Chapter One
I’d avoided crossing the street since I’d come home. Each time the roar of a souped-up engine silenced the late afternoon chirping of crickets, I tried not to think about what lay on the other side of the country road that separated our back yards.
Instead, I sat on my parents’ back steps and contemplated all the things about summer I loved. The heat of the sun on my tan legs, the muggy smell of wet, sweltering earth, and as much as I hated to admit it, the sound of that engine and the tear inducing sting of the fumes from the methanol fuel it burned.
I was a glutton for punishment.
“Rae!” A familiar voice cracked through my race fuel tainted reverie.
“Hey, Vic.” I gave an absent wave.
The slight Latino gestured me over.
I hesitated.
Crossing that narrow stretch of sunbaked asphalt wouldn’t just be a blow to my pride, it would also test the strength of the walls I’d built to protect myself. It was only a matter of time before one of the guys saw me.
I loved my brother’s friends as if they were family. I loved one of them too much.
Arkadia, Texas, wasn’t a big place by any sense of the word. The population hovered at five-thousand residents, mostly blue collar, and was the Texas equivalent of Mayberry. That is, if Mayberry’s heart was a race engine and it beat to find out who was the fastest in town.
No matter how much trepidation gripped me, my feet were propelled off my parents’ porch and across the street. A walk I’d made a thousand times in my life.
“C’mere, mama.” The scent of exhaust and spent oil enveloped me as much as Vic’s arms. He had me by both a few years and a few inches, neither of which stopped him from dropping a kiss to the top of my head. “Gotta tell ya, I like the blonde in your hair.” He tugged on one of my long, highlighted tresses. “Smokin’.”
Slowly, the heaviness inside me began to lift. I managed to smile, which was a small victory. No matter what had come before or what lay ahead for me, this was family. “It’s good to see you, Vic.”
It wasn’t a lie. Would this be the only time that I’d be able to say that? Behind me the shop loomed, taunting me with the threat of my brother’s best friend. I wouldn’t ever be prepared to face him again.
“It’s been too long, Raelynn. Your brother told us you were coming home, but he didn’t say when.”
Of course, he had. Aiden told them everything. Sometimes too much, but I wasn’t ashamed of coming home several semesters shy of graduation. I wouldn’t add my return to the list of things I was ashamed of. I needed a change of subject.
“Eh.” I held up my arm against his and pointed out that my golden skin was a few shades lighter than his burnished copper, even with my deep summer tan. “I have some catching up to do.”
“Nah, you’ll never catch up to this Latin flava.” He rolled his body in a cocky little dance.
“Flava? I got your flava, hombre.” Sarcasm slid into the easy laugh in the way of old friends.
Before Vic could respond, a tingle ran up my spine. I didn’t have to turn around to know who had walked up behind me. After all, it was his shop that we stood in front of. Of course, he’d be here. Of course, I’d be all too aware of his presence.
“He talks a lot.” A deep rumble rolled across my senses, sank into my being, and filled all the empty places. “But he doesn’t know shit about flavor.”
I hated the anxiety that pushed at my chest. The internal battle I waged against turning toward that voice was futile. Since I was a little girl and he’d been a wild-eyed boy, I’d been pulled to it. Time hadn’t diminished the potency of the man it belonged to now.
Jordan Slater most certainly wasn’t a boy anymore. His fierce dark eyes took in my appearance. I shifted nervously from one foot to the other as I tried to read his reaction through eyes shaded by thick lashes.
Muscles stretched the black t-shirt tightly across his chest and well-worn, grease caked jeans settled low on his hips.
As I’d done all my life, I absorbed the full impact of the shock and thrill he’d always been to my senses. It was a miracle I didn’t turn into a puddle at his feet. I’d left town to get away from the complete lack of self-control he instilled. I never could tell him no, no matter how many times he broke my heart.
His face gave away nothing as he wiped his hands on a shop rag and tucked it into his back pocket. When he shoved his hands deep into his front pockets, I suspected he was trying not to hug me as Vic had.
My upper lip curled at his effort.
“Raelynn!” Even though Jordan seemed to block out the sun, a shock of unruly golden hair darted past him.
“Hey, Devin—” I was snatched up before I could even finish my sentence.
Devin was taller and wider in the shoulder than Vic, so it wasn’t a chore for him to lift me off the ground. He spun me in a circle in the gravel drive. His hair tickled my nose and smelled of race fuel and brake dust.
But, he wasn’t as big as Jordan, so I didn’t get the thrill I would have if he’d been the one tossing me around. Devin didn’t make my breath hitch or my pulse race like Jordan did. He made me feel like I was small enough he could swallow me whole. I smiled and tried not to compare the two men. It was hard not to. Jordan cast as large a shadow in my mind as his stature did in life.
“I’ve missed you, girl.” Devin squeezed me tightly. “A tank top and cut offs never looked so good. Damn, I love a woman with curves.”
“I missed you, too.” I had to laugh at the flirty comments. I did miss him. Of all my brother’s best friends, Devin was the easiest one to be around. He was my honorary second brother. There was no way I took him seriously.
“Where’s Aiden?” He sat me down but didn’t immediately let go.
“Last I saw him, he was heading back to his place.” I’d spent the day at the race track with my brother. Aiden was on his way to being some sort of pro-modified drag racing prodigy.
“With the white-trash wicked witch?” Vic snarled. His Latin flavor suddenly soured.
“Easy, Vic. She’s the mother of his kids.” Devin put his hands up, palm out, as a sign of peace.
“That doesn’t change what she is, man.” Vic’s jaw jutted in his typical stubbornness.
I was of the mind to agree with him in this instance.
Barely twenty-four, my brother had a head start on family life. I hadn’t been a big fan of Wendy before they were married. I was much less of one after they’d tied the knot.
“She’s his wife.” There was Jordan’s voice again, and the tingles it left behind. “What we think doesn’t matter.”
I followed the conversation and them as they walked back into the automotive shop behind Jordan’s house. Some things, it appeared, never changed.
The shop was a tin roofed, white washed, cinder block building. The money had been spent behind the two large bay doors, not on the exterior. Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling and illuminated the two muscle cars within. A blue car lift, like those my father had at our family speed shop, and various rolling tool boxes hadn’t changed. The large fan throbbing in the corner and the fresh grease stains on the polished concrete told me they’d been hard at work even if the engine sounds and methanol assault on my nose hadn’t already done so.
Jordan hadn’t said much to me. That was a plus. Not that I preferred to be ignored, but I ran the risk of his attention making this visit awkward. Especially since the other two guys had fallen into such a normal rhythm. A normalcy, I had to admit, that was soothing. My last conversation with Jordan hadn’t ended normally or smoothly. It had left me with a broken heart.
Even so, I was unable to ignore him as he strolled to one of the tool boxes and began wiping the tools down with a rag. His movements were jerky. Every part of him was strung on a wire, no doubt because I was invading his space.
“What do you think of her?”
“Who?” I considered Devin’s big blue eyes and struggled to remember the line of conversation.
“Space cadet.” He slung an arm over my shoulder and laughed. “Your sister-in-law. What do you think of her?”
From across the room, Jordan’s dark gaze caught mine and held it.
My cheeks warmed and I fisted my hands on my hips to keep myself from turning away under the pressure of his inspection. Why did he always do this to me? Deep down, I knew why, but I wouldn’t admit it. Not even to myself. I had to believe I had changed, that I wasn’t that immature, infatuated girl anymore.
The tingle that ran up my spine and back down to the feminine parts of me begged to differ. “She…just had a baby.”
Vic hooted a laugh as I stumbled with coherent thought.
“We know that much.” Devin leaned against a sleek black Camaro. “What do you make of her?”
I’d spent all day at the track keeping an eye on my toddler nephew. I loved being at the track, but spending time chasing after a baby had been an experience to remember. If Wendy was too busy coloring her hair to be bothered with her child, our family would pick up the slack. That was what families were supposed to do. Heaven forbid her frosted tips not be perfect prior to race night.
But with Jordan watching me, I didn’t dare express those feelings. “I’m not married to her. Does it matter what I think? As long as he’s happy.”
Jordan nodded. “She’s right. His wife, not our business.” That was that. He had spoken. Conversation over.
The other two went back to pulling the tires off the Camaro. They knew when they could push and when they couldn’t. Jordan wouldn’t be pushed today. Even I could see it in the way his gaze hardened as he watched me, in the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.
Under his gaze, I reverted back to the little girl I used to be. I pulled at the fraying threads of my denim shorts and shifted from one foot to the other. I took one long look at the chopped up classic Camaro. “What are you working on, Jordan? Got a new car?”
Devin rolled the rear tire away with a grin on his face. “Nah, this one’s mine.”
“No way!” I couldn’t hide my surprise. Devin had always longed to race, but never could develop the competitive edge Jordan and my brother had.
“Yup.” He propped a hip against the hatchback of Vic’s familiar white Mustang.
Vic Morales had driven that car since the day he got his license. Maybe even before. I put nothing past Arkadia’s Race-Master Extraordinaire.
“Nice.” I ran my fingers down the gleaming black paint. The car was no longer completely steel as it had been decades before. Lighter weight fiberglass panels had replaced it. “What year is it, a sixty-nine?”
“Seventy.” Proudly, he puffed his chest out.
“What are you running in her?”
“A small block three-oh-five.” Jordan came around the front and took over. He left no doubt who’d built the car. “Powerglide transmission, nitrous, and big ass tires.”
He had my full attention now, like nothing ugly had happened between us. Nitrous was instant horsepower at the push of a button. The larger tires gave the car more grip to the road. They raced on the street. Concrete roads weren’t prepped and sticky like a drag strip. “How many shots of nitrous?”
“Three.” He teased Devin. “But he’s never seen the third.”
“And you have?” I cocked my head in challenge, verbally ribbing Jordan as he had his friend.
“Yeah, twice.” This from Devin, who took it all with the same good humor he took everything. “The first two passes on her, he wheeled it. But I haven’t had to use the third shot yet. I win without it.”
I was proud of Devin. He spent his formative years with my brother and Jordan. Aiden was the only person I knew who had a prayer of beating Jordan at the racing thing. Devin had learned from the best and now he was coming into his own.
“He smoked Vic.” There was pride in Jordan’s voice as he stowed tools in the closest tool chest.
“Shit man, that road was sketchy.” Vic’s voice was strained with the weight of his hurried explanations. “It was like driving over speed bumps the whole way.”
“Excuses are like assholes, bro, everybody has one.” Devin snorted a laugh.
“God, I’ve missed y’all.” I bit my lip to keep the rush of emotion at bay. Standing here, with all of them, meant I was well and truly home. Even if the all mighty Jordan Slater could barely bother to have a full conversation with me.
I tried not to let his lack of reaction affect my mood, even while my eyes followed him as he bounced a new tire toward Vic. Vic chased it a few feet before rolling it back to the car.
“Those preppy college boys ain’t got nothin’ on us.” Devin mussed my hair as he leaned against the car beside me.
“No, and they aren’t nearly as entertaining.” My laugh was hollow. He didn’t know how right he was.
“Did you miss all of us?” Jordan stood a few feet away, looking over his shoulder at me from the toolbox.
There was a lot of Native American blood in me, as just about everyone this close to Oklahoma. But Jordan was almost full-blooded Cherokee, and I never failed to notice the rich caramel color of his skin or the onyx glimmer of his eyes so dark I could fall right into them. If his hair grew out longer than the dark shadow he kept it at, it would shine like midnight.
Stop staring, Raelynn.
“Yeah, all of you.” My mouth was dry, I licked my lips. That time, it was Jordan who was staring.
Jordan moved toward me. Suddenly no one else existed but him. The other two guys seemed to disappear into my peripheral. He wrapped me in a thick, muscular embrace.
Home. I was home.
The contact was a jolt. But the smell of him—of soap and the shop, of man and machine—was safety to me. I’d thought time and pain had changed me, had changed those feelings. They hadn’t.
His lips brushed my hair, and my lungs constricted in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I flexed my fingers to keep from tangling them in the tight cotton that stretched across his back.
“I missed you too, Rae.” Was his voice strained? Could I hear something in it, some emotion a part of me desperately craved? I couldn’t be sure, so I told myself it wouldn’t have mattered if I had.
I pulled away abruptly. It was too soon to deal with this much intimacy from him. Way too soon. On a cleansing breath, I turned away from the dark temptation in his eyes.
The other car in the shop was one I’d seen race dozens of times. Just seeing it brought the adrenaline pumping memories flooding back. “And this beauty has a shiny new coat of paint.”
I didn’t run my fingers down the fender of Jordan’s Malibu. She was too pretty. I didn’t dare for fear I’d mar the polish. Admittedly, even I was struck with the mystique of the midnight blue Chevy. How many times had I watched this car fly down a dark street?
I could still feel the rush from the wind it kicked up, if I tried hard enough I could taste the warm night air and feel the tingles of anticipation as I waited to hear who’d crossed the finish line first.
It was almost always Jordan and the Malibu.
The sixty-nine Chevy Malibu was painted the sort of blue that would shine under the fluorescent lights of the track. But on the street, she’d be as black as the Camaro beside her. This was the car I compared all others to. It was difficult not to make the connection to the driver. Especially when I could still feel myself pressed against his chest. “Running a small block with three shots, too?”
There was no grin in response, instead only the arrogant tilt of Jordan’s head. “You know better. I like my race car to pull the entire eighth of a mile. Not just for a few seconds when I press the button.”
There wouldn’t be nitrous under the hood of the Malibu. She’d run a couple of turbos that cost more than I’d spent on a year’s worth of tuition. It wasn’t instant horsepower like nitrous, turbos pushed air through the engine and the horsepower was constant. The engine wouldn’t stop pulling until the pass was over.
“I bet.” The constant thump of the fan in the corner almost drowned out my words. When I turned, I got caught in the magnetic pull that was Jordan Slater. It was no wonder I’d always had a thing for fast cars because I’d always had a thing for him. The two were synonymous.
The pull was still in full effect as I straightened, trapped suddenly between Jordan’s intimidating form and the car. There it was, an instant of standing by that car, reminding me all too much of that moment before I’d left. Once before I’d stood by that car, once before he’d humiliated me and ripped my soul apart. The memory stung with a razor-sharp edge, forcing me to blink back tears of the past.
It was an unnatural reflex when I reached up and touched my throat, tracing other hidden scars, and found his eyes following my fingers. I forced my gaze up, under the bill of the black ball cap, and for one cold moment got caught in the questions of his eyes.
Defiance was the only answer I could give him. That defiance was rewarded with a heated gaze that stole the breath from my lungs. Would I ever find even ground when he was close?
“You shoulda been here last night, Raelynn.” Vic’s jovial words broke the spell between the sharp, electric whirl of the air socket on the lugs. “You could have watched them run each other.”
“I hate I missed it.” My laugh was too shrill, my movements too stiff as I hurried away from Jordan, grateful for the reprieve. Without trying, Jordan chipped away at my walls. I shouldn’t let him do this to me, shouldn’t let myself respond so vehemently. Yet, nothing I could do would pull the heat from my cheeks.
“Yup. Devin finally stepped up last night and they duked it out on the street.” A toothy smile spread on Vic’s face, drawing attention to the black smear across his forehead. “It was almost as epic as prom night when Jordan ran Aiden out off I-twenty.” It had been a while since Jordan had raced my brother. When Dad retired from driving, Aiden had taken over the family ProMod at the track.
“The most epic part of that night—” Grateful to put distance between the big guy and myself, I poked Devin in the chest. Secretly, I hoped he’d smoked Jordan. Even if that was unlikely. “—was my prom date.”
I’d expected the crimson color to his cheeks and the bashful way his crystalline eyes shimmered. Our shy, sweet Devin had taken me to prom. Those were memories that didn’t cause my gut to clench and my heart to ache. “It was a good night.” Devin nodded.
“It was epic. I was the most talked about chick in school after that. All the girls hated me. They all wished Devin McAllister had taken them to prom.” I told the truth as I saw it. Devin with his unruly blond hair and bright blue eyes was the object of many female affections. He just never seemed to notice.
“Pretty Boy,” Vic joked. “He still keeps them all lined up.”
The dramatic roll of Devin’s eyes only added to the pink hue of his cheeks.
“Who won?” It was a pointless question. We all knew the answer.
“Who do you think?” Jordan popped the hood on the Malibu. I couldn’t help admire the gleaming engine with the two turbos that spun off it like an airplane. I stepped closer, despite myself, for a better look. Again, I was drawn near enough to Jordan that I could feel the warmth of him, hotter than the summer evening around us.
He looked down at me and licked his bottom lip. Everything else disappeared. I trembled, unable look past his lips. Coherent thought slipped from my mind. There was a rush of heat to my chest and the punch of arousal so potent it shook me. Had he felt that? Did he have any clue what he still did to me?
“Should’ve hit that third button, son,” he said to Devin as he turned away from me.
Devin bristled, his body going rigid.
“When are you racing again?” I broke in before Devin could respond.
Devin latched on to the interruption with a quick grin. “This weekend. I’m running Hunter East.”
I raised a brow. I’d dated Hunter East in high school. Mostly to annoy Jordan. If there was a street racer in Arkadia who rivaled Jordan it was and had always been Hunter.
“Taking it out for a couple of test passes later.” Finished with the tire, Vic stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Your brother was supposed to ride out with us.”
“Yeah, that probably won’t happen.” I cringed. Aiden had been on the phone arguing with the white-trash wicked witch during the ride home. “He was arguing with Wendy when he dropped me off.” None of them were surprised. I rubbed the tension from my neck. “It makes me sad.”
“Why’s that? Married people argue.” Jordan leaned a hip on the Malibu, his eyes hidden by the ball cap.
“It’s not the arguing, though that sucks, it’s that he’s not here.” I chose my words carefully. “I missed all of you, together, when I was gone. I missed all of this.”
“Then why’d you leave?” Jordan folded his arms across his chest and made an important study of his sneakers. He knew exactly why I’d left. This was some sort of trap that I wasn’t going to fall for.
“I had to.” I took the honest route and fought to keep the bitterness from the verbal barb.
I had to see for myself what else was out there. What I’d always wanted here was unattainable. That reminder, from him, was a blow to my ego.
“Had to?” Devin’s eyes clouded with confusion.
I opened my mouth but snapped it shut. This wasn’t the time or the place for that conversation.
“I don’t care why you left, I’m just glad you’re back.” Devin gave me an easy out.
“Me too.” When he tossed his arm over my shoulders Jordan spun back into the shop. Did I imagine the stiffness in his back?
“You know…” Vic lit a cigarette. “I miss how it used to be with Aiden before he got married. But that little dude, Aiden’s oldest, he’s pretty awesome.”
“Luke really is.” I couldn’t help but smile when I thought of the chubby little cheeks I’d spent the day kissing. The best part of coming home had been my niece and nephew, even if my nephew wore me out.
“Good things come from change, too.” Vic wiped his hands on a shop towel and smiled at me.
“Well played, Socrates.” Jordan snorted and lowered the hood on the Malibu.
“Was he that Chinese guy?” Devin piped up.
“No!” The three of us answered him at once.
The air lightened. If I didn’t know better I’d think the tension brewing between Jordan and I had only been in my imagination.
“I’m exhausted after chasing around after Luke all day. I can’t imagine how they must feel doing it all the time.” The conversation was far safer if I kept it focused on my brother.
“Like parents?” Devin quirked a brow.
“Smartass.” I socked his shoulder none too gently. His playful wink was a reminder of why girls seemed to line up for a date with him.
“Take his place tonight.” Vic leaned against Devin’s car and took a pull from his cigarette. “You know you missed us.”
I did and I wanted to. At the college, we hadn’t had any real car guys. No real gear heads, no races.
I loved the track. The sights and smells, the lights and the fans. Being there today wasn’t the rush I got when two cars flew down the street with only their taillights gleaming in the darkness.
Even leaned back against the car, Jordan was taller than the other two guys. To many, the sheer size of him was intimidating. To me, it had always been thrilling. There were drivers who chased the thrill of racing, illegally, on the street, and drivers who were intimidated by it.
I got a thrill from the man and from the way he raced.
“I did.” I picked at the strings fraying off my shorts again, “But I should really wait on Bree to get home. I haven’t spent enough time with her since I’ve been back.”
I gave Devin a quick squeeze. “I just wanted to come over to say hi.”
“Chicken.” Jordan’s deep voice stopped me in my tracks. Much like the classic time traveling teen, I hated being called a chicken and he knew it.
“I am not a chicken.”
“Sure, you’re not.” Vic was all too agreeable.
“Not at all.” Devin’s grin was sly.
I pouted, knowing what they were doing to me. I hated it, feeling like a little kid. I’d spent too long around people who didn’t know me. I’d forgotten how quickly people who did could push my buttons.
I spun on my heels and walked out of the shop, only mildly surprised when Jordan followed me and clucked.
“Seriously?” Exasperation tainted the core of my being.
“Chicken.”
“What time?” A girl could growl.
Vic took his place beside Jordan. “We’ll roll out about two.”
“I’ll be here.”