Six years earlier…
ALEXANDER PARKER AND I had a whirlwind love affair, one to rival any contemporary romance novel.
John, my on-again-off-again boyfriend of almost a year, was heading south to Tennessee, advancing his degree to become a physical therapist. He’d asked me to go with him, but I knew his heart wasn’t fully committed yet so I said no, arguing that I wanted to finish nursing school here. There was no point in uprooting myself and applying to a new program for one year.
It was a hot day in July, the temperatures soared into the high nineties, the heat index well above one hundred. Working as an EMT, John often picked up extra shifts a few cities away at the race track. Two or three medical units were often, I was told, on hand in case someone crashed their car or motorcycle.
I thought the whole thing was ridiculous. Grown men and some women, flying down a straight quarter-mile track at incredible speeds. I often joked that I was surprised more ambulances weren’t on hand.
I drove my little white mini-cooper there with the top down and the music on high. I didn’t care that John was working, I just wanted to be wherever he was. I’d spent the day in the blistering heat. The skin of my shoulders had become bright red, incensed by the sun. I’d forgotten my sunscreen and received a lecture from John. Even the straps of my cami which dug into my shoulders as the weight of my boobs descended by nature’s pull hurt to the touch. I kept adjusting my bra and wiping the beads of sweat from the small space between them.
John and I leaned against the chain link fence that separated the participants from the spectators. He stood behind me with his chin resting on my head, careful not to touch my sunburn, but I was hot and I wanted him to give me some space. The heat emanating from his body felt like a thermal blanket. All afternoon, we watched the cars drive up to the line as the announcer’s voice ripped through the stagnant summer air, calling out the opponents in the next race.
I watched with rapt attention as two beastly looking motorcycles moved forward, lining up on each side of the track with their engines revving loudly. The starting line was submerged in a plume of white smoke as the tires were spun and heated up.
The driver on the right side shook his head and motioned for assistance. A young man with light brown hair, clad in the same black leather racing suit, emerged from the crowd and walked right up to the rider, spoke to him and proceeded to inspect the motorcycle. He dropped to a squat and made adjustments before standing to his full height and stepping back. With a heavy pat to the rider’s back, they bantered back and forth and smiled until the rider snapped his visor down.
The young man’s attention was drawn upward toward the cheering crowd. Scanning the faces of people waiting for the race to begin, he looks for something or someone until his gaze comes down in the direction where I stood against the fence.
His light eyes narrowed when our eyes locked.
For a few seconds that seem to stretch on for days, we stared at one another.
There was something about the connection, something innately profound as he commanded my full attention.
With the slow and deliberate slide of his tongue, he moistened his lips. Absentmindedly, I mimicked the motion as his tanned cheek pulled back in a side smile. He looked away, denying me his eyes when he turned and walked away behind the line. My eyes fell to the letters on his upper back, stretching from shoulder to shoulder.
STRONG.
Just before disappearing into the crowd, the sexy racer glanced back.
My teeth clenched down on my bottom lip, suppressing my mouth from displaying a full smile.
***
AT LUNCH TIME, in a desperate search for shade, I walked briskly over to the concession stand. I needed a respite from the blistering sun and I was hungry. I told John I’d grab some food and cold drinks while he tended to an obese man who was suffering from heat exhaustion or dehydration.
The line moved so slowly and I was anxious to get a drink since I was beginning to feel light-headed from the sun’s brutal beating. I wasn’t sure if it was the smell of the black asphalt, the fumes from race fuel, the soaring temperatures or the sudden disappearance of Strong, but I wasn’t having a good time anymore. In fact, if it hadn’t been for my infatuation with my boyfriend, I would never have come to a place like this. Ever.
It was stupid and childish.
I thought these grown men were just big boys who might be just as content racing remote controlled cars instead. Why subject yourself to this craziness?
I ordered my food and moved down the line to where the sign indicated I should wait for pick up. The sharp and distinct sound of a slap turned my head as a woman giggled and leaned into the tall man walking beside her. The playful banter between them told me she didn’t mind the red spot that was sure to be across her backside. I rolled my eyes.
Who does that in public anyway?
Again my attention is drawn back to them when she moaned about needing him desperately. Thankful for the dark glasses now covering my eyes, I finally allowed myself to look at him. I didn’t really notice his face; my eyes were fixated on the black leather that covered his enormous body. My head, along with my gaze, traveled up and down from his neck to his black boots.
“What the hell are you looking at?”
My eyes snapped up and I flushed red. I quickly turned away, embarrassed at having been caught checking out her man. Well, I wasn’t really “checking him out,” I was merely making an observation of his attire. His “leathers” as I’d heard them called.
“What?” she huffs.
“Knock it off,” he hissed.
A full-blown pout mars her face.
“I hate all these bike bitches.”
Bike bitches? What the hell does that mean?
I heard him ask her what she wanted to eat, but she replied she was only hungry for him.
He told her to go wait in the trailer. Then he added, “Be wet and ready.”
I didn’t even want to imagine what he was going to do. What a jerk! A disgusting jerk!
“Sixty-nine. Number sixty-nine?”
I looked down at my receipt and realized they were calling my number just as my phone rang. Stepping up to the counter, I carefully balanced the cardboard boxes filled with curly fries and cheeseburgers as I swiped my phone to take the call. My dad had gotten the test results for his most recent MRI.
“Hi, Mom. What’s going on?” I asked, keeping my eyes down as I wedged the two fountain drinks between my forearm and chest before turning to leave.
Bam! I collided with a brick wall. Actually, that’s what it felt like. Who knew Mr. Leathers had such a hard body beneath the material.
My phone dropped to the ground, my mother’s voice fading away. The thin cotton of my shirt soaked with pink lemonade, my boobs a sticky mess.
“Shit! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I mumbled as I bent down to retrieve my phone while setting the cup on the ground. I pushed my glasses to the top of my head away from my face. Mr. Leathers squatted, too, and reached for my phone. His fingers overlapped mine and I looked up, meeting his gaze. I could hear my mother calling my name, probably wondering why I’ve not said a word for the last ten seconds.
“Here you go.” He handed me the phone and smiled. Not just any smile, it was a heart-stopping, panty dropping yet incredibly charming smile and not the one he had given his girlfriend moments before.
“Thank you,” I replied, standing up, feeling slightly off balance.
He must’ve noticed because he reached out and placed gentle hands on my shoulders, steadying me. Even though my skin glowed red, I could feel his fingers burning an imprint onto my skin.
“Are you okay?” he asked huskily.
I blinked slowly and held my breath because for as hot and sweating as he must’ve been in that leather suit, he smelled divine.
He bent slightly at the waist so we were now at an even level. My eyes landed on his face and I thought for sure I was going to pass out. With dark, almost charcoal black eyes, he stared at me, searching deep into me.
Instantly, fiercely, undeniably, he drew me in.
I appraised him quickly. His messy hair, sprinkled with a hint of grey, was framed by a handsome tanned face. A straight nose, a square jaw and the light shadow of a sexy stubble made him gorgeous.
I blew out a slow breath and said I was fine, forcing myself to look away.
“I don’t believe you.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked.
“Seriously, I’m fine. Thanks.” As much as I didn’t want to, I stepped back out of his reach and swiped my finger across the shattered screen, silencing my mother’s voice.
“Ouch!” I hissed as I turned my hand upward and noticed the smallest sliver of glass sticking out of my skin.
I looked around for somewhere to set the food down so I could attend to my injured finger.
Without a moment’s notice, Mr. Leathers raised my hand to his mouth and tilted his head slightly.
“Allow me.”
I swallowed hard when I felt his lips part and his teeth grazed my skin. I was completely mesmerized when he clamped his teeth down on the sharp glass and pulled it out. My tongue darted out to lick my dry lips.
He spat the shard to the broken and cracked concrete. “All better.”
I expected him to drop my hand after I thanked him, but he didn’t. He again lifted my hand and slid my thumb into his mouth, his warm tongue sucking gently, purposefully, on the pad while his eyes remained fixed on mine.
I sighed like a damn fool.
A rush of adrenaline followed by a sudden surge of heat raced through my body at the simple, yet loaded, touch.
I had no idea what was going on; I’d never felt this before with anyone.
He lowered my hand and smiled. That smile again.
“Let’s get you some new drinks. Seems you’ve spilled lemonade all over us.”
I looked at his leather suit and noticed the remnants of where the liquid splashed.
“Sorry.”
After arguing that he didn’t need to replace my drinks especially given the fact it was my fault, I stood quietly and waited at his insistence.
I was handed a sturdy beverage holder along with another one of his smiles.
In my peripheral vision, I saw John making his way over to us. I nodded my thanks once again and turned, making my way over to my boyfriend.
“Hey. What took you so long?” he asked, detaching a drink from the holder.
“I got into a fight with the lemonade.” I spread my arms wide and looked down at my drenched shirt. “Clearly, I lost.” I chuckled.
“We’re leaving in about an hour. Do you mind sticking around until then?”
I offered a quick shrug, suddenly interested in the motorcycle races that were beginning in less than fifteen minutes.
John took the tray of food and popped a curly fry into his mouth as we walked back toward the ambulance.
I knew I shouldn’t have looked back and glanced at Mr. Leathers, but I did. With his head looking over his shoulder, I caught his eye and guilt flooded me when I allowed him to hold my attention for a moment too long. I looked over his shoulder to where Strong was slowly walking over with a deep scowl and furrowed brows. He also held my attention for a moment too long.
The beast of a man in black followed my eyes then looked back at me. His lips tugged into a knowing, sly grin before he turned his head, continuing to stand in line for his order. Silver block letters stitched closely together spelled “PARKER” across the wide expanse of his leather-covered back.
PARKER.
I only made it twenty steps when lust urged me to look back. My eyes grew wide when I noticed the two men, Parker and Strong, standing there, watching me. Feeling guilty, I made myself turn away.
I followed a clueless John back to the bench near the ambulance and ate the barely warm cheeseburger while we waited with anticipation for the races to begin again.
“Up next, ladies and gentleman, we have the race you’ve all been waiting for. Lined up on the right is Alex Parker and to his left Tyler Strong. These two have been going head to head for some time. Let’s see what happens today.”
I craned my neck and tiptoed against the chain link fence, hoping to get a better view. Strong was seated on his bike, his hands rested on his thighs, and his head hung low beneath his helmet. Minutes later, the two men revved up their motorcycles and created thick clouds of smoke beneath their rear tires. I could’ve run up and climbed to the highest level of the aluminum stands, but I didn’t. I felt closer to the action on the ground. And I had an even clearer view of the man named Parker.
There was such a feeling of excitement in the air; it was almost tangible.
John leaned over and yelled in my ear, competing with the noise and rumble of the crowd.
“I’ve got money on this race.”
“What?” I chuckled lightly because John was as straight and narrow as they came.
“It’s no big deal. I put a few bucks down on the guy in the left lane.”
Strong.
“Why?” I asked. “You don’t know a thing about either one of them.”
John twisted to face me as he raised an eyebrow and smirked. He was used to my passive way; this contention took him by surprise. With narrowed eyes, he stared at me, probably trying to figure out where Karrie, the girl who always went along with whatever he said, went.
It’s the same look that appeared on his face when I told him I wasn’t going to Tennessee with him.
His chest rose and fell as he looked at the two motorcycles lined up at the far end of the track. “The guy on the right is a complete douche.” His face contorted while his voice dripped with disgust.
Parker.
“How would you know that?” I wondered aloud as I snapped my teeth then proceeded to shake my head, adding in a subtle roll of my eyes.
John gave me another sideways glance. “He’s got a reputation around here. He’s a D & D.”
I laughed dryly, not appreciating his tone. “D & D?”
“Yeah. He’s a dick and a douchebag.”
What sounded like thunder followed by a freight train drew my attention back to the stretch of asphalt before me. I watched with rapt attention as the two motorcycles barreled down at insane speeds. My head snapped from right to left as they flew past, side by side as if they were one.
The crowd cheered when a light on the right lane illuminated with the numbers seven-five-two, indicating Parker to be the winner.
“Shit!” John roared in my ear, slamming his hand down on the top of the fence. “Son of a bitch!”
I stood there for a moment, completely and utterly baffled by my boyfriend’s reaction to some silly bike race. With rounded shoulders and his head hung low, John shuffled back to the ambulance then kicked the back tire.
I realized then he’d bet a whole lot more than just a “few bucks” and lost. Big time.
Enraptured by the thrill in the air, I continued to stare down the track as the two racers slowed their pace and circled around along the side.
A thrill shot threw me the moment Parker rolled past me. It wasn’t seeing him on the bike that made me shiver. As if time stood still, Parker and I were alone. He raised a gloved hand and lifted the clear visor of his helmet to look at me. In return, I removed my sunglasses and brought my hand up to my eyebrows, shielding the sun. Even though there had to have been two hundred people in the crowd, I knew the crinkling of his eyes as he smiled and the deliberate wink were for me. I felt it in my bones.
My head fell forward, my eyes looked at the gravel as my cheeks flamed red and a rush of excitement raced through me.
When I looked up, the second racer was now watching me, but he wasn’t smiling, he was snarling with narrowed eyes. I thought it might be a good idea to give up racing if he were going to be such a sore loser for having lost. I kept my gaze on him and followed his line of sight to the blonde I’d seen earlier at the concession stand. She didn’t look too happy.
The two men were lost to a sea of black leather.
He smiled at me I’d thought with a smile of my own. And then I remembered what John called him. “D & D.”
And I felt guilty.
I found John sitting on a rock, still pouting like an overindulged brat.
“You ready to go?” I asked, offering a gentle rub of his back.
Air filled his cheeks before he allowed it to release through rounded lips.
“You probably shouldn’t bet,” I teased. “Stick to saving lives. It’s what you’re good at.” I leaned over and kissed the top of head.
***
TWO WEEKS LATER, I accompanied John once again to the race track for the final race of the season. I didn’t really want to go, but I felt as though I’d been summoned. Someone… something, was calling me, beckoning me to stand amongst all the others in the crowd, subjecting myself to a brutal beating of the late summer sun.
I walked over to the same spot as I had once before, claiming it to be mine and mine alone even though John stood by my side.
Immediately I recognized the two motorcycle drag racers. Parker and Strong were once again lined up side by side, motors revved up, tires spinning, creating a cloud of white. A tiny smile crept on my face, and I silently wished Parker “good luck.”
“C’mon, douchebag. Win this race.” John mumbled through clenched teeth.
I laughed as I turned and looked at him. “That’s not very nice, you know.”
As if he were mesmerized by the whole situation, he whispered, “He just needs to win. I need him to win.”
Again, both racers moved up to the line and stared straight ahead. The intensity on both their faces matched the hard grips of the clutch and throttle. I had no reason to be nervous, but I was. I feared for Parker’s safety. A hollow pit developed in my stomach as they both launched and came barreling down the quarter mile track.
My palms grew sweaty and my heart beat faster. Then Parker’s rear tire began to fishtail from left to right. He managed to straighten out only to begin the sideways motion again. And then CRASH! In an instant, Parker’s body was thrown into the air and tumbled like a leather-clad ragdoll behind his motorcycle until he eventually stopped a few feet from the finish line.
While I panicked and screamed a repeated cry of “Oh my God! Oh my God!”, John cursed and moaned about having lost another bet.
“Smith! Let’s go!” Gary, the other EMT called John’s name.
Strong raised a fist in victory but circled back around immediately after crossing the finish line. He practically threw his bike to the ground before ripping his black helmet off and dropping down to his knees, yelling at his opponent.
Running full speed behind them as they rushed onto the scene, I came to an abrupt halt where Parker laid motionless on the black tar. I couldn’t believe this man so full of life now was dead. His days on Earth were done. And for what? The adrenaline rush of racing a motorcycle down a straight strip of road.
Strong was told to move, but he didn’t listen.
“Get your ass up so I can beat you fair and square. You hear me?” He lifted Parker’s visor and spoke directly to the man who remained seemingly lifeless.
A deep, raspy voice emerged from Parker.
“I let you have that one, kid.”
“Asshole!” The younger racer laughed.
When Parker turned his head in my direction, I released a huge sigh of relief at the sound of his voice and that smile. I didn’t understand the feelings I was experiencing; this man was nothing to me. Nothing at all.
He couldn’t stand on his own two feet without leaning to one side, even with Strong offering support. Despite that fact, it still took serious negotiating from Gary and John to convince Parker to get evaluated.
“I’m alright!” he kept saying. It was more than obvious he didn’t like to depend on anyone.
I stepped forward as my traitorous mouth opened and spoke while my eyes softened and beckoned him to listen.
“Just let them check you out. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“You going to be there, angel?” His eyes traveled the length of my body from my hair pulled back in a ponytail to my flip flops. And back up again.
The eyes of all three men snapped at me and I gulped. A wave of heat surged through me and although I was embarrassed, I was flattered at the attention. I loved the way he looked at me. I loved the sound of his voice. I loved feeling desired. I loved it all. But I hated that my boyfriend was staring at me with confusion and hurt on his face.
“Let me help you,” I offered when Parker once again lost his footing. So together, Strong and I each took one of Parker’s arms, slung it over our shoulders, crossed our other arm across his back and walked him to the ambulance.
With a quick shake of my head, I rebuffed John’s attempts to intervene and then offered an apologetic shy smile at Strong when our fingers accidently touched. Instead of a smile in return, I received the same harsh expression he wore weeks earlier. Disgust was back in place on his face. It was a shame because he was a really great looking guy.
One might even call him hot.
I rode in the ambulance with Parker at his insistence. John practically barked at me to leave the patient alone every time Parker tried to talk to me. When John turned to look at the small monitor mounted in the corner, Parker, with his neck firmly secured in a brace, squeezed my hand to get my full attention and then he winked at me.
John and I had the biggest argument we’d ever had in our relationship. Well, he yelled while I remained silent. What could I say to defend myself? I didn’t ask to be hit on by Alexander Parker. I didn’t ask to be the object of his affections, but clearly I was.
***
“KARRIE,” JOHN STARTED before he hesitated. “I think we should see other people. I’m going to Tennessee and since you won’t come with me, I don’t think it’s fair to be tied down. I’m sure you’ll find someone else, too.”
My boyfriend didn’t have to say the words, but I knew he was referring to Alex, the man who started showing up at my job and begging to take me out to lunch as a way to thank me for helping him that day at the track. I declined and declined…until I finally gave in.
It was supposed to be lunch, but we’d spent the afternoon talking and ended up having dinner together. I found him intriguing and knowledgeable. He could talk about anything because he was older and had experienced so much more that I had. He lived a full life and wasn’t looking to slow down.
I knew in my heart that John wasn’t the one for me, but never did I think Alexander Parker would be. Less than a year later, I became Mrs. Parker.
John texted me several times right before my wedding. He warned me about Alex’s philandering ways, but that wasn’t who he was anymore. He was no longer the D & D. He was my husband. And together we lived a full life, traveling to tropical destinations, dining at the best restaurants and rubbing elbows with a few A list celebrities he’d met along the way from racing.
Everyone wanted a piece of Alex Parker, but he was mine.
All mine.