Flame (Fire on the Mountain #2) (12 page)

El Pinto Mexican food restaurant is the fucking bomb. A combination of gorgeous, sprawling hacienda-style ambiance, delicious authentic New Mexico cuisine, mouth-watering pitchers of house fresh margaritas, and a fun-loving, exuberant group of people sitting with me around a patio table. My cheeks hurt from the permanent smile that’s been stamped across my face since the moment we stepped under the vine-covered arch and through the glass double doors. After several big O’s on the trek down here, and then this phenomenal meal, I’d have to say my impromptu summer road trip has started out a tremendous success.

“So you seriously know nothing about motocross or dirt bikes? You’ve never seen anything on TV like X-Games? Red Bull X-Fighters? Metal Mulisha? You don’t have any brothers into this stuff?” Gunner gawks at me in utter disbelief while the four of us finish our last drinks at the restaurant before heading back to Sandia Motocross Park, where the bus is parked.

Tapping my chin, I pretend to think for a moment then shake my head. “I mean I’m familiar with what the X-Games are. I
do
live in Colorado, the winter action sports mecca, but I don’t know anything specifically about motocross other than you ride a motorcycle on a dirt track stupidly fast and do crazy-ass stunts while flying through the air.”

Emilia bursts out laughing at my oversimplified explanation of what her husband and Levi do for a living, but the two guys are still in shock at my revelation. It’s like they’ve never met anyone else who isn’t up to date on all their lingo and shit.
I should’ve never asked why people made that braaappp noise at the wedding . . .

“Oh, and I do have one brother,” I add, “but he’s eight and likes to snowboard in the winter and fish in the summer. If any of my sisters were into dirt bikes, it’d be Juno. She’s the athletic one—but softball and volleyball are more her thing.”

Another peculiar look from Gunner. “How many sisters do you have?”

“Five. There are seven of us total. All from the same parents, who yes, are still married.” I answer the questions I know are coming before he even asks. Everyone is always intrigued by the size of my family, especially in this day and age. “My family is a little . . .
unconventional
.”

“A little?” Emilia scoffs. “You call your parents by their first names, and you grew up on a weed farm! You’ve got the coolest fucking family ever. Plus, you all look like Barbie dolls! When I used to dream about running away from home, I either wanted to be a trapeze artist in the circus or a Shavell sister.”

Snickering, I wrap my lips around my straw and suck in the chilled, tangy strawberry margarita. “Either way, you would’ve been joining a circus. There’s never a dull moment in a house with ten people in it.”

“Sunshine,” Levi leans over to me, resting his hand on the inside of my thigh, right below the frayed hem of my shorts, “I promise I want to learn all about your family. They sound cool as fuck—especially the part about the weed farm—but can we get back to where you said motocross is driving fast and doing stupid, crazy-ass stunts while flying through the air? ’Cause if you’re gonna be my girl on this trip, we need to give you a crash course tonight in all things motocross, so you can truly appreciate my awesomeness when you see me in action.”

I blink hard.
His girl?
Did he already dip his grubby hand into Grams’ special cookies?

“Hulk,” I lift my hand up to cradle his chin, bringing my face close to his, “I’ve already appreciated your awesomeness in action earlier today, and it had nothing to do with dirt bikes. So unless you want to show me how you can eat
dessert
on one, I’ll pass on the crash course and embrace my lingo ignorance.”

His eyes grow wide at my suggestion, and suddenly, the space between my mouth and his is gone, obliterated by a searing, possessive kiss. My lips part on a quick inhale of surprise, and he takes full advantage of my momentary vulnerability, sliding his tongue into my mouth to tangle with mine.

Everyone and everything around us fades away while his hypnotic lips move over mine. The world could come crashing down all around us right now, and the only thing I’d be concerned about is how to prolong the mind-boggling way he makes me feel each time he kisses me. It’s like the first time every time. Pounding heart. Trembling hands. Fluttering belly. Sizzling core.

“Dude, I’d say get a room, but unfortunately, I’ve gotta hear you in there too,” Gunner jokes when we break apart.

I laugh a little too hard, a little too loud, still off kilter from the head rush. My body is on fire. Abruptly, I stand and announce the need to use the ladies’ room, hoping some cold water splashed on my face will cool me down. Unfortunately, when I meet them out at the Suburban five minutes later and see Levi is waiting to open the door for me, my inner thermostat cranks back up. Chivalry is fucking sexy.

After we return to where the bus is parked behind the arena, the four of us all go inside to freshen up before heading over to watch the locals race. I choose to leave on the shorts and tanks I’ve had on all day. There’s no point in making more laundry than needs to be done, especially when I look pretty fucking hot in it, if I do say so myself. A quick brush of my hair and teeth, a spritz or two of citrus body splash, and a single coat of my favorite lip gloss, and I’m ready to go. Emilia does something similar, staying in the clothes she’s had on, but the guys both change into shirts associated with their sponsors. Gunner’s is bright red with a big-ass fox head, where Levi’s is black, the color and logo matching the outside of the bus. Right before we step back out into the dry evening air, he grabs a ball cap and pulls it down on his head then grabs my hand and pulls me along with him into the parking lot filled with comparable setups to ours.

Lumbering across the black asphalt to the track entrance, Levi’s hand still holding tightly onto mine, a tiny stream of nervousness trickles down my back. I’ve never been to anything like this, and I truly have no idea of what to expect. For someone who usually doesn’t give a fuck about what people think about her, why do I suddenly care so much about what this guy I barely know thinks of me? Why is it important he’s proud of me in some way? Why now?

As we draw closer, the sliver of anxiousness is washed away by the massive wave of stimulants flooding my senses. The static hum of crowd noise plays background accompaniment to the music of revving motors, each a different pitch, alternating back and forth like dueling pianos. The grease from freshly deep-fried carnival cuisine hangs heavy in the tepid night as the temperatures begin to slowly drop, now that the sun has said her daily farewell. Finally, the smell of burning rubber mixed with the earth and leather reminds me of Levi up close, except it’s missing his crisp, cocky conviction that has a scent all its own.

Squeezing my hand, he stops walking just before we get to the gate, causing the three of us to pull up short as well. His face grows the most serious I’ve ever seen it. “You stay with me tonight. All night,” he commands me gruffly. “There’s gonna be a lot of people around us, but I don’t want you separated. I’ll show you and Emmy Sue where you’ll sit tomorrow night during the exhibition. You don’t leave her sight. For any reason. You aren’t to be alone.”

I open my mouth to argue, to tell him he’s lost his damn mind if he thinks he can tell me what I can or can’t do, but before I get out a word, he bends down, eliminating the foot-plus height difference between us, and kisses my forehead. “Sunshine, dudes are all gonna fantasize about fucking you the second they see your sexy ass, ’cause they’re jealous of me and you’re way out of their league. The track rats are all gonna talk shit, ’cause the dudes are all fantasizing about fucking you, and ’cause they’re jealous of you and I’m out of their league. Smile, be polite, but ignore all of them. The only people who matter are the four of us, and Rhino when he joins us in New Orleans.”

“But you can’t—” I begin, but this time he cuts me off with his lips on mine.

“I’m not trying to be a bossy dick, Dakota,” he murmurs against my mouth. My brain struggles to make sense of his words, and I concentrate on not climbing his body like a sex-starved tree monkey when he says my real name, “but I don’t want to worry about my girl. And if I don’t know where you are, you’re really gonna see my inner Hulk. Don’t be stubborn about this. Ask Emmy Sue what it’s like.” He tips his head in her direction and she nods hard, emphatically backing up his claims of mob madness. “Plus, this will be the smallest venue we ride at, so it’ll only get crazier as we get closer to the Games. You’re here with me, and I’m gonna keep you safe. Got it?”

Rolling my bottom lip back and forth between my teeth, I can’t decide if this alpha thing is adorable or annoying. I’ve never met anyone who pulled at both ends of that spectrum quite like Levi does. In most instances, if some guy tried this machismo shit with me, I’d already be on my way to the airport, booking the next flight home. I’m the boss of me. But for some inexplicable, and slightly unnerving, reason, when he does it, I get all tingly between my legs and my heart bangs like a wild bird trying to escape its cage.

“Sunshine, do you have any questions before we go inside?” His deep voice pulls me out of my head and back to Earth.

“Yeah.” I grin playfully. “What’s a track rat?”

MONDAY, JUNE 18

THERE’S SOMETHING IN THOSE PRESCRIPTIONS
I’m taking that’s fucking with my testosterone levels. It has to be that. It’s the only explanation I can come up with for why I’ve become a possessive caveman overnight. And if that clinic fucked up and gave me something with a steroid in it after I provided them the list of drugs I can’t take while on tour, I’m going to be one pissed off, hostile caveman to boot.

My hard gaze is locked on the door of the women’s bathroom, where Dakota and Emmy Sue are, waiting for them to emerge. Even when the two of them are together, it makes me a little nervous. I’ve always felt a little protective over Emmy Sue when we were on the road in the past, but since she’s Gunner’s woman, I left it up to him to take care of his business. Didn’t want to overstep my place.

But with Dakota here now too, it’s a different game. I may not know much about the blonde beauty sharing my bed right now, but it doesn’t fucking matter. She’s in
my
bed. And as long as she’s there, she’s
my
responsibility. All fucking
mine.

See? Complete caveman.

Maybe there’s a reason I’ve never done the relationship thing before, not even a temporary one like this. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, and it’s already fucking with my head. And my head is fucked up enough as it is.

“Levi, sweetie, I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow.” A pretty brunette with an abundance of cleavage sidles up next to me and loops her arms around my waist, raising up to kiss my cheek. She makes a point of pressing her plump, au naturel boobs against my arm, as if I don’t know what those babies feel like heavy in my hands. “I thought you were still at Gunner’s wedding.”

“Hey, JoJo.” I give her shoulders a quick squeeze then release her and take a step back. Glancing over at the bathroom door, there’s still no sign of the girls. “We, uh, we all left Colorado this morning, pulled in late this afternoon. Haven’t been here too long.” I’m stammering and rambling like a fucking idiot.