Full Throttle (Fast Track) (17 page)

She knew what he meant. “Rhett,” she whispered, and the sweetness of his name on her lips broke his control.

He thrust deep and just said, “Shawn,” hoping she would understand that this was something different, something important happening between them. “Touch me.”

As he pushed in and out of her warmth, he expected her to lock her ankles behind his ass, to dig her nails into his back.

But she didn’t. Her legs stayed spread wide for him.

While her fingers reached up and stroked his cheeks.

It disarmed him entirely, that soft caress, her smooth hands cupping his face, while she mouthed his name in silence, the sentiment hitting him harder than when it had been torn from her on a shout.

Turning his head, he kissed her fingers, dragging one into his mouth, biting the tip before pulling it down onto the bed and intertwining her fingers with his. When the rush came, when he exploded inside her, their eyes never left each other, and Rhett knew that they had just crossed a line that couldn’t be taken back.

He didn’t want to take it back.

He wanted to stay there forever, bodies meshed together, emotions real and honest.

“SO
what is this, Take Your Hot Husband We Didn’t Know You Had to Work Day?” Linda asked Shawn Monday morning after she had introduced Rhett.

“Ha ha. I’m so glad my staff has such a sense of humor.”

Linda shrugged, looking remarkably not contrite. “Friday you left at noon single, or so I thought. You been hiding him in your bedroom?” She eyed Rhett over her reading glasses. “I know I would.”

Shawn was surprised that more than annoyance, what she was actually feeling was a prickling of pride that her accounts receivable employee thought her husband was hot stuff. Because the truth was, he was hot stuff. He was gorgeous, built, he focused on her in bed, and he made coffee.

He was a keeper.

And she had gone from being entirely freaked out to wondering if, in fact, this relationship could be something more than a matter of saving her track and getting some booty at the same time.

Maybe it was the afterglow, but she was feeling just fine, thank you very much. Nothing Linda said was going to irritate her. “Maybe I have,” she said airily.

Rhett gave her a sly smile, and she knew he was remembering exactly what she was—last night and this morning’s repeat performance. Her body still ached in places she didn’t know she could ache.

Linda snorted, and dropped her reading glasses down onto her ample chest. She was a feisty woman in her late fifties, and she favored cheetah prints and cherry-red hair dye. She had been working at Hamby as long as Shawn could remember. In fact, when Shawn was little, she had been in awe of Linda, who had seemed like an exotic bird, with her eighties shoulder pads and jumbo hair, lips shiny and red, eyes painted with glittery shadow. Now she was settled into her desk chair behind her computer, eyeballing Shawn with no small amount of curiosity. “So I never pegged you for being able to keep a secret, girl, but apparently you’ve been mum about your dating life. How did you meet?”

“Through Eve Monroe, my sister-in-law,” Rhett told her.

That was a bit of a stretch, but it could be true. Frankly, it would have only been a matter of time before they had crossed paths. The only reason they hadn’t was because Eve had been married to Nolan just a few months and she had been busy changing careers, and Shawn had been dealing with her grandfather’s illness. They hadn’t seen each other much lately, other than at book club, and never with Nolan’s family around.

“Hmm. Well, congratulations then,” Linda said, and that seemed to be the end of it. “So are you actually working today, or did you bring your man candy just for show and now you’re bugging?”

“I’m working, thank you very much. And his name is Rhett. Show a little respect,” she told Linda, but since she was grinning, the admonishment wasn’t going to have much impact. But she couldn’t help it. She was feeling, well, like a new bride. It was embarrassing, but she couldn’t stop it.

Linda rolled her eyes. “Sure thing, hon. I’m on it.”

“We’re having a party on Valentine’s Day, and you’re invited.”

“Open bar?” Linda asked.

“Cash bar.” There was no way in hell Shawn was paying for her friends and family to get liquored up and line dance to
Cotton-Eyed Joe
.

“What?” Linda was appalled.

“Maybe we can work something out,” Rhett said. “We’ll see how long the guest list is.”

They left Linda sputtering at her desk about the nerve of some people, and they went into Shawn’s office. Rhett closed the door firmly behind him and said, “Give me a kiss.”

“Another one?” she teased, though she was more than willing to comply. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him deeply. “Mmm. Wakes me up better than coffee.”

“I thought it was my cock pounding you that woke you up this morning.”

“That, too.” Her nipples hardened at the memory of how he had awakened her with kisses and a teasing hand over her breasts, her sex, dragging her out of sleep and into languid pleasure before entering her with a decisive thrust. “I don’t usually like Monday mornings, but then again, they’ve never started like that.”

He patted her backside with a familiarity that came from having seen and touched every inch of her, and Shawn felt perfectly comfortable in his arms. It was odd to think that she was more intimate, more connected, with a man she had known ten days than with a man she’d spent three years dating.

“We have a new tradition, then.”

Neither one of them mentioned that this was supposed to be temporary. They were clearly both determined to just enjoy it, and Shawn was willing to reside in Delusionville for a while longer. “Thanks for coming in with me on your day off.”

“I’m glad to. I want to see what you do, see the behind-the-scenes here at the track.”

She kissed him again, because she couldn’t seem to get enough of his lips. “Hm. Then I guess we’d better open this door back up and behave ourselves, or the only work that will get done today will be of a more personal nature.”

He sighed. “Alright, let’s get cracking.” He nudged her forward and opened the door back up. “But later we’ll pick back up where we left off.”

“I don’t doubt it for a minute,” she told him most sincerely. Then aware that several of her employees were craning their necks to gawk into her office, she went around her desk and sat down, indicating he take a seat himself. “So this is my cave, where I spend the majority of my time. Glamorous, isn’t it?”

“About as much so as the inside of a stock car.” Rhett settled into his chair and glanced around at her many stacks of papers, the old promo posters that had been tacked to the wall and were now faded. “So how is business?”

That was the crux of all her problems. “Business is slow. We’re two-bit in a crowded field. I hate to admit that, but it’s true. We run a variety of races, from vintage to moto to modifieds, but they’re local and regional. They don’t draw the big crowds, so we don’t get the big vendors or the big sponsors. No big dollars coming in from corporate, and ticket sales alone can’t turn a profit, nor can entry fees for drivers.” Shawn settled back in her chair, letting it swivel a little. “It’s hard for me to talk about this—it feels disloyal to Pops—but the truth is, racing has changed. This isn’t the seventies, when it was good ole boys throwing down on the track for shits and grins. This is about money. Survival.”

Rhett nodded. “I understand that, and I appreciate that you’re willing to discuss it with me. Family businesses are more than dollar signs or bricks and mortar. It’s a way of life. It’s about heart, not money.”

“Exactly.” She felt relief that he got it. Got her. “But heart won’t pay the electric bill, and I’m concerned that we’re losing ground every year. We won’t make it if I don’t make some changes.”

“You need to go national.” Rhett steepled his fingers in front of his chin and leaned toward her desk. “You need sanctioning from the big dogs.”

Shawn nodded. “With their stamp of approval, and the possibility of earning national points here, as well as a track title, we’ll pull bigger drivers, bigger sponsorships, bigger vendors. But I don’t even know where to begin with that. I’m not a wheeler and dealer. I’m not a public relations expert. I’ve basically been the events coordinator. Our staff is small. I don’t know where to start.”

“I don’t either. But I can guarantee Eve does. Didn’t you say she offered some recommendations for new hires?”

“Yes. I have to contact them and do some interviews. I feel like I’m in over my head, I’m not going to lie. We need a new website. New promo photos. Social media networking. We need to be modern if we want to succeed, while still holding on to the idea that Hamby is a family track, run by a family, for families to enjoy together.”

Rhett smiled. “I totally agree. And what better way to kick off the new season and a media blitz than with our wedding here at the track? Pit crew member marries track owner in a wedding attended by some of the hottest names in professional racing. The new Hamby Speedway dynasty. We’ll spin the shit out of it.”

Shawn started to get excited and nervous all at the same time. “But the hottest names in racing won’t be at our wedding, that I’m aware of. We said family and closest friends only.”

“I say we broaden the circle a bit. You grew up with Evan and Elec Monroe, and Evan was my boss. Eve will be there. I’ll invite Evan’s crew chief, since he and I worked together for two years, and he’s a fan favorite. Doesn’t your friend Harley work for Cooper Brickman? She can bring him as a date.”

The thought of Harley inviting her boss, one of the most notorious playboys on the driving circuit, as her date, made her laugh. “I think Harley would curl up like a pill bug if we suggested that. She does not like the spotlight.”

“But you get the idea.”

“We’re going to turn our wedding into a media blitz?” It made total sense, but somehow it offended her. It was a wedding, not a business opportunity. Except it wasn’t a real wedding, so she was clearly being ridiculous.

“Yes.” Rhett had a calculating look on his face that she recognized. It meant he was focused on the idea and was going to devote his energy to making it successful. “We’ll do this, Shawn. We make the track a success and your Pops will be proud, toasting you with a glass of whiskey up there in the racetrack in the sky.”

Her heart melted like ice cream in August. “Thanks, Rhett. I appreciate you helping me. You don’t have to, you know.”

“I don’t have to. I want to.” He smiled at her. “We’re in this together. You and me. I care about you.”

“I care about you, too,” she said.

Which was probably the greatest risk of all, but she was willing to take it.

 • • • 

RHETT
sat across the table from Shawn at a steak house, watching her cut her beef into bite-size pieces and eat them, her eyes sparkling, expression animated. He loved a woman who wasn’t afraid to eat some meat and potatoes. He loved the way she smiled at him, like he was the only person in the room. Except for when she would occasionally glance up at the TV to check the score on the Gamecocks basketball game playing over the bar.

He felt as if their landing in this situation, married, falling for each other, made about as much sense as a trapdoor in a canoe, but he wasn’t going to question it. He was just going to enjoy this time with her.

With his wife.

She gave a cheer as the Cocks got a three-point shot. “Did you go to college?” she asked.

“No. Some of my sisters did. But they paid for it themselves, and I didn’t have that much ambition, or more accurately, I didn’t care that much about school. I was already in vocational school by tenth grade, working on engines. I knew that’s what I wanted to do.” He had never regretted that choice. “I’m not cut out to sit behind a desk or work with people. I’m not really a people person.”

She laughed. “You act like you’re an ogre, which you most definitely are not. But it’s good that you understood yourself.”

“I did. I still do.” Rhett took a long swallow of his beer. “Did you ever want to do anything, like be a nurse or a flight attendant or something?” The image of her serving drinks to restless passengers was hard to conjure.

“Nah. I grew up at the track. It was a part of me. There was nothing else I wanted to do, even once I stopped racing.”

“Why did you stop racing?”

“I stopped winning.” Shawn grinned. “I may have had a bit of a problem with being too impulsive. You have to be more disciplined than I am.”

Rhett grinned right back at her. “Well, isn’t that what we’ve been working on? Your discipline?”

She blushed, like he knew she would, her eyes fluttering down briefly before meeting his again. She was the perfect mix of feminine and demure, yet strong and independent. She would hesitate, she would blush, but she always rose to the challenge. He found her to be the sexiest woman he’d ever met.

“Not the same thing, Ford.” She stuck her fork out at him. “And you shouldn’t speak to your elders that way.”

That cracked him up. “That’s not precisely how I think of you. In fact, it’s not even close.”

The waving fork came over to his plate and swiped some of his mashed potatoes. “Hey. Eat your own food.” Though he didn’t mind at all.

“Us old ladies need our food smashed up.”

“Why, do you have dentures?”

That had her hastening to say, “No, of course not.”

He laughed. “I know that, you dork.”

She made a face. “Okay, just verifying. I liked teasing you until it came to that. Then I realized I don’t actually want you to think of me as old, so why the hell am I bringing it up? Maybe I should bite some corn on the cob to prove it.”

“That’s going to prove you’re still young?” Her thought processes boggled his mind.

“No! It will prove I don’t have dentures.”

“Shawn, I’ve kissed you. I’ve slept beside you. I look at you a good portion of every day. I know you don’t have dentures. And even if you did, I would still think you’re hot as hell. Now, why are we talking about this?”

She didn’t answer that question. Instead, she said, “Hey, how come you’ve never had me give you a blow job?”

Rhett almost choked on his T-bone. She was killing him tonight. “Is this really the place to talk about it?”

She shrugged. “The acoustics suck in here. It’s louder than fight night at the honky-tonk. No one can hear us.”

“First of all, does it really bother you that you’re older than me? Do you feel like I’m not mature enough for you?” He was curious about that, given how frequently she’d brought up their age difference.

But she shook her head. “No, I think you’re actually very mature. In some ways, you have it together more than me because you never second-guess yourself. I guess it just seems like society cares about women being older. Maybe I’m bracing myself for the reactions I’m going to get. Maybe I need reassurance that you don’t care.”

“Why would I care? I don’t. Trust me. In fact, I like that you’re a woman in her thirties. You know yourself. Who gives a shit what other people think? They’re just jealous that you snagged a younger guy.” He winked at her.

She laughed. “Well, there is probably truth to that. I thought Linda was going to leap over her desk and lick you.”