Clutched (Wild Riders) (14 page)

Babe?

Was it a slip of the tongue? Couldn't have been. I looked up at him with a questioning look. I thought about asking him about it—the meaning, the context—but the simple word seemed so natural coming off his lips that I didn't want to let anything ruin the moment. I'd just rode the best I ever had. I was in his arms. He was looking at me like he actually saw me. It was perfect.

“Thank you,” I said. “I couldn't have done it without you.” He gave me that look. The one that he gave every time anyone complimented him. Like it almost pained him to take it.

“You're the rider.”

“Yeah, but you're the one who made me better. You helped me. I mean it...” I paused. “You're pretty amazing too, Hoyt.” I didn’t think he realized exactly how much confidence I felt after he’d said that. Maybe I could return the favor.

Neither of us spoke for several moments. Both of us were grinning like idiots. Genuine happiness and excitement filled the space between us. I wanted to celebrate this moment with him. I wanted to feel his lips on mine. I saw his eyes quickly scan the room. We were alone. Everyone else was too busy with all of the excitement on the track that it was just us. At least for a moment.

First our foreheads touched, then our noses, then finally... our lips. It was a soft kiss. Nothing like the first. It was sweet and simple. Something that we'd yet to be. Something that I was enjoying immensely. My breathing was slow and steady now as our lips lingered. Who knew something as innocent as this little peck could mean more to me than anything that had happened before?

“This is real sweet,” a voice called out.

So much for being alone.

It was a voice that I'd tried to forget the sound of. You'd think that only seeing someone a handful of times in your entire life you'd forget what their voice sounded like. “You going to introduce your boyfriend to your old man or what?”

Hoyt and I put space between us as quickly as we'd taken it away. I let my eyes fall on my father for the first time in almost a decade. He looked the same. His dark hair had become a bit more peppered with sliver. His eyes were more tired than I remembered them being. One of the side effects of living life on the edge. After he'd hurt his back and been forced to quit motocross, he'd taken up gambling. Last I knew he was living in Vegas and in a poker room every night of the week.

“That wasn't what it looked like,” I said. I looked at Hoyt who was just as concerned about us finally being caught doing something we shouldn't be doing. “We were just... it was....”

“Don't worry about it,” Rick said. “If you knew how many times I'd been caught kissing someone I shouldn't you'd die.” He laughed. The boisterous tone of his voice had been tainted by years of drinking and smoking. That fall off the podium was definitely starting to wear on him.

“That's what mom said,” I snapped. That little anecdote wasn't going to work on me. I knew what happened between him and my mom. I knew that she'd walked in on him with other women. A few times. It took her a little while to finally learn that he wasn't going to change before she kicked him out. She'd only meant for him to leave our house, not my life. But, I was better off without him.

“I'm Hoyt Travers,” he held out a hand to my father, trying to stop the tension from building any thicker. Rick didn't take it. “I'm Chayse's riding coach.”

“McCades don't need riding coaches,” Rick said with a smirk. “It's in our blood. You saw her out there today. She's a natural.”

“She is,” Hoyt agreed. I could see the vein in his neck throb. The one that he usually saved for when I was doing something he didn't agree with. Apparently, the McCade DNA could do that. “It was nice of you to come see your daughter ride today.”

It was?

I hadn't spoken to my dad in years. I couldn't have cared less if he was there or not. The knot in my stomach—the same one that I always had when I saw him—was threatening to uncoil and unleash years of tears and anger that I kept bottled up. I did my best to reel it back and keep it where it belonged. No good would ever come of wasting a breath on that man.

“This is a paying gig, son,” he said to Hoyt. “In fact, that fancy energy drink company is offering me a boatload to show up at events. But yeah, I guess it was good to see my girl ride. I always wondered if she was any good.”

That made much more sense. Of course he'd show up if he was offered money. I was never enough to get him to be anywhere—birthday, Christmases, Father-Daughter dances. Nope. Rick McCade only showed up for two things: money and motocross.

“I'm not your girl,” I quickly reminded him. I looked to Hoyt for a little support. His shoulders were back like he was ready to pounce if I gave him the go ahead. The warmth of knowing he was there for me mingled in with the anger I felt toward my father. “Well, thanks stopping by, Rick,” I told him. “Glad to know you at least remember what I look like. I'll see you in a decade or so.” I walked away from him, just like he'd done to me without a look back. Nick Pilsner was going to be hearing all about this. I'd follow Throttled rules. I'd ride whatever bike they wanted me to. I'd wear whatever gear they put in front of me. Hell, I'd even stop myself from having feelings for Hoyt. But, I would not—I. Would. Not.—use my father to further my career. If Rick McCade was going to be showing up at my races, I'd quit.

* * *

“W
hat the fuck, Nick?” I said when I found him in the tent where I was supposed to be signing autographs with Reid and Brett. Luckily, the fans were so enamored with Throttled's A-List that they didn't notice or hear me.

“Excuse me?” Nick said, grabbing my arm and pulling from the tent. He walked us over to a quiet spot—away from prying eyes with a look on his face that said I'd crossed a line. I didn't care. He'd crossed a big line with me. “You can't talk to me like that.”

“I can when you've decided that my father being here is good for my career,” I argued. “You didn't even let me know that he was coming. It was a dick move and you know it. And, you promised that my father had nothing to do with my career at Throttled,” I reminded him.

“It was the right move,” he said. “This is a business, Chayse. It's my job to sell tickets. To put asses in seats,” he said pointedly. “It's your job to ride a bike.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing.” He leaned in. I could see the pupils dilate as he spoke. “You work for Throttled. I decide what is and isn't a good idea. Are we clear?”

I hesitated. “Yes,” I said quietly. It was plain and clear. Nick didn't give a shit about me. It was about money and what would generate the most buzz on race day. I guess that meant Rick McCade being in the stands. “I quit then.” I wasn't going to let him order me around.

He laughed.

“I mean it.”

“Read the contract,” he said. “You can't quit. You're Throttled property for the next year. You want out, you'll have to sue us.”

“I will,” I argued.

“With what? A pretty smile? I don't think so. Now get out of here before a fan sees you having a temper tantrum. We can talk about this later.” He walked back into the tent and left me standing there. I wanted to scream and cry and punch him in the face for putting me in this position.

“Come on,” Hoyt said, slipping his hand in to mine.

“Did you hear all that?”

“I did,” he said. “I figured it was best to let you two hash it out alone. I've never seen him be such a dick.”

“Yeah. Who knew?” Nick had always seemed like he was looking out for me. “Better to know now where his loyalties lie,” I said. Feeling Hoyt's hand in mine was definitely soothing. By the time he'd walked me back to my trailer my tears were gone. My heart was still racing, but I was at least able to speak. “He could have at least talked to me about inviting Rick here.”

“You can't let it bother you,” Hoyt said as he sat down in one of the lawn chairs in front of my place. There were two so I joined him. “You did so great today. We need to do whatever it takes to keep your head in the game.”

“I know. I just really hate my dad.”

“I can understand why,” he said with laugh. “The guy's a real piece of work.”

“Yep.”

“I'll make sure he doesn't bother you at races. Even if I have to kick his ass out of there myself.”

“Thank you,” I said, turning to him. When he wasn't telling me all the things I was doing wrong he actually said all the right things. Knowing that he had my back as far as my father was concerned was comforting. I placed my hand on his knee. “You've been so great today.”

“Just today?” he teased. “I thought I was great every day?”

“Five out of seven.” I smiled.

“Not too bad.” He laughed.

A yawn tore from my lips. I stretched my arms up, feeling the entire day in every one of my muscles. “I'm ready for a shower and bed. This day has been absolutely draining.”

“I hear ya,” he said. We both stood and found ourselves face to face for the second time that night. The first time had ended in a kiss. Another one would have felt just as good right about now.

“I mean... unless you want to come in for bit,” I said. I held my breath as I waited for his answer. I was tired and I was frustrated. The truth was I really didn't want to be alone tonight.

Hoyt leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead. I breathed him in, letting the cool smell of him soothe the tension from my body.

“Head in the game,” he reminded as he pulled away. “Good night, Chayse.”

“Good night,” I said as I watched him walk away.

“T
hanks for meeting me,” I told Nick as I slid into the booth at the small diner. I figured it was better to meet somewhere away from Mill Valley, especially after Chayse and Nick had had words over her father's sudden appearance. I wanted to go over his expectations for Chayse's season. For the next month she'd be racing every weekend. Not to mention all of the PR nonsense I was sure he'd have scheduled for her.

“No problem,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about Chayse's little outburst last night and make sure you had a handle on her.” The waitress stopped to take our drink orders before I had a chance to clarify that no one
handled
Chayse McCade.

“About that,” I said when the waitress left. “I'm not sure if it's a good idea to pay Rick McCade to attend events.”

“Why is that?” he said, not looking up from the menu laid out in front of him.

“He's a distraction,” I explained. “They aren't close. They don't get along. He being there forces her to remember a part of her life that she doesn't want to revisit. Her feelings were really hurt that you didn't even bother to ask her how she felt about having him there.” The pained look on Chayse's face when she saw her father standing there immediately had me picturing her as a child waiting on the steps for her father to come home. I saw all of the holidays she spent without him. I saw her turn it all into anger and resentment that she didn't need weighing her down. There were years of disappointment written all over her face.

“You telling me this as her coach or as her boyfriend?”

I nearly choked on my first drink from the Coke that the waitress had just sat down.

“As her coach,” I assured him.

“Sure sounds like you're thinking with your dick instead of your brain. Her feelings shouldn't be your concern. You need to worry about how she performs on race day, not in the bedroom,” he said with a chuckle. “I mean, I get it. I wouldn't mind taking her for a spin myself, but that would be a direct violation of our company’s policy. It’d be a damn shame to see you piss away this opportunity,” he paused. “Right?”

“Of course,” I told him. “The only reason I'm bringing this up is as her coach. I want her head to be clear on race days. I don't want her to have to deal with her father being there.” I waited until he was looking me in the eye. “There's nothing going on between Chayse and me.”

“You sure about that?” He sat back in the booth.

“Positive,” I lied. What else could I do? The man who held my fate—and hers—in his hands was giving me a not-so-friendly reminder of what would happen if Chayse and I ever did cross the line.

“Let's keep it that way,” he said. “And I'll limit the number of events that Rick is at if you think it's necessary. The higher ups like the whole father/daughter angle and think it will make for good publicity. Especially if we can get a few pics of the two of them getting along. Maybe work on that. Get her to give her father a second chance,” he grinned as he said it. “They would love a second chance relationship spin on that,” referring to the news outlets. Exactly what Chayse would hate. She was not
30 for 30
material.

“I'll see what I can do,” I told him. I would do nothing of the sort, but he didn't need to know that. I wasn't about to force Chayse to have anything to do with her dad.

* * *

L
uckily for Chayse, her race schedule had her on the east coast for the next month. Throttled might have been willing to pay Rick to be at her races, but they were not about to cover airfare and hotels for the next thirty days. She was free and clear of her father for at least another month until the races were back within driving distance from Vegas.

As for me, I made sure to keep the proper amount of distance between us while we were on the road. Chayse was flying to events and I was driving. At least with thirty-five thousand feet between us we couldn't be tempted to break the rules. I did everything I was supposed to do for her as a coach and spent the rest of my time keeping to myself. Every now and then I'd see a hint of disappointment on her face when I didn't join her and the rest of the crew for dinner or a celebratory drink after a race, but I think she got it. Nick was keeping her plenty busy in between races. Interviews and PR appearances for his newest it girl. Time seemed to speed along with no room for any down time. Between the craziness of our schedules and the holidays, we didn’t have a moment to spare.

In all honesty, the hectic schedules we were keeping was better for both of us. It limited our time alone and let us both get our minds right when it came to each other. A couple little slips ups were not going to jeopardize what we had going with Throttled.