Pace Laps (Racing on the Edge Book 10) (9 page)

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Authors: Shey Stahl

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BOOK: Pace Laps (Racing on the Edge Book 10)
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Our movements turned frantic. Arms, hands and legs flailing around, my knees aching as I searched for angles and our need. As we rocked against each other, the hood creaked with each thrust. Clutching at me, her nails dug into my skin, slipping over my shoulders, moaning and tossing her head back and forth against the hood.

Sway moaned and with one last thrust, I was done, just as the song was coming to an end. The relief and euphoria poured through me in waves as an animalistic growl rang throughout the warehouse, echoing off the walls.

Not sure how much time went by, but eventually we released each other. When I looked at Sway, her eyes were closed, her hands running through my hair.

“Is that what you wanted?” I murmured eventually.

“Exactly what I wanted.” She chuckled.

I tried like hell to enjoy that moment with her afterward, but I couldn’t help myself and my poor car.

“We can get up. It’s not like I need a post-race victory lap or anything.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” I jumped off the hood and hauled her off it too, inspecting every inch for damage.

“Oops, there’s a scratch,” Sway noted, pointing to the center of the hood.

My eyes snapped to where she was pointing.

There wasn’t one.

Reverse Cooling – A method of routing engine coolant to reduce differences in temperature between different parts of the head in the block.

 

Tommy scratched the side of his head, pantless, and rolled onto his stomach on the concrete. It was then he noticed he didn’t have any pants on. “Have you seen my pants?”

“Try Casten’s front yard,” Sway told him looking away from his morning wood as he stood. “That’s where I saw them last.”

Shaking my head, Sway and I walked back inside the house only to find a goat eating out of our fridge. It was no surprise—we had a party last night. It didn’t start out as a party. It never did but then someone shows up to drink or hang out because no one ever hung out at their own fucking house, and before we knew it, the sun was coming up and usually Tommy, Willie or Dave were passed out in our backyard.

“What
is
that?” Sway asked when we were in the kitchen.

I glared at the furry animal in my kitchen. “A fucking goat.”

The damn thing turned around, took one look at Sway and ran up to her rubbing against her like a dog in heat.

Sway looked as if she was ready to nurse the goddamn thing and she hugged it to her side. “Can we keep him? He’s
so
cute.”

“No way.” I picked up my phone. I knew without a doubt Aiden was behind it and that grass-loving motherfucker was going to pay.

I mean, a fucking goat in my house?

“There’s a goat eating lettuce out of my fridge,” I told Aiden when he picked up the phone. “You better run, asshole.”

All I heard was laughter when I ended the call as Casten came walking through the door with Gray on his shoulders eating what looked to be a chocolate donut. “Where’d the donkey come from?” he asked, smiling.

“Fucking Aiden.”

When I turned back around to talk to Sway about what to do with the damn goat, I found her sitting on the floor with it between her legs licking her face. I almost vomited. Straight up bile rising up into my throat. I could taste it.

I started to walk toward them so I could drag the disgusting animal outside and demand, from a distance, that Sway head upstairs and wash the goat slobber off her face. The thought of goat’s saliva on my skin made me want to run, run far away and then scrub my skin raw.

When I was close enough to grab the goat by the neck, it turned and screamed at me while lunging my way. Full on, high-pitched, teenage-girl screamed. Who knew a goat could make that noise? But it could.

“The fuck!” I jumped back, practically on the table, only to have Gray belly laugh at me. Apparently, she thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure if it was the goat screaming, or the fact that I was scared of it entertained her more.

“Jameson!” Sway threw her arms around the goat and pulled it to her as if I was the one trying to kill it, not the other way around. “Stop, you're scaring it.”


I’m
scaring it?” I stared at her in disbelief, scowling. “Are you fucking serious? It just tried to kill me!”

“Oh, it did not.”

“It’s really creepy looking,” Casten noted, keeping his distance.

You would think my wife would side with me, but no, she was stroking this goat like it was her fourth child.

“I really do think we should keep him,” Sway cooed, scratching its head. “I think he’s just a baby. Look at how much he needs me?”

“No, Sway. No fucking way am I keeping that psychotic excuse for a goat.” I shook my head adamantly and even pulled Gray away from it when she tried to feed it her donut. “No way.”

“Well, what do you suggest we do with it then? Because I’m not just going to let you drop it off on some country road by itself to try and survive.”

Gray, who seldom liked anyone, glared at me. “No, Papa.” She stepped closer, only to have it lick the side of her face. That got her upset as she glared offensively at it. How dare it lick her, right? At least I knew she would eventually be on my side.

“Yeah, because dropping a goat off in a field full of grass would be cruel and unusual punishment.” I slid off the table, still keeping my distance with Casten. “It’s their natural habitat, Sway, a field with grass. It’s like hitting the damn lottery for the stupid thing.”

“No. We need to find it a home. Someplace it can feel safe and loved.”

Was she serious? I was thinking she had to be joking, but when I looked at her face, the expression she shot my way told me otherwise. There was no way I was going to win this one.

“Okay. We’ll find it a home,” I eventually said and then whispered to Casten. “When we leave, put it in Spencer’s backyard.”

“Where it’s safe and feels loved?” Sway asked, sticking her bottom lip out.

Sighing, I dropped my head, staring at the ground. Stupid fucking goat. “Yes, honey. A home where it feels safe and loved. Now can I please move the damn thing out of my kitchen?”

“Okay but if you’re going to put it in the backyard, make sure it has plenty of shade and water.”

Casten and I hauled the goat down the street to Spencer’s house that morning before we needed to head to the shop. “I think you guys will still be at it when you’re in your seventies.”

All I could think was Aiden was gonna pay for this shit.

“Probably.”

He laughed when the goat took a shit on my shoe.

I wasn’t laughing one fucking bit.

“ARE YOU SURE you don’t want to stay home this weekend?” I asked Sway when we were ready to leave.

“No. I’m coming with you,” she said without question.

I should have known this wouldn’t slow Sway down, and I also shouldn’t have been surprised when she wanted to come to River Cities with us. In a way, I was banking on her wanting to be there because I had a surprise for her.

Finally, for once, or maybe it had all along, but this sport was giving her something back in return for everything it took from her. I would make sure of it. I would never stop trying to make this easy for her, and show her how much support she had in this place we called home.

From the dusty backstretch to the dry-slick wide sweeping turns, a dirt track was where I met her, and ultimately the place I fell in love. What better way to show her my heart still raced for her, but at the one place she could understand it, a dirt track.

“I will never stop trying to show you how much you mean to me,” I told her before that race, knowing damn well she wouldn’t know what I was talking about. “Now go sit in the stands.”

She looked at me curiously. Sway was always in the pits with me. “Why?”

“Because sometimes it’s fun to have you cheer me on from the stands like you did when we were kids.”

She smiled, the gesture warming her cheeks. “That should be fun.”

I was worried she’d see the paint schemes before we had a chance to show her on the track, but luckily, Arie and Alley had kept her from doing so by making sure she flew to the track with them, and me not letting her in the pits.

Hayden stood at the gate to the ticket booth waiting for Sway with the kids. “Come on already. I can’t contain these little hoodlums forever.”

Sway shook her head. “I think she needs some help.”

Before she could get away, I pulled her in for a kiss. It was more than a standard good-luck kiss. This one had meaning for what I planned to do to her later tonight. Around us, the guys in the pit hooped and hollered, cheering us on.

“Wow,” Sway breathed, shaking her head as she touched her fingers to her pink lips when I drew back.

I slapped her ass as she was walking away. “That’s right.”

Rager approached as I turned to walk back to my car, the faint rumblings of crews putting heat in the engines filling the air. “That was one hell of a good-luck kiss you got there, old man.”

“Fuck off.” I laughed, pushing past him and heading toward the pits.

Rager jogged to catch up to me keeping pace as we approached our cars. “So do you think she has any idea about her surprise?”

“Nah. The girls did a good job at keeping her distracted all day so she never really had a chance to see any of the cars.”

“That’s good.” I turned to face him because it seemed like he had something more to say, but when I looked, his focus was elsewhere. Arie was walking by.

I’d known for a long time there was more to those two than what was being said, but it was a thought for another time. That night was about giving Sway something to smile about and nothing else.

Axel scratched the back of his head as he approached me. “Hey, Dad, so Arie and Casten mentioned doing a concert for Mom. What do you think?”

“Yeah, they may have said something about that.”

“Are you going to?” he pressed, reaching for his helmet.

I thought about it for a while. I didn’t want to, but this wasn’t about me. It was about her. “I don’t want to, but whatever you guys think she’d want, I’ll do. The night needs to be about her.”

For so long, our lives have been in the fast lane. Hell, we were in a different city every night sometimes so slowing down wasn’t exactly easy for us. Cancer changed you emotionally. Everything I had been through or stressed about seemed insignificant.

For years, Sway and I had donated more money to breast cancer awareness than most charities we gave to. Never did I think I’d be so thankful for the research they’ve done and what advances they’ve been able to make in the treatment of breast cancer.

Seeing how cancer ran in her family, I think it was always a fear of Sway’s that eventually she’d be forced to deal with it. For a while, about four years ago, she had told me she wanted to get a mastectomy so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

I, unfortunately, talked her out of it. Couldn’t even tell you why I did at the time. Selfish reasons maybe.

I felt like the biggest piece of shit now and was convinced she’d somehow blame me for this. But that wasn’t Sway. Never would she blame someone else.

My decision to change the paint schemes for all the cars was easy. I did it without thinking. Even my sponsors were all for it once they discovered Sway had breast cancer. The hardest part of all of it was keeping Sway from seeing it because she was so thoroughly involved in every aspect of JAR Racing. Without a doubt, I wanted to make that night at River Cities Speedway special for her. Sure, I would have loved for it to happen at Grays Harbor but with the surgery scheduled soon, I didn’t have time to wait until we were in Elma in September.

For that reason, I had the six JAR Racing sprint cars changed along with the Cup cars for five races. I even had a photograph taken of all of us standing in front of the cars. The cars were all black with a hot pink breast cancer symbol. The roll bars and helmets were hot pink too and made for an interesting look when you had them all on the track at the same time.

I couldn’t see Sway’s reaction to them when she first saw the cars on the track at the same time, but I had Alley record it for me.

I would have given anything to see her face during that four-wide salute because I knew how emotional it was for me right then. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get teary-eyed over it.

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