odds, too.”

I poked him in the chest. “Hey now, don’t let me win this time. I need the workout. I got a big race of my own to get ready for.”

His thick, dark brows rose. “Let you win? I heard somethin’ about that chivalry shit, but when I get behind a start line, the only gender I see is Ford or Chevy. But, if you need a workout, I can oblige.” He pressed a finger to the tip of my nose. “Even if you did cost me the best damn drag race engine I ever had.”

“How did I do that?” I pulled back in order to see his face better.

He looked over my head, as though remembering the night that was burned into my brain. That was the first time I could recall not thinking about the potential disasters that lurked on a dark road and just let the car go so fast I could barely breathe. All I’d had on my mind had been the throb that Caine set off inside me and the thought of what would happen—win or lose—after I crossed the finish line.

“Came out here to put my engine up against Colt’s. Since Caine built ‘em both, I figured it would all come down to the drivin’, right? I did wanna kick Colt’s arrogant ass so bad I could taste it.” He dropped his eyes to my face. “Still do, and looks like I might get my chance pretty soon. I’m gonna run in a few Xfinity series races next season, just to trade paint with him.”

Now, that was a race I’d actually pay to watch.

“Anyway, that night when I showed up, Caine says I gotta race you first, if I want my shot at Colt. I was pissed because who wanted to waste gas racin’ some damn girl? Then Colt shot off his big mouth and said if I lost to you, I should just give the damn engine back. So, I shot
my
big mouth off and said if I lost to their little sister, I’d give Caine the fuckin’ engine.”

He sighed. “And the rest, as they say, is racin’.”

I laughed because I’d learned from Ernie, ‘it’s racin’ was the term racing aficionados used rather than ‘bad luck’ or ‘Murphy’s Law’. And sometimes, it meant that you didn’t know everything you thought you knew when you hit the track.

He shook his head, but boldly bracketed my hips with his hands. “At least the motherfuckers let me run it till the end of the season.”

I should come home more often.
This was my idea of a good time.

I leaned forward, closing the gap between us. “Did Caine also tell you I have to be aroused out of my mind to race worth a damn?”

The look in his eyes made my tummy flutter. “I kinda watched through your windows while he tuned you up. I was a little shocked, since he’s your brother, right, till I found out Dale had just got hitched. Hottest thing I ever saw, to be honest, until you hopped on the hood a minute later. Jesus Christ, I still see that in my mind sometimes. And every time I do, I get a ragin’ boner.” He moved a hand to the back of my head, pulling me forward for his kiss.

The display of masculine confidence sent a jolt of feminine weakness through me. Damn, I loved when a guy knew what he wanted and just went after it. He slid his tongue past my lips and dropped the hand to the small of my back, scooting me across the trunk until the only thing between us was his erection.

Rowdy didn’t waste any time sliding his hands under my shirt. He cupped my breasts, then found my nipples with his thumbs. I let my eyes drift closed as he took control. I locked my fingers together behind his neck and gave in completely to the man’s overwhelming sexual energy.

He broke the kiss. His dark eyes blazed as he studied me. “Can’t decide if I wanna fuck you or take you to lunch.”

“I didn’t come out here looking for a lunch date.”

He chuckled. “That’s the goddamn thing about you, Red. It’s so hot to see a woman admit she just likes to fuck.”

“That’s the goddamn thing about you, Chris. It’s so hot when a man can fuck me so hard, I forget how to talk.”

“Hey, now. I’m startin’ to feel used. I’m serious about takin’ you to lunch. Dinner, Breakfast. I really want to know you better, Shelby.”

I slid my hands to the sides of his face, pulling him forward so I could sink my teeth into his lower lip. He landed a sharp slap on the side of my hip, so I bit him again.

“Do that again and I will jerk those little tights down and spank that ass till it glows.”

“Promise?” I leaned in, and just for fun, sucked his lower lip into my mouth, caressing it with the tip of my tongue. For being such a good girl, he brought his hand between us and searched for my clit through my tights.

When he found the nub, he pressed his thumb to the spot. I was relieved he stopped talking about going out on a date. A minute later, the Rookie of the Year showed off his winning moves by shoving his hands underneath the waistband of my leotards in back.

“Those fuzzy pink leg warmers are cute.”

I didn’t open my eyes, but I let him go and started leaning back. “You can see ‘em better if I wrap my legs around your neck.”

He gripped my thighs. “Oh, nice try, woman. I hear, in your family, you gotta win to get head.”

The crunch of tires drew my attention to the road. I froze. “Don’t look now, but that’s a county cop.”

Chris dropped his forehead to my shoulder. “Fuck me. His timing sucks.”

My heart stuttered when the light bar on top of the car started churning. A moment later, the door on the cruiser opened and Mack Brown heaved his corpulent frame from behind the wheel. The wide brim of his hat shaded his face. Mirrored shades covered his eyes, but I felt his stare.

Leaning an arm on the top of his open car door, he drawled. “Now, why in tarnation would Shelby Roberts have her brother’s dragster parked on the wrong side of the road? Looks like I got here in time to see the race.”

“Hard to confiscate a parked car.” I forced a smile.

“Not that hard.” The sheriff’s tone implied he could do it and make it stick. “How about you step into my office while I radio for some assistance?” He didn’t phrase the words as a request. I stared, wondering if he could possibly be serious.

I hesitated so long, Mack jerked a thumb toward the passenger side of his cruiser.

“Motherfucker,” Rowdy muttered. “I don’t even like Colt, but this is some bullshit. He’s sunk a fortune into this car.”

The sun glinted off the star pinned to the front of Mack’s khaki shirt and I realized how foolhardy I’d been to threaten this man. I doubted he kept getting re-elected because he was such a great policeman. He probably knew some dirt on everyone. Wasn’t that how the real world worked?

“Don’t leave me out here alone with him, okay?” I forced the whisper past the knot in my throat. With a nod, Rowdy stepped aside. I jumped off the trunk and sauntered the few steps to the police car, refusing to let Mack see my fear. Was it just this morning that I’d had the thought that I’d do this guy again to save Caroline’s car?

No matter what, I wasn’t fucking Mack Brown to save Colt’s car. I reluctantly got into the passenger seat of the cruiser. The wire cage behind my head made my blood pound in terror. I was a fool to come back out here. I clenched my hands together in my lap so he wouldn’t see how they trembled.

Mack wedged his frame behind the wheel and slammed his door. I left mine open, wishing like hell I’d worn something besides a sweatshirt that barely covered my ass.

He leaned forward to grab the microphone off his radio. “I talked to Gerald. He denied ever seein’ you that day.” I eyed the small speaker device, noting he didn’t put his finger on the button that would connect him to the dispatcher. Was he taking Colt’s car, or telling me about his investigation? Or just toying with me by reminding me I’d had the nerve to yank his chain?

I dragged my tongue across dry lips. “What day?”

His head bobbed, but he still stared straight ahead. “Exactly. Most criminals ain’t as smart as they like to think. That’s the kind of slip that guilty folk make all the time. So, he admitted he talked to you while he was tryin’ to deny it ever happened. Tells me somethin’s up. But he won’t talk about what was said, and I got no way to force him to open up.”

I nodded, trying to decide whether or not to admit that Gerald had told me a new version of the tale. I decided against sharing that tidbit. If Gerald was lying, I’d know before midnight.

My heart fell when Mack raised the mic to his lips and pressed that damn button. “County one to base, come back. Officer needs a 10-13 out on Old Cottonmouth Road.” He released the talk button.

Sweat stung my underarms. Was the asshole really calling for a wrecker? I could barely decipher the gibberish from the radio for all the static.

Mack slammed the button down again. “I need a maintenance crew with barricades dispatched immediately. Gotta shut down both lanes.”

When my mouth fell open, he gave me a stone-faced stare. “Can’t have no cars fallin’ into them big old sinkholes, now can we?”

I darted a look at Rowdy, who glanced at his watch. “What sinkholes?”

The radio squawked a lot more static and some gibberish. Mack barked, “Copy that,” and returned the mic to its hook on the side of the radio, still staring straight ahead. “Word on the street is, you and Kolby Barnes gonna have a little drag race the day after Christmas.”

My tongue seemed glued to the roof of my mouth. “But not here. Out at the fairgrounds.”

“Don’t mind tellin’ ya, it’d do my heart good to see you take that prick’s fancy car.”

I blinked.

“So, I reckon Rowdy’s here to help out, but don’t race till I get the road closed. I ain’t in the mood to scrape nobody off the pavement when some family in a minivan comes to visit their Aunt Irene for Christmas and takes a wrong damn turn, only to meet you head-on doin’ one-fifty in a thirty-five mile-an-hour zone. You kids never think of the goddamn consequences.”

It took me a minute to realize what he was saying. Another minute to find my voice. “That’s incredibly cool of you.” He tipped his head, but still didn’t meet my eyes.

“I’ll just be making out with Rowdy till then.” I put a foot on the ground. The thrill of dodging this particular bullet went to my head. “Hey, you want his autograph? I hear he was Rookie of the Year.”