Acres, Natalie - Pole Position [Country Roads 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (5 page)

“If we arrive early enough today, we might enjoy some of the race festivities. Folks in racing tell me the Bristol event is the one to see if you’re new to racing, and we are.”

“We aren’t new to anything,” Brant corrected him, smiling like a man who fucked his way through the morning. “We have a friend in racing and we’ll catch up and say hello. I don’t think we’ll become die-hard fans.”

“Speak for yourself.” A beat later, Colt noted the obvious, “You look like a happy man this morning.”

“I’m a sated man,” he replied with an ounce or two of pride.

“Did Kelly spend the night again?”

“She sure did. I’m starting to believe this thing with Kelly may become a regular thing before long.”

Colt knew better. Kelly wasn’t interested in being shared, and whether Brant realized it or not, he lost interest in women who only wanted one man. He’d seen it happen a time or two since they’d lived together.

“Best of luck to you,” Colt said, meaning every word. “And Kelly, too, of course.”

“You don’t like her?”

“I don’t have a problem with Kelly. I just don’t think it will work out.”

“Thanks. I’ll remember you said that when I’m saying my vows a year from now.”

“So you plan to marry her, do ya?”

“Well how the hell would I know? We’ve only been together for two weeks.”

Colt snickered. For the last twelve years, he and Brant had been roommates. They moved in together while they were trying to help Princess find a suitable home. After a judge awarded a California couple legal custody of Princess, Colt asked Brant to stay. He needed help on the farm and Brant was in financial dire straits. Brant never bounced back from the financial catastrophe he faced after losing a small fortune in the stock market.

“Do you think she knows we’re coming?”

“I doubt it,” Brant replied.

“You don’t think anyone on her racing team would’ve told her we were trying to get a hold of her?”

“Think about that, Colt. Her family owns the racing team. Whoever works in that blasted office probably only relays the messages her parents approve, regardless of how old she is now. Remember, her parents never wanted her to have any contact with us. Her father probably even feared this day would one day come. For whatever reason, they didn’t want us around Princess, and we’ve respected that until now. I don’t think they’ll be jumping for joy if they see us walk back into her life.”

“I just want to know she’s all right. You know, happy. I’ll never understand what that man—her dad—hoped to gain by shutting us out of her life. He adopted her. We were for, not against, the adoption. As far as I know he gave her a good home and yet he wouldn’t allow us to befriend her. I’ll never forgive him for that.”

“The judge thought we were gay,” Brant reminded him.

“And if we had been? Who cares! We wanted the best for a homeless little girl!”

“He thought we were perverts, too, apparently,” Brant said, checking out his hair as he passed by the gold-leafed mirror in the foyer.

“Too bad he never stopped to consider where those rumors were generated. If attorneys and paralegals frequented some of the same underground clubs we visited in Atlanta and Knoxville, one would think they wouldn’t have been so open to casting the first stone!”

“That’s over…” Brant allowed his voice to trail.

“We weren’t in the lifestyle then like we are now.”

“Psht! The hell we weren’t!”

“You know what I mean. It wasn’t like we were stepping out with collars on our subs.”

“True,” Brant said, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. “You about ready to go?”

“Ready when you are,” Colt said, grabbing his luggage. “Oh, hang on. I forgot something.” He disappeared upstairs and returned with a teddy bear.

“Cute,” Brant said. “Think she still sleeps with one of those at twenty-one?”

Colt looked at the stuffed toy and shrugged. “I just want her to have it. I need her to know we always thought of her, always cared about her.” A beat later, he said, “I wonder if she still has those sparkling blue eyes and big dimples.”

“I’m sure she’s still as pretty as a little doll,” Brant said. “It’s still so hard to believe how many years have passed. Princess just had her twenty-first birthday. How many years has it been since we’ve seen her?”

Colt felt that old familiar stabbing sensation in his chest. He swallowed once. “Let’s see, we met her when she was nine. She stayed in foster care a couple of years after the courts removed her from here. The Sterlings adopted her three days before her thirteenth birthday. I haven’t seen her since that day in court.”

Brant looked down at the floor. “I stopped by her high school when I visited my cousin in San Diego. I wanted to make sure she looked okay, like she was happy.”

“And you never told me?”

Brant kept his head bowed. “I know it was wrong. If anyone would’ve spotted me there someone would’ve freaked, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to see her smile. I wanted to be absolutely certain she was happy.”

“I just can’t believe you never mentioned it,” Colt said, feeling betrayed. “Did she?”

“What’s that?”

“Did she look happy?”

“Yeah, Colt. She did. I think the Sterlings gave her a really good life.”

Colt took a deep breath. “Wonder if she’ll be glad to see us?”

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Brant said, stalking the front door.

“You got that right!” Colt exclaimed. “Load up the truck. Let’s go see our Princess.”

* * * *

Downtown Bristol was hopping all afternoon. Race fans gathered in every bar, on every corner, and in many of the eating establishments. The restaurants were packed, so Colt and Brant made their way to a little bar on State Street after they’d walked around visiting various vendors.

After they stood in line, they were finally permitted entry, and it didn’t take them long to figure out why there was such a full house at this particular pub. Wall-to-wall people were whooping and hollering something fierce. Colt stretched his neck and said, “Something’s going on up at the front.”

Nudging through the layers of people, Brant led the way toward the commotion. “Look at that!”

Several blondes were dancing on the bar. One, in particular, caught Colt’s attention right off the bat. “Good God. What do they feed these girls in this part of Tennessee?”

With cut-off denim shorts and plaid halter tops tied in the front, the four gals dancing for the crowd were obviously putting on a show for free, but Colt wondered why they didn’t charge. With bodies like theirs, they could’ve easily danced their way into a whole bunch of money. His gaze worked over the bodies flaunted and held on one in particular.

She was shorter than the rest and possessed a body that wouldn’t quit. Her slender neck pushed up small breasts high enough for show and her tiny waist made a man’s hand itch to place his burning fingers there.

The woman shook her apple-shaped bottom. Her shorts were high enough to reveal the contour of what was scantly covered by the V-shaped front. For some reason, Colt couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.

“We came to the right place!” Brant exclaimed, slapping his money on the bar. One of the gals pranced over his arm, shot him a smile and kept her hips working, which earned her all sorts of praise.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender hollered over the music and chatter.

“Whatever you got on tap,” Colt replied. Brant was too mesmerized to speak.

“We’ve got twenty beers on the hose,” the guy informed them, thinking he was cute.

“Surprise me,” Colt said, turning his back.

When the bartender set two dark beers in front of them, Colt said, “So what is this place? Something like Coyotes?”

The bartender laughed and shook his head. “No. Don’t you read the signs, boy? These girls are drivers.”

“Ah,” Colt said, immediately choking on his first sip of beer.

“You know, stock car drivers.”

Colt gulped with the additional clarification. Brant went pale. Immediately, their eyes scanned the women dancing above them. It didn’t take them but a minute to find which one almost belonged to them.

* * * *

“You can’t just walk up there and yank her off the bar,” Brant told him as soon as they sat down.

“Wanna bet?” Colt said, nursing his beer. He was brewing, and Brant was wasting his breath.

“You’ll scare her to death. Besides, I guarantee you she has her people here.”

“What do you mean?” Colt questioned him.

“She’s probably got an entourage of publicists, managers, and a slew of folks following her around day and night. She’s the hottest rookie driver they’ve ever had in stock car racing. She ain’t here alone, Colt.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Colt grumbled, wondering why he was dealing with such a distorted bunch of emotions.

They watched the girls parade up and down the bar, and the longer Colt stared at the woman he now knew must be Princess, the madder he became. “I’m sure she’s got a boyfriend somewhere in this crowd.” And that fact enraged him a little bit more.

“No, what I mean is that she’s supposed to be one of the best on the track today. She’s worth a whole lot of money to someone. If we go up there and yank her off her pedestal, someone will be around to break our jaws.”

“I don’t care,” Colt said, his eyes following her when the girls jumped off the bar to take what he assumed was probably just a short break. “If she gets back up there, you’ll see how quickly an angel falls from grace.”

Brant shook his head. “You’re acting like her boyfriend instead of the man who saved her from the clutches of homelessness.”

Colt grunted. “That’s the most ridiculous damn thing I’ve ever heard of in my life.”

“Then quit pouting. I, for one, will enjoy the show if those female drivers decide to do a little number again.”

Colt watched the crowd. He wondered if her father knew she was up there marching around like a hooker. He shifted in his seat. “And as a friendly reminder, we did what anyone else would’ve done in our shoes. We discussed this all those years ago. Now, you’re sitting there acting like I’m some kind of pervert.”

“What’s really eating at you?”

“You wanna know the truth?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“I walked in this place, spotted a bunch of hot chicks, picked one out, and was already lusting after her in my blasted head.”

“Uh-oh,” Brant said. “That is a problem.”

“Yep. You get four guesses which one caught my eye, and the first three don’t count.”

Brant finished off his first beer and stood. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Just sit there and chill. I’ll be back in a minute.”

A minute passed and Brant didn’t return. A few minutes more, and Colt was ready to hit the door and get some fresh air. There was something wrong with him. That’s all there was to it. He couldn’t have looked at Princess as anything more than that little girl who won his heart when she invited him to a tea party. Could he?

Chapter Eight

Princess tried to steady her shattering nerves. She looked in the bathroom mirror and attempted to fix her hair. Her hands were shaking so violently that she immediately turned on the faucet and washed them in hopes no one would notice how uneasy she’d become.

“Hey, girl.” Catherine Belton, another rookie driver, came in the restroom about the time she reached for a hand towel. “You okay, honey? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” Princess assured her, checking out her makeup again.

“Did you see those two cowboys who came in during that last song?”

“I saw them,” Princess replied.

Catherine arched her brows. “I say we get a little frisky on those fellas. What’d you say?”

“No,” Princess replied abruptly. “I know them.”

“Are you serious? How about you do a friend a favor and introduce me to the one who looks like a rocker. Good God, I could do maddening things with that man’s hair.”

Princess noticed how red her cheeks became when Catherine implied she’d take Brant to bed. Princess had thought about that a lot since she’d became a woman, and if anyone tangled their fingers through Brant’s hair, it would be her!

“I haven’t seen them in a long time. They’re in their thirties, and if I had to guess, they’re both married.”

“Didn’t see a ring on either one of their hands,” Catherine reported. “And I gotta tell you, the way that tall cowboy looked at you, I don’t think he’s the marrying type, sweetie. His eyes were glued to your ass when you turned around and shook it for the crowd.”

Princess blushed again. This time anger wasn’t the reason she saw the pink in her cheeks when she studied her reflection. She was blushing for a better cause. “You think he was looking at me?”

Catherine fluffed her hair. “Think, hell. That man was lusting after your cute butt.”

“He probably doesn’t remember me, then.” If he did, he surely wouldn’t have been staring at her bottom. She immediately thought of the kind men who’d pulled her away from those cold Kentucky mountains, and her heart swelled with the love she’d always felt for them.