Cold Pits – This is when there is no racing activity on the track, and the pits are open to people other than team members and racing officials.
As the off-season progressed, testing and sponsorship commitments crushed me to the point where I was physically exhausted. Having never really been one who got sick... well, I had one hell of a cold that I was sure had turned into pneumonia by the time early February rolled around.
While hacking up my spleen, I made my way into my office at Grays Harbor. It seemed I still suffered from problems with my lungs and was susceptible to pneumonia.
Mallory found me before I wanted her to. “Jameson, we really need to take care of this.”
I nodded. Nodding was all I could do these days. I just didn’t have time for any of this. Too much responsibility led to me having too much on my mind.
We had schedules to finalize for the season, get the insurance policies in order, and line up track promoters for the events. This might seem simple, but it wasn’t. Track promoters were constantly trying to swing their own deals, and sponsors for events wanted everything under the sun.
For the last nine hours I’d been at the track with Axel and Casten, and I was ready to go home. I loved my kids, but I could only handle them for so long. I could only handle anyone for so long before my patience wore thin.
Currently Axel and Casten were watering the track with Spencer. The only problem with this situation was that the boys were helping by attaching inner tubes to the back of the truck with a rope.
They were water skiing in mud.
“Idiots,” I muttered to myself, glancing back at the mountain of paperwork. One of them was sure to get hurt so long as Spencer was driving. Pouring myself a glass of whiskey, I had to laugh because there were many times when Sway and I did this when we were growing up. Our spaz children weren’t much different.
Sighing deeply, I began looking through everything while sipping my much-needed drink. It was overwhelming, and if Mallory hadn’t been there, I probably would have given up by now. I couldn’t thank her, Andrea, and Jen enough for all the work they did keeping Grays Harbor running. Even though I couldn’t be there as much as I wanted, I had absolutely no intention of selling.
Shortly before eight that night, Andrea came in the office with Macy following behind her. “Hey, Jameson, we are leaving for the night. Sway called and asked that you come home.”
I nodded, focusing on a few insurance claims that had been filed last year by a driver racing in the street stock division. He was claiming we didn’t tell him he had to wear gloves. In turn, his hands were burnt when his car caught on fire. You’d think some of these assholes would have common sense, but no. Those were the jerks who gave everyone the impression racers were dumb.
On the way home that night, after getting the boys cleaned up enough to get inside my car, we stopped by the Ranch House and picked up dinner.
I spent most of the drive home listening to Axel and Casten in the backseat.
“Well, damn... I didn’t think of that.”
“No. No. There can’t be a damn in this scenario. Take it back,” Casten told Axel, his voice serious. This was alarming—Casten was never serious.
“Oh, yeah, well it’s not that easy, Casten. Might I add... this was your goddamn idea?”
Hearing my twelve-year-old and eight-year-old cussing was a little shocking. But, not surprising. By the time Axel was five, we had to “out” the money when cussing, or Axel would be a millionaire now.
“I’m aware of that,” Casten replied with a chuckle.
“I want no part of this then,” was Axel’s response.
Casten laughed. “It’s a little late for that.”
“All right,” I finally interrupted. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” they said together.
“Someone better tell me,” I warned, eyeing them in the rearview mirror. The passing streetlights provided just enough light to catch glimpses of their eyes.
As I expected, Axel cracked after five minutes of silence. He didn’t like to see me upset, in fear I’d take his race car away. “Casten,” Axel began when his words were cut off by a grunt. I heard the punch Casten delivered to Axel’s shoulder and Axel whisper, “You asshole.”
“Casten and me,” he corrected, “well... we told Arie to, uh... she was tired.”
“And ...”
“Well, she was tired, and we told her to just sleep in the back of Spencer’s truck.”
“So?”
“Well, Spencer’s not exactly going back to Summit Lake tonight.”
I knew that already. Spencer had plans to drive up to Burlington tonight, and then he was heading to Canada for the weekend to go skiing with some of his buddies before testing began.
“Wait a second,” by now, we had pulled into the garage. I turned to face the boys. “You’re telling me that your sister showed up at the track today, without me knowing. You told her to get in the back of Spencer’s truck to take a nap, and then didn’t tell him or me that she was back there when he left.”
“That’s pretty much it,” Casten nodded with wide eyes. Axel just stared at me in horror that I was going to freak out. And I did. My little girl was in the back of a goddamn truck in the middle of winter, going down the freeway with my reckless driver of a brother.
“You’re both grounded,” I told them, slamming the car door. They followed me inside the house with the bags from Ranch House. “And, another thing …” they stopped dead in their tracks, knowing damn well what was next. “No Duel in the Desert.”
Axel looked like he was going to cry, and Casten could care less. Even though he raced, he just raced because he enjoyed it, but he held nowhere near the passion Axel held for it.
“What’s going on?” Sway came bouncing into the kitchen behind us.
Casten hopped onto one of the stools next to the island, digging through the bags from Ranch House for his dinner. “Dad lost Arie.”
“I did not. You two did.” I pointed to both of them. “I mean it—you’re both grounded and will not race in Phoenix.”
“What do you mean Arie is lost?” Sway began to panic.
Casten, being a complete mama’s boy poured it on thick. “I’m sorry, Mama,” he hugged her while batting his eyelashes; she was a sucker for that. “But look at it this way... you won’t have to drive her to those stupid dance classes anymore.”
Sway slapped his shoulder. “Don’t be a jerk.” Her panicked eyes found mine. “Where is she, Jameson?”
By now, I was already calling Spencer. “Apparently, your boys decided to convince her to take a nap in the back of Spencer’s truck.”
“Okay... so where is Spencer?”
“Burlington. Actually, he’s on his way to Burlington and then Canada.”
It took her about thirty-six seconds before she finally grasped the meaning behind this. “Oh, my God!”
“Now you finally understand.”
She turned toward the boys. “That was not a very nice thing to do.”
Emma walked into the kitchen with Noah following her.
“Why are you two here?” I asked, annoyed when Noah kicked my shin as he walked past. For being eleven now, he was still an asshole and even more dangerous around cars than he was at two. He was a little fucker.
“We came over for dinner. Aiden and Charlie will be here in a few minutes,” she looked around the kitchen. “Is Arie with Lexi?”
“Nope,” Casten replied. “She’s heading for Canada, eh.”
“Canada?”
“Yep,” he nodded. “Axel’s fault.”
Axel’s temper was exactly like mine. How do you think he reacted?
In a very quick movement, he had his younger brother on the ground and in a headlock while Casten screamed bloody fucking murder for Sway to rescue him.
Spencer answered so I let the boys wrestle around on the kitchen floor while Sway tried to get them away from each other.
“Spencer?”
“Yeah?” I could hear the faint sounds of his truck’s engine in the background.
“Where are you at?”
“I’m just outside of Burlington, why?”
“Because... Arie is in the back of your truck,”
“What?” he panicked. “How the fuck did she get back there? Jameson, it’s snowing and has been for the last half an hour.”
Jesus Christ!
“Pull over,” I demanded. Now I was the one panicking. Sway was clinging to my side, trying to hear everything we said. Emma rushed behind her, knocking all three of us forward into the granite counter.
There was silence for probably close to five minutes while I heard Spencer getting out of his truck.
“Jameson ...” Spencer’s said, amused. “Your daughter would like some words with you.”
Shit.
Arie must have taken the phone because the next thing we heard was her screaming. “Those two better pray for their lives because when I get home,” she growled. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna kill those assholes!” Her voice was marred slightly by her shivering.
“Without a doubt... you are your mother’s daughter,” I laughed at my daughter’s use of words. We tried to teach them to not swear, but really, were we good examples? No.
I ended up having a conversation with Axel later that night after Arie arrived home, and we were sure she was all right.
“Hey, buddy,” the door creaked open as I stuck my head inside.
Axel looked up with a furtive glance. “Hey Lil, I gotta go... Dad’s here... yeah... all right... see you then.” His cheeks flushed as she said something else. “I... love you, too,” he whispered and then hung up quickly.
Chuckling, I moved inside his room. “Love, huh?”
He shrugged, leaning back on his bed and tossing his phone on the nightstand. I noticed a picture next to his lamp of him and Lily when they were about four. “Why not love?”
“Love is a strong choice to use when you’re twelve, buddy.”
“I know that... but it’s true.”
“Fair enough, but you need to be careful. You’re young, and so is Lily.”
He sighed, that same sigh I used. The one I used when someone warned me about Sway when I was younger. Sure, it turned out well for us; we’d just celebrated our twelfth wedding anniversary. I was still just as much in love with her as I was the day I said, “I do.” I also knew enough about Axel to know his intentions with Lily were genuine. Without a doubt, he loved her.
“Do I really not get to race in Phoenix?”
“You need to learn there are consequences, Axel. You and Casten both. What you did with Arie today could have really hurt her.”
“I know... but Dad ...” he whined. It was difficult for me because if someone had told me at twelve I couldn’t race... I would have had a shit fit of epic proportions, no lie. I was pretty sure I actually did at one time or another.
“All right, buddy, but if you mess with Arie again... I’m turning her loose on you.”
“Oh, dear God,” he teased with a smile. He knew damn well what she was capable of. Arie had repercussions down to a goddamn art.
Patting him on the back, I stood. “I say the same thing about my sister.”
I found Sway in our room rubbing Arie’s back as she slept in our bed. “How is she?” My hand ran up Arie’s back, brushing her rusty locks to one side, her breathing slow and steady.
“She seems good. I called Dr. Sipher. She said to keep her warm and hydrated,” Sway’s eyes met mine, and I could see the weariness in them. “Her temp is 94.5... that’s a concern.”
Sway and I spent the rest of the night in bed with Arie, scrutinizing every shiver and breath she took. Something very strange happened when you became a parent. Suddenly, you were no longer focused on only yourself. There was this tiny human looking up to you for comfort, reassurance, care, and most of all... love. It was a huge responsibility, and I thought being a NASCAR champion was hard. That had nothing on parenting.
It turned out Arie was fine. She did end up with pneumonia, but she was alive, and the boys seemed to have learned their lesson. We couldn’t ask for much more than that.
Whether you wanted to or not, there came a point when you were interested in what the public thought of you. I didn’t care who you were. At some point you would care. I did.
I didn’t know why I had Googled myself, but when I did, I wished I hadn’t.
It was times like this that I forced myself blind and only saw what I wanted to. It didn’t matter. All I saw were lies, but then I started to believe them.
There was tons of hate websites on me and Jameson. There were pictures of my husband with other women and pictures of my kids. It made me sick. I wasn’t worried about the other women, I had no need to. I knew it was happening; there was no way for him to get away from them at times, and, yes, photographs were snapped making it seem like he was with them... I knew he wasn’t. I would admit, though, when Jameson denied it was happening, it irritated me. Especially when it came to Nadia, a woman who was around him constantly, and there were many pictures of them together. I knew what the pictures represented, but he’d blown them off as though they meant nothing.
To me, they meant something.
Lying to me wasn’t the answer. I knew why he did it, but lying was never the answer.
Even with those pit lizards and Nadia all over my husband and Jameson insisting it wasn’t happening, what bothered me the most were the pictures of my children. It felt like an invasion of privacy. Like having your home broken into, only now the whole world saw. Free to judge your dirty laundry the way they perceived it. Only they based their theories upon lies.
Three cups of coffee and half a dozen donuts later, I was still on the internet.
Jameson called around four to tell me that he was on his way home from the shop. He and Justin had been preparing the sprint cars for next season, and he was set to leave for Daytona tomorrow night for the beginning of Speedweek. Every spare minute he had was spent at the shop with JAR Racing.
So by five, I was now wearing sweats and still on the internet while contemplating making comfort cookies or fudge, lots of fudge.
I couldn’t believe some of this bullshit out there. The articles and debates about Darrin and Jameson were sickening. I knew what really happened, but the idea that there were assholes out there who were still caught up in it some twelve years later was maddening. I wouldn’t lie. There was part of me that thought Darrin was still alive. It was the thoughts that scared me the most now that we had children. Those were the fears that screamed for me to convince Jameson to run away with me and never look back.
When Jameson had finally come home, my laptop was in pieces on the floor in the kitchen.
He smirked. “Did it talk back or something?”
“According to Wikipedia ...” I began, but stopped when his eyes flashed with anger.
Jameson groaned and walked out of the room. “Not that again.”
I told him everything I had read, and all the sites that believed Jameson had killed Darrin, and all the crap about Darrin still being alive. He turned sharply on his heel to face me. “I don’t care what those fucking websites say. He’s dead as far as I’m concerned. Don’t Google that goddamn shit again,” his face was dark and demanding. “I mean it, Sway.”
Despite what the websites said, even if Darrin was alive, it didn’t matter. As Jameson said, as far as he was concerned Darrin was dead. We’d moved on, or so we thought. Everyone thought we had this perfect life because we made millions each year, and Jameson raced in an elite series every year, but we had problems just like everyone else. We fought just like every other married couple, over the same shit every other married couple fought about. But we had other pressures most didn’t see. Our lives were in the public eye.
“I won’t,” I finally said, nearly in tears. It’d been a rough day.
He sighed, knowing he’d hit a nerve.
“Honey, I just... I don’t want this. I want to forget about it, and... I can’t. I’ve tried, but I can’t. So please, help me by not bringing it up.”
I understood why he wanted to forget, but in the same sense, I didn’t really want to forget everything. It was something we needed to remember for the sake of our children. The moment we let our guard down with them was the moment something would happen.
Too many times I’d had to have Van rescue me at the track or a restaurant when a crazed fan took it too far. That was why I never forgot. It was a reminder of how hostile this world really was and how fragile the lives of our family were.
Jameson wanted to forget, and I would respect that because his was more of the violence. Regardless of what many people believed, Jameson was not a violent person and tended to shy away from conflict in racing if he could. But he did believe in his ability, and if someone questioned it, Lord help them.
Tommy stopped by on his way to Dog Hollow that night.
“Hey, Sway,” he called out and then headed up to get Casten and Arie. I didn’t pay much attention to him as he frequently took my kids for the night. Tommy may not be the most mature person I’d ever met, but for the most part, he was good with my kids, and that was all that mattered to me.
“I’m borrowing them,” he told me before leaving.
Later that night, I apologized to Jameson.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, crawling into bed.
He was on NASCAR’s website checking out an article they wrote about him the other day.
He looked up for a moment and then back down at the screen.
“I’m not okay with you believing that shit they put on the internet,” he said, keeping his focus on the screen.
“I said I was sorry.”
“I know,” his expression didn’t seem like he knew, though.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No, honey,” he sighed, resting his head against the headboard and pushing the laptop aside.
His arms wrapped protectively around me. What his expression wasn’t telling me his arms did. He wanted to protect me and couldn’t. But it wasn’t that he couldn’t, he just felt that he hadn’t so far.
Jameson couldn’t be with me every day and that scared him. Over the years I began to understand the feeling, but I would never truly understand what it meant to Jameson to provide a safe place for his children and me. It was a feeling only a man could understand.
Despite my feelings over what I found on the internet that day, I never brought up everything I found.
Tommy returned with Arie and Casten the next day and his new girl he’d met the night before.
She went on to talk about how she loved my kids and thought they were the greatest, especially Casten.
That was when I asked Tommy’s intentions.
“Fire crotch,” he quirked an eyebrow at me, and I smiled, knowing he hated that nickname. “Are you using my children to get women?”
He kind of choked. He kind of snickered. And, then again, he kind of laughed. All that confirmed my theory.
“Why would you think that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because all these women seem to love my kids.”
He shrugged and reached for a beer in the fridge and then sat down beside me at the table. I could see Arie and Casten talking with the new girl in the living room.
“Hey, I was thinking maybe they could come with me to Jacksonville for the weekend.”
“No, Casten has a race and Arie has dance class.”
“Oh, well, how about I claim them on my taxes then?” he blurted out.
“Why?”
“They spend enough time with me. It’s only fair.”
“Are you really that stupid?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted and then caught a glimpse of Jameson walking down the stairs. He leaned forward. “Don’t say anything to Jameson.” He caught himself and then glared. “Never mind, you will.”
“Oh, hey, Jameson,” I grabbed his hand as he walked past. “Tommy wants to claim our kids on his taxes.”
Jameson stopped and looked at Tommy. “Why?”
“That girl in there thinks our kids are his. He’s trying to make it legit.”
“I never said that,” Tommy added and then wrinkled his nose. “It sounds horrible when you say it like that.”
“Is it true?” Jameson asked him and then poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked into the living room at the girl and then smiled at Tommy knowing what he’d done.
“Yeah,” Tommy hung his head in shame. “It’s true. In my defense, they could pass for my kids.”
“Why do you lie to these girls?” I asked Tommy, shaking my head in laughter as Jameson stared at him in shock. “What’s not to love about an overly confident orange head with commitment issues?”
“I don’t know why I subject myself to this torture.” Tommy rose from the table, but grinned despite our verbal abuse and took another beer from the fridge on his way out.
EVERY YEAR WHEN our family was finally all together we took a big family picture. That meant everyone.
We had our family, Spencer and Alley, Aiden and Emma, and then Jimi and Nancy, including all the grandkids.
This was never a good experience in the ten years we’d been doing it. Something bad always happened. It was similar to the holidays we spent together.
So that morning around nine, we all met at the Carolina Beach in North Carolina.
Might I point out that Emma and Nancy arranged this every year? No one in their right mind, in our family anyway, questioned anything Nancy said, ever. And, Emma, well we just went with the flow, it was easier that way. It was like trying to control Axel and Casten’s hair in the morning. If you messed with it, it was worse. Mess with Emma, life became hell.
Getting my family there without an argument was an ordeal.
It started in the car on the way there when Arie laid into Jameson about wanting to get her nipples pierced. I tried to warn her that today was not a good day to be asking him questions like this, but she never listened to me. I didn’t why I thought she’d start now.
“Dad,” Arie caught his attention, and he looked in the rearview mirror at her. That was when she went in for the kill with her pleading eyes and smile. “I was thinking that I would like to get my nipples pierced.”
Jameson’s nervous chuckle rang through the car at Arie’s request. “She’s not serious, is she?”
I shrugged and pretended to find my cell phone interesting. “She’s your daughter. What do you think?”
“Dad, it’s just my nipples. No one will see it but me.”
“Or maybe you just want—” Arie’s hand cut off her younger brother’s remarks before they could be heard.
“Never mind,” Arie mumbled, slumping back into her seat. “I never get to do anything.”
“Oh yeah?” Jameson challenged. “Sway.” He turned to me. “Who is that little girl you take to dance lessons each week?”
I laughed and that shut Arie up. I had a feeling I needed to school her on when to bring up this sort of thing. But if I was being honest with you, I wasn’t exactly okay with the idea of my eleven-year-old daughter having a nipple pierced just because her cousin did. If Spencer only knew that his beautiful, blue-eyed only daughter had done this at ten.
Jameson was grumpy the entire drive because he had to catch a plan to Daytona in a few hours; his daughter talking about piercing herself wasn’t exactly helping his mood.
He also claimed he had no time to be taking pictures.
Axel was being just as grumpy because he’d apparently changed out the rear end in his midget only to have it leak oil all night.
Arie was not thrilled about getting her picture taken either. Casten, well he was adding fuel to the fire. Any time he sensed his siblings annoyed in any way, he tried his hardest to send them over the edge. Nancy found Casten humorous because if you took Spencer, Emma, Jameson, and me and added all those personalities together... you got Casten Anthony Riley.
“Leave me alone, asshole!” Arie pushed Casten on the ground when we got out of the Escalade. “You’re such a little jerk.”
“Arie,” Jameson warned in his stern fatherly tone. “Knock it off.”
I cringed at my little girl’s use of words.
“He started it.”
“I don’t give a shit who started it. Just act like normal children.”
Arie snorted sarcastically. “And how do normal children act, Dad?”
“How should I know,” Jameson shrugged, checking his phone, and Casten chuckled at him, picking himself up from the pavement. “Where the fuck is everyone at? Let’s get this shit over with.”
And that was why my children cussed like truckers.
Casten started in with Arie again, and Jameson grabbed Casten by the collar of his shirt. “You’re going to behave today,” he told him.
“Yeah, sure,” Casten laughed at his father’s weak attempt at controlling him.
“I mean it. You fuck this up, and I’m sending you to boarding school.”
Casten and I both knew that would never happen. I’d bail him out within twenty-four hours.
“School it is,” Jameson glared at me. “And don’t you think about bailing him out. I know you. He needs to learn manners.”
Casten being the smartass I always knew him to be, smiled. “Oh, Daddy, please don’t.”
Jameson smacked him upside his head, and his rusty waves danced in the breeze. “I blame you for this.”
After twenty minutes, everyone started to arrive. That was when the real fun began.
Van and Andrea showed up with the Lucifer twins who were practically adults. Lucas had just signed with the Pittsburgh Pirates to play professional baseball. So he was here, in body, much like Jameson, with his phone molded to his fingers. From my experience, this was the norm for any professional athlete.
Why?
Because there was an endless amount of emails, phone calls, Twitter updates, Facebook statuses... it was how they stayed in touch with fans and publicists. As you could imagine, Jameson hated all of that.
Logan hovered around Jameson since he was now working for JAR Racing. Anything Jameson said, he now paid attention to. It still made me laugh when I thought about Logan duct taped to a chair, and Jameson eating cereal, acting as though there was nothing wrong with what he did.
Van and Andrea had just moved to the East Coast to be closer to us. With Van and Clint being with us pretty much non-stop, it was almost necessary for them to live near us. Clint lived about a mile away; he was single and took our safety seriously. He was the one who followed us everywhere. As he had his own family now, Van came when security would be an issue.
“What time does our flight leave?” Aiden asked Jameson as he approached him with Noah.
Jameson peeked at his phone. “Two hours... we need to get this over with.”
“Agreed,” Lane said from behind us. Little Lane was no longer little Lane. At sixteen, he towered over me in height, looked identical to Spencer, except with blonde hair, and loved to race dirt bikes. Currently, he was racing on the WORCS series, which was the World Off Road Championship Series that ran once a month primarily on the West Coast.
“Hey, Jameson,.” Lane nudged Jameson’s shoulder. “Can I come with you to Daytona?”
All the boys in the family loved Daytona.
Because of the women. Daytona was notorious for half-naked women flitting around. For teenage boys, I learned this was a dream come true. Mine were still a little young for that. Thankfully, Casten thought it was disgusting, and Axel, well, he didn’t see any of that. If it wasn’t a sprint car or Lily West, he never looked twice.
Jameson laughed, shaking his head. “Just keep your dick in your pants, kid.”
“Jameson!” Alley slapped his shoulder. “Don’t say dick around my son.”
“He’s sixteen, Alley ...” Jameson looked up to glare at her. “He knows he has one.”
“Regardless, don’t say that around him.”
“Mom... Dad says way worse,” Lane defended with a grin of his own.
Casten jumped on my back after that, smooshing his chubby cheeks into mine. “Let’s go get me some ice cream, Mama.”
“I don’t think so, monkey, it’s picture time.”
“I don’t think so. Don’t want to get my picture taken today. Maybe tomorrow,” he shrugged, letting his legs fall from around my waist to dangle with his arms wrapped tightly around my neck.
“Okay, everyone, let’s gather by the water,” Nancy called out, while Jimi gave everyone the eye. The one that meant you kids better behave. No one in their right mind crossed Jimi either. If our family was a kingdom, Jimi was the king.
Jimi was still racing on the Outlaw series with Justin, Tyler, Cody, and the new driver for JAR Racing, Rager Sweet. Jimi talked about retiring, but just like every other Riley in the family, racing was his life. I had a feeling he would only retire if he were forced.
Soon we were all lined up near the water, although none of us were actually looking at the camera. My kids were messing around, trying to throw Noah and Charlie in the ocean. Lane was helping them. Lexi was standing off to the side shaking her head at them. Lucas was on his phone as was Jameson. Van was trying to keep an eye on a group of women gathered a few hundred feet away taking their own pictures of us, stalking Jameson as usual.
Emma was screaming for Axel to put Charlie down. Aiden was helping Noah out of the water by now when Casten pushed him. Alley and Spencer were arguing about Lane going to Daytona with them. Nancy was smiling, glowing actually, and Jimi was glaring at everyone.
This was our family.
You couldn’t get us together all at once, but what family all got along?
None that I knew of.
The off-season for us was a time to reunite with everyone. We were all so busy throughout the year and had little time to actually be a family. We learned though after a few years, that was how it was.
When the picture was finally taken, Jameson pulled me aside to say goodbye. “You’ll be there on Wednesday, right?” he asked softly, his eyes searching mine. I knew he didn’t want me missing the Budweiser Shootout.
“Yeah, Arie has her recital on Monday, and then we will head out.”
He frowned. “Tape it for me?”
“I always do,” my lips met his for a quick kiss. He had other ideas about that, pushing me against the side of our Escalade. His hands crept under my sweater, lingering around the waistband of my jeans. Leaning into his warm embrace, the cool, crisp air blowing in from the ocean caused me to shiver.
Sighing, I pulled his face closer, sweeping my tongue across his lips. My dirty heathen reacted. We might’ve been thirty-six now, but we still had that spark.
“I’m gonna miss you so much, honey,” he whispered, pulling back after a few more kisses.
Casten beat on the window in the car. “Get a room, old guys!”
“He’s a little shit,” Jameson muttered. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
I smiled, taking in his sparkling green eyes, the tired lines forming on his face as he squinted in the sunlight. Taking my right hand that was wrapped around his neck, I leaned my forehead against his, running my hand over the stubble of his jaw. “I love you.”
“As I love you.”
Jameson left after that, and the life of the racing season began. There was one thing I learned from Nancy as I sat there in the parking lot watching my husband leave: you had to just go with the flow. It was all we could do.
We were racers’ wives.