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She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and bite down, her cheeks pink, eyes glowing under the pit lights. All my favorite memories I have of this girl is under the orange glow of a track and dirt clinging to her skin. For some reason, I thought about all the times we’d been here before, the two of us in the pits after a race, struggling to find meaning in our relationship that had very much formed on the cushion. Up high where we were out of control and holding out hope the top keeps its grip.
In the background amongst the fans and crew guys celebrating the win with us, I could hear the faint rumblings of “Bad Boys” playing in my hauler. Lane grinned and handed me a beer. “You earned this one.”
I took the beer from him, keeping one arm around Arie. “Don’t drink too much,” she told me when I refused to allow an inch of space between us.
“Why?” Keeping one eye on her, I cracked the beer open with one hand and then took a drink. “Got something in mind for later?”
“I got a hotel room for us. Mom is going to watch the kids.”
“Let’s go now.”
She held onto my forearms. “There’s time for that later.” Her eyes moved to the pits where the guys were celebrating around me. “Let’s enjoy this.”
I was all for celebrating the win, but I wanted to be alone with Arie more than I cared about winning that night. One thing was certain.
With Arie beside me, I became aware of the fact that we’d been apart for too long. Every look, every touch and every sigh told me so. I could practically smell her arousal and it did nothing for my attention to the ones around me. I wanted my wife. Alone. I didn’t think I could take much more when her eyes would meet mine, and slowly travel down my body, stopping at all the places I knew she wanted to worship.
Just when I was thinking I couldn’t take much more of it, she smiled into my shoulder and whispered, “You ready to celebrate the win?”
“You have no idea,” I groaned into her ear and yanked her against my chest.
Casten laughed beside us, shoving my shoulder when I kissed Arie in front of everyone. “Get a room. I don’t need to see you fucking my sister.”
Lifting my head, I glared at him. “I didn’t say anything to you when you and Hayden had sex in the backseat of Jameson’s truck the other night. So shut the fuck up.”
His eyes widened, anger surfacing. “You said you were asleep.”
“I wasn’t.” And to really piss him off, because I did not appreciate that they did that when my wife was away, I looked over at Jameson talking to Caden. “Hey, boss man.” Jameson looked up and Arie started laughing beside me. “Casten and Hayden fucked in your truck in the pits of Skagit.”
Across from us, Hayden threw her beer at me. “You fuck face. You said you wouldn’t say anything.”
I shrugged, refusing to let go of Arie, despite the beer soaking my foot now. “I lied.”
Jameson scowled at Casten, and then Hayden. “Are you fucking serious? I gave you one rule to follow with my truck.” He raised his index finger dramatically. “One rule.”
Pace, Knox, Gray and Ryder were climbing in and out of the sprint cars, watched the interaction between everyone but lost interest quickly. Thank God. Although Gray eyed her parents a little curiously, as if she knew what we were talking about, but didn’t have the guts to ask.
Sway stood between Jameson and Casten, her hands on Jameson’s chest. “Honey, remember your parent’s kitchen table?”
His eyes moved to hers. “That’s different. He’s fucking thirty years old. He shouldn’t be doing that shit.”
“No, not really. It’s worse,” she pointed out. “And Arie’s just turned thirty. Casten is twenty-seven.”
“Clearly I’m aging quickly,” Casten added. “And I’m just following the parental example set for me,dirty heathen.”
Jameson pushed against Sway, trying to grab Casten by his racing suit. “You little fucker.”
Axel burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Dude, you don’t want to go there. You haven’t followed a parental examples your entire life.”
Casten grinned. “You’re probably right.”
Laughter moved through the pits.
As I stood there in victory lane, surrounded by my family in friends, I thought about what Jameson had said to me in his truck that day. Track conditions had changed but I found a new set up. Dirt driven.
“HOW’S YOUR HAND?” Arie asked when we made it inside the hotel room.
I flopped myself onto the bed, groaning. “You have a lot of making up to do.”