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But he didn’t believe for a moment Cardin had him out here to talk about his plans for his property. “You’re welcome to help, but I gotta know. What’s behind the offer?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, affecting a frown that raised his suspicions not already at full mast.
“What do you want from me, Cardin?” he asked, taking hold of the lip of the can and spinning it out of the way, leaving the space between them filled only with a tension that lived and breathed. “Because I can’t imagine it’s the same thing I want from you—no matter the message you delivered with the corn.”
She licked her lips as she looked away, lifted her chin as she looked back. “If you take me up on my offer, you’ll find out, won’t you?”
Trey pulled in a deep breath, blew out a sigh. Her rules, he reminded himself. Her rules. And since he wasn’t getting anywhere today…“What about your hours here? Don’t you work pretty much full time?”
“I do, but I have connections.” Her smile punched him in the gut, and he was already aching. “The boss won’t mind scheduling around me.”
In that case, he wasn’t going to say no. “You wanna start tomorrow? I figured I’d tackle the outbuildings first. See what’s worth selling. Burn the rest, and haul what won’t burn to the dump.”
“Sure. I’ll talk to Jeb about using his truck. He gets a kick out of driving my Mini.”
Trey tried to picture the wide shoulders, six feet two inches, and prominent paunch of Cardin’s grandfather behind the wheel of her red Mini Cooper convertible and had not a bit of luck. “That I’d pay to see.”
“Then I’ll get him to quote you a price.”
Funny girl. He took a step toward her. “Say eight o’clock then? Or do you need more beauty sleep than that?”
“I’m okay on the beauty sleep, don’t you think?”
Cocky girl. A second step. “Could be you’ve had too much already. Could be an early morning would be good for you. Say…seven?”
“If I didn’t have so far to drive, we could get started at six.”
Brave girl. He took a third. “You looking to spend the night?”
“I might consider it,” she said, wetting her lips—and causing his head to blow a fuse.
Fuses elsewhere were inches from overload. “I’ve been at the track since I got here. I’m not sure there’s a mattress worth sleeping on at the house, but I do have a second sleeping bag in my gear.”
“Sounds great. We can stack them and spread them out. Or even zip them together.”
“Don’t toy with me, sweetheart.” Another step, and their thighs brushed. “I might think you’re actually of a mind to see to our unfinished business.”
“Do we have unfinished business?” she asked, backing away.
He followed. She stayed. “Cardin? Toying?”
“Now that you mention it, there is something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”
“So ask me.” He was willing to give her any answer she wanted as long as it meant he could touch more of her, and do so with something other than his denim-covered thighs.
“It’s about Tater’s kegger.”
“What about it?” As if he didn’t know.
“When I saw you…” She let the sentence trail and backed into the rear wall of the ice house.
“With Kim?”
She nodded. “What were you thinking?”
Hands at his hips, he snorted. “There wasn’t much thinking going on there.”
“I know that, but I’ve always wondered if your mind wasn’t on me…instead of Kim.”
What was he supposed to say to that? Admit the truth? Tell her that he had trouble remembering that Kim had been there at all? That his mind saw only the look of fascination that had been on her face? That even now he could feel how firm her breasts, how hard her nipples had felt against his chest?
“I’m thinking about you now. That’s all that matters.” He pressed his body to hers finally—finally!—raising her hands and pinning them to the wall. Then he lowered his head and nuzzled his cheek to her jaw, finding her earlobe and nipping it, nipping it again when she groaned.
“It’s softer than I thought it would be. Your beard stubble.”
The last time they’d been this close, he’d been fresh from the shower. “I need to shave.”
“No. Don’t. Not until I get a chance to feel more.”
This time Trey was the one to groan. Two sleeping bags zipped together. Her skin smelling like the sun. Crap on a pinhead, and he was supposed to wait? “Are you talking about now? Or are you talking about tonight?”
“I’m talking about anytime you want me.”
Chapter 4
IF CARDIN WASN’T CAREFUL, kissing Trey Davis was going to become her favorite pastime, and she would forget all the other things she needed his help to accomplish. But right now? All she wanted was this kiss.
Like the one in the Corley trailer, this one wasn’t perfect. It couldn’t be; it was stolen, desperate, next to a Dumpster against the ice house’s back wall. Anyone could come along at any moment…
She increased the pressure of her lips on his, pulling him in, needing him nearer to have her way. His mouth was warm, tasting of butter and salt and yeasty beer. His hands holding hers above her head were possessive and strong, and being his captive thrilled her.
He angled his head in one direction, she angled hers the other, fitting against him to deepen the tangle of their tongues, the crush of their lips. The heat deepened, too, as did the beating of hummingbird wings in her belly.
He saw to the close fit of everything else; the threading of their fingers, her hands pressed to the wall, the in and out weaving of their thighs, their flush torsos. She felt as if she was the tiniest thing beneath him, hiding in the shadow of his shoulders, disappearing behind his breadth.
He felt like hard work, and smelled like clean clothes and fresh country air. He was everything a girl could want in a guy, and more than most would get. He was decent, honest, a good man. She’d wanted him since high school, and was close to admitting she had been a little in love with him all this time.
She nuzzled his ear, whispered, “Trey?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you marry me?”
TREY JUMPED BACK AS IF Cardin had jabbed him with a cattle prod. Not exactly the response she’d hoped for, but then he hadn’t given her time to explain.
“That didn’t come out exactly right,” she heard herself saying, though she supposed even had she used the words she’d carefully thought through and planned for her proposal, it would still have been an unexpected shock.
“I goddamn hope not,” Trey said, his hands at his hips, the furrow of his frown deep enough to get lost in. “Marriage is the last thing I’m looking for.”
“Oh, me either,” she hurried to assure him, thinking the frown and the “goddamn” were a little over the top.
He blinked, blinked again. Shook his head. “You just proposed.”
“You’re right. I did.” She held up one hand, then rolled her fingers into a fist of frustration, wondering if punching herself would help. She didn’t want to screw this up any more than she already had. “But it’s not what you’re thinking.”
“So you didn’t mean it?” Trey rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It just…slipped out?”
Oh, yeah. This was going just great. She blew air up into her bangs. “Let me try this again. Trey, how would you feel about posing as my fiancé while you’re here? No permanent strings. No hard feelings when you leave.”
He was looking at her as if she’d grown a second head. “I’m going to need a whole lot more than that before I can figure out what you’re asking here, much less give you an answer. Is there a beginning where you can start? I mean, with our families’ history, who would believe for a minute that you and I were engaged?”
Their families’ recent history was at the root of as many of his problems as her own. She was Juliet to his Romeo. A Hatfield to his McCoy. But right now, her family was at risk of imploding. “If I start at the beginning, I’ll have to go back to the days when our great-grandfathers ran moonshine, so why don’t I start with the fight between your father and mine?”
Trey’s scowl darkened. “The one where Eddie got all busted up?”
“Exactly,” Cardin said. “A broken hip, a broken leg. Pins holding him together.”
Trey went on the defensive. “Even Eddie said that was an accident.”
“Guess what? I don’t care. All I know is my family went nuts after the fight. No one talks about anything except work, and they only do that while at work.” She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes for a moment, hoping to stave off the stress headache bearing down.
It didn’t work. Surprise, surprise. Her temples pounding, she went on. “It’s like Headlights is one big eggshell now, and I can’t deal with it anymore. I just can’t. If things don’t get back to some semblance of normal, I’ll have to leave town before I lose what’s left of my mind. Seriously.”
“And since my father was involved, you want me to help you settle your family’s feud?”
“Give the man a cigar,” she said, and punched him in the shoulder.
Frowning, he rubbed at the injury that really wasn’t one. “How long is this engagement thing going to take you to explain? I’ve got to get back to the Speedway and pack up the hauler. The team’s hitting the road at first light.”
Wow. He hadn’t said no. Initial hurdle cleared. “It’ll take longer than either one of us has now, that’s for sure.”
“My place tonight, then?” he asked after studying her for several long seconds, the light returning to his eyes, the dimples to his cheeks. “Or was the offer to help me mock foreplay? You know, to get me on board with the mock engagement?”
“What time do you want me there?” was her only response. She didn’t think it would be a very good idea to talk about foreplay when they were only minutes separated from that kiss.
He grabbed his BlackBerry from his waist and glanced at the screen. “It’s already six. I might not get out there till ten.”
“Then I’ll be there at ten. With Jeb’s truck, if I can get it.” She waited for him to come back with something about sleeping arrangements, the lack of mattresses, his camping gear, her suggestion that they zip two bags into one.
But he didn’t. He just nodded, contemplating something she was certain had to do with her, but keeping his thoughts to himself.
She stared into his eyes, and realized she didn’t need to hear him say anything at all. She could see the way he wanted her in his expression. Could read the story of his desire in the language of his body.
He hovered close, his chest rising and falling more rapidly than just moments ago. She expected him to lean in and continue the kiss, to lift her short skirt and explore.
He did neither, smiling as he took a step back, as he raised one hand, a temporary farewell to hold them until later. It made her stomach flip, that smile, so lazy, so sure.
She leaned against the wall of the ice house and watched him go, wondering if she’d bitten off more than she could chew—and if she’d come out the other side of this adventure the same person she was now.
TREY DIDN’T THINK HE WOULD ever finish closing up shop and making his escape from the Speedway. Sales by the track vendors were winding down, and most were engaged in the same sort of packing up as the Corley team. That didn’t mean there wasn’t plenty of action happening all around.
Smoke from charcoal fires lifted the aromas of bratwurst and burgers into the air, and the same wind carried the music of slide guitars, fiddles and accordions to appreciative ears. Monday morning was going to come a whole lot earlier than a lot of the beer-drinking, barbecue-eating, hard-partying folks in the pits would be ready for.
Trey couldn’t have cared less about Monday morning. He was waiting for ten o’clock tonight, the hour he’d finally get Cardin Worth alone. No pit crew to interrupt. No family hovering. No one but the two of them. Just him. Just her. Just like it had been seven years ago the night she’d left an imprint he’d never been able to shake.
But as ready as he was to have Cardin to himself, this trip was about more than getting laid. A big part of Trey’s temporary homecoming was to dig into the fight between his father and Jeb. The one that had sent Eddie Worth to the hospital after being slammed to the floor of the slicker hole—the oil changing pit in Morgan and Son’s garage.
The same fight Cardin had said made everything in her life go wrong.
He couldn’t say his life had been left unchanged, either.
A year ago this month, the fight had brought him back to Dahlia. When he’d left a week later, he’d owned his family’s home, buying the place from his father for the price of a beer, and paying off the huge gambling debt Aubrey had racked up in the years since Trey had hired on as a mechanic for Butch Corley and split.
Trey hadn’t even known about the gambling debt when the sheriff’s office had called to let him know about Aubrey’s arrest for assault. It had been after he’d settled things and was on his way out of town that he’d learned the full truth of the trouble his father was in. He’d stopped by the track to see Tater, who worked on site there with Trey’s father at Morgan and Son’s garage, and heard the story straight from his best friend’s mouth.
Trey hadn’t even hesitated, but turned and driven straight back to the house, striking a deal with his dad: Aubrey turned over the house, the barn, the five acres to Trey, and Trey paid off the damage Aubrey had done—as long as Aubrey left Dahlia and found a job in a town without the temptation of a track.
Sure, Trey’s father could’ve gone to Vegas, gambled online, found bookies anywhere to take a bet. But looking like a broken man, Aubrey had sworn he would do what Trey asked, thanking his son for having faith and staying true, for helping him in his time of need.
All of that had happened almost a year ago. Even so, Trey couldn’t help wonder if Aubrey losing everything he had left and being forced to move on hadn’t contributed to his decline, and six months later, his death. Or if the damage to his heart had been years in the making, and it simply his time to go.
Shaking off thoughts of his loss, Trey unlocked his pickup’s retracting bed cover and started sorting through his supplies. Knowing he could pick up what he needed in the way of tools, building materials, fuel and food in town, he’d packed only his laptop, his camping gear, his clothes and essentials.
No one had been living in the house for a year, and though he’d hired Beau Stillwell to keep the place from falling down, he had no idea what condition it was in. It didn’t matter. He wanted to stay on site. And if he had to camp out to do it, he was ready.
“Looks like you’re set for some kind of vacation.”
Trey looked up, and saw Jeb Worth standing a couple of feet away in the shadows cast by the truck that pulled the Corley hauler. “A change of scenery. A temporary change of vocation. But not much in the way of relaxation or time off.”
“You don’t have to stay out at your place.” Even at this late hour, Jeb’s crisp white shirt tucked into khaki pants worn with a cowboy hat and boots painted a picture of the lawman he should have been. “You’re welcome to stay at the house. We’ve got plenty of room.”
Trey wanted to sleep with this man’s granddaughter. There was no way he was going to stay at his house. He turned around, leaned against the open tailgate, the heels of his hands curled over the cool metal at his hips. “It’ll be easier if I stay out there. I’ll save gas and time not having to drive back and forth.”
Jeb nodded. “Any idea how long you’ll be in Dahlia?”
“As long as it takes to get the place ready to sell. Since I’m doing most of it on my own…” Trey stopped, wondering what Cardin’s grandfather would think were he to learn of her offer to help. Wondered, too, if the older man secretly harbored any hard feelings toward him because of the fight his father had started, a fight that had seriously injured Jeb’s son. “It’ll take as long as it takes, I guess. Depends on how fast I do the work.”
“So you’ll still be here in a couple of weeks.”
“Yeah, I’m not that fast,” Trey said, hoping he hadn’t read Cardin wrong and that he’d be spending a lot of what he’d planned as work hours otherwise engaged.
Jeb glanced toward the racing rig where Sunshine was dismantling the pop-up under which the crew worked on the car between heats. “I’ve got a ’69 Chevy Nova SS with Crane lifters, an Eagle 4340 Nitrated Pro Crank, and more goodies than you can shake a stick at sitting in the garage behind my house.”
Interesting. Trey crossed his feet at the ankles. “That so.”
Jeb nodded, still looking away. “Eddie’s always driven it for me in the Moonshine Run. Doesn’t look like he’s going to be doing that anymore.”
Was Jeb here to blame Trey for what Aubrey had done? Putting Eddie out of commission and leaving Jeb without a driver for the annual event? He kept silent rather than broach a subject he wasn’t sure was on the other man’s mind.
