Slow Ride by Erin McCarthy Page A

willing wenches.”
    Her expression turned curious and slightly aroused. “Oh. Well, hold that thought for later. Right now I have a horse to cheer on.”
    “You go at it.” He was just going to sit down, rest his knee, and watch her. It was an oddly satisfying occupation. Tuesday was always animated, always moving, her sleek dark hair sliding over her shoulders. She was a touchy-feely kind of person. She was always touching someone’s arm, or back, or leaning in close. At the moment, it was his aunt and uncle who were on the receiving end of her attentions, and Diesel was pleased that she seemed to like them, and vice versa.
    He was feeling perfectly content until Ellie shifted into the chair next to him. “Really?” she said to him, disdain in her voice. “This is who you chose over me?”
    Awkward. He had to say he wasn’t big on this kind of confrontation. What exactly did Ellie expect him to say?
    “It’s not a competition.”
    “Of course it is.”
    Ellie was a buxom brunette who worked hard to maintain her body and her tan. She was an attractive woman, but too damn aggressive for Diesel’s tastes. He glanced around, hoping someone would interrupt them and save him from the conversation.
    No such luck. His aunt and uncle were standing behind Tuesday, their heads together, while Tuesday was jumping up and down, a bunch of chips in her hand.
    “Life is a competition, Diesel. You should know that, given your prior career.”
    He wasn’t sure what her point was, exactly. “You and I don’t have a lot in common, Ellie.”
    Her eyebrows shot up. “You know, you would think that you would appreciate the fact that I don’t care that you have no job. Most women aren’t going to want a washed-up driver.”
    It was a total kick in the nuts he wasn’t prepared for. Diesel sat there, stunned, for a second. Hell, he knew there were plenty of women who went after men strictly because they were drivers. But he’d never really translated that to mean women wouldn’t be interested in him at all. That he was perceived as unemployed.
    There were plenty of days he felt that way himself, but it wasn’t at all pleasant to hear someone else say it out loud.
    It took him a second, but he forced himself to produce a casual and careless tone of voice. “That’s very generous of you. But I’m still not interested.”
    Ellie shoved her chair back, her breasts bouncing in her low-cut tank top. She glanced over at Tuesday. “You’re too boring for her you know. You’ll never be able to keep her.”
    Throw a little goddamn salt right into the wound.
    Diesel hadn’t even really understood his reservations about Tuesday and now Ellie had managed to point them straight out to him. That was helpful. Not.
    He was boring. He was a washed-up driver. He wouldn’t be able to keep a woman as vibrant as Tuesday interested in him.
    Staring after Ellie, who had taken her purse and walked away from the table, Diesel was too busy brooding to notice the outcome of the race until Tuesday waved her hand in front of his face.
    “What are you staring at? Did you see that? Jolly Ranger brought it home, baby!”
    Diesel forced himself to shove aside the doubts Ellie had just planted and fake a smile for Tuesday. “Congrats, that’s awesome. Guess you can pick ’em.”
    Without warning, she dropped into his lap. “You know it. I rule at horse picking. I mean, picking the winning horses.”
    Her tight backside wiggled a little on his thighs as she settled into a comfortable position. Diesel had no idea what to make of her treating him like her personal folding chair. “These are pre-taped. Maybe you’ve already seen this race.”
    He didn’t think for one minute that was the case, but he figured he would enjoy her reaction. Indignation from her would also be easier to deal with than her snuggling into him in public. He had to admit, he wasn’t one for displays of affection around the masses. Especially given that he never brought women