moment realization dawned on him. They were standing in the wide open spaces acting like two love-starved, hormone-high teenagers.
The heat in his eyes cooled, his lips formed a determined line and his hands went into his pockets. He backed away from her like she had the plague.
A brief salute to his brow, a nod and he was gone. Driving away like the devil herself chased him.
Shaking legs would no longer hold her up, so Morgan sat down hard on the steps, letting the cool darkness soothe her.
Stunned at her feral reaction, she touched her lips with tender fingertips and tasted the salt tang of blood. She wondered how long it would take for the rest of her body to turn into a pile of smoking ash.
Chapter 10
Morning sun, rising over the grandstands, gilded the remaining five contestants with golden strokes. It warmed them as they waited on the pit wall for Butch Cameron and his entourage.
A restless night made Morgan push her sunglasses up snug to hide her tired eyes from the seeking sun and the cameras. She tried not to think about last evening’s escapade with Tyler and what it might or might not mean, ground she’d already covered thoroughly in the early pre-dawn hours.
She couldn’t figure out which was worse, the fact that his kiss had touched her in ways none ever had, or the part she really hated—he’d left her aroused and wanting more. Either way, she pushed it to the back of her mind for later. For now, she had work to do.
“Hey Eric, you ready for all of this?” Morgan stood behind the other contestants as they sat on the wall. Each had brought some of their own personal safety gear. Helmets rested next to them like a row of turtle shells, with gloves tucked inside waiting to be used.
“Oh yeah. I’m ready. You?”
“More than.” Morgan scanned the area and noted the absence of one of them.
“Where’s Jim?”
Eric and Kyle rolled their eyes at her, with Kyle speaking first. “Where do you think he is? He’s right where his brown-nosing butt fits best.”
Butch appeared from around the corner of the garage, headed toward them, followed closely by his wife, Lacey, and an animated Jim O’Bannon.
Gesturing with his hands and talking a blue streak, Jim brimmed with self-importance. He thought he could win this contest by the force of his personality alone.
“What a jerk. Hey, Morgan, you wouldn’t happen to have that little friend of yours with you, would you?” Eric asked, his expression a mixture of curiosity and expectation.
“Little friend.” She had no idea what he meant. “What little friend?”
“You know the rubber one somebody left for you at the last race in Sunflower, Kansas.”
“Oh, yeah, I do. It’s in the hauler.” She couldn’t help but be inspired. One of the few things racers liked almost as much as racing were the practical jokes they played on each other. Someone had lef t it for her a couple years ago with a note attached saying she’d need one to run with the big boys. Initially it embarrassed her, but she’d gotten over it. Later on she’d discovered by chance O’Bannon was the culprit. Then she’d kept it around for laughs. And as a reminder of just how good she’d need to be.
“It looks like Jim’s busy for a few minutes. Can you run and get it?”
“Great idea. Watch my stuff.” Blake the cameraman started to walk with her, filming every step. She winked at him and smiled coyly. “Might I have a moment to myself?”
Blake laughed from behind his camera, “Sure, just don’t let anything happen without me.”
“I promise,” she yelled as she jogged quickly to her trailer.
Not even out of breath, Morgan made it back to the pit wall just in time to hear Butch issue instructions.
“Just like all the other challenges, lady and gentlemen, this one is straight up. You’ll each have ten warm up laps and then put down your three timed laps. The fastest average times win. Be sure to use all the safety gear the crew chiefs
The heat in his eyes cooled, his lips formed a determined line and his hands went into his pockets. He backed away from her like she had the plague.
A brief salute to his brow, a nod and he was gone. Driving away like the devil herself chased him.
Shaking legs would no longer hold her up, so Morgan sat down hard on the steps, letting the cool darkness soothe her.
Stunned at her feral reaction, she touched her lips with tender fingertips and tasted the salt tang of blood. She wondered how long it would take for the rest of her body to turn into a pile of smoking ash.
Chapter 10
Morning sun, rising over the grandstands, gilded the remaining five contestants with golden strokes. It warmed them as they waited on the pit wall for Butch Cameron and his entourage.
A restless night made Morgan push her sunglasses up snug to hide her tired eyes from the seeking sun and the cameras. She tried not to think about last evening’s escapade with Tyler and what it might or might not mean, ground she’d already covered thoroughly in the early pre-dawn hours.
She couldn’t figure out which was worse, the fact that his kiss had touched her in ways none ever had, or the part she really hated—he’d left her aroused and wanting more. Either way, she pushed it to the back of her mind for later. For now, she had work to do.
“Hey Eric, you ready for all of this?” Morgan stood behind the other contestants as they sat on the wall. Each had brought some of their own personal safety gear. Helmets rested next to them like a row of turtle shells, with gloves tucked inside waiting to be used.
“Oh yeah. I’m ready. You?”
“More than.” Morgan scanned the area and noted the absence of one of them.
“Where’s Jim?”
Eric and Kyle rolled their eyes at her, with Kyle speaking first. “Where do you think he is? He’s right where his brown-nosing butt fits best.”
Butch appeared from around the corner of the garage, headed toward them, followed closely by his wife, Lacey, and an animated Jim O’Bannon.
Gesturing with his hands and talking a blue streak, Jim brimmed with self-importance. He thought he could win this contest by the force of his personality alone.
“What a jerk. Hey, Morgan, you wouldn’t happen to have that little friend of yours with you, would you?” Eric asked, his expression a mixture of curiosity and expectation.
“Little friend.” She had no idea what he meant. “What little friend?”
“You know the rubber one somebody left for you at the last race in Sunflower, Kansas.”
“Oh, yeah, I do. It’s in the hauler.” She couldn’t help but be inspired. One of the few things racers liked almost as much as racing were the practical jokes they played on each other. Someone had lef t it for her a couple years ago with a note attached saying she’d need one to run with the big boys. Initially it embarrassed her, but she’d gotten over it. Later on she’d discovered by chance O’Bannon was the culprit. Then she’d kept it around for laughs. And as a reminder of just how good she’d need to be.
“It looks like Jim’s busy for a few minutes. Can you run and get it?”
“Great idea. Watch my stuff.” Blake the cameraman started to walk with her, filming every step. She winked at him and smiled coyly. “Might I have a moment to myself?”
Blake laughed from behind his camera, “Sure, just don’t let anything happen without me.”
“I promise,” she yelled as she jogged quickly to her trailer.
Not even out of breath, Morgan made it back to the pit wall just in time to hear Butch issue instructions.
“Just like all the other challenges, lady and gentlemen, this one is straight up. You’ll each have ten warm up laps and then put down your three timed laps. The fastest average times win. Be sure to use all the safety gear the crew chiefs
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