Page 42 of Checkered Hearts (Racing to Romance #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

ROCCO AND NICO

R occo downshifted the Aston Martin to slow down as they approached yet another small cobblestoned village. The snowcapped mountain peaks lay ahead in the distance, but they loomed larger now that they were closer. Soon they would look as though you could reach out and touch them.

He glanced over at Nico, who was gazing out the window at the passing landscape.

“Do you need to—want to stop?” he asked.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”

Was she? Fine? She’d been quiet the entire drive.

She looked fine, he thought, glancing over at her and shifting in his seat, feeling that telltale tug in his pants.

This was bad. Real bad. It wasn’t as though she was wearing anything sexy.

She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants.

Even so as he pulled on his jeans, which were becoming unbearably tight, he wished she were wearing something else.

Like what?

Maybe a tent.

“Do you mind if I open the window?” she asked, pulling at the bulky collar of her sweatshirt. “It’s hot.”

It is.

“No, that’s fine.” He inhaled and exhaled so heavily he spotted her looking over at him out of the corner of his eye.

Once they’d passed through the village, he shifted up to sixth gear.

What had he been thinking? Was this a mistake? How in hell was he going to sleep under the same roof knowing she was in the room next to his?

Of course, they’d be in separate bedrooms. They weren’t a couple. As far as the world and his family were concerned, they were teammates. And only teammates.

He knew why he’d asked her. He wanted to be with her.

But now he felt how badly he wanted to be with her alone .

How was that possible with his family around?

It wasn’t. But he couldn’t not visit his family.

They were expecting him. Maybe he could cut short the stay with them and go somewhere else with Nico. Alone.

He opened his window even though the car was moving at top speed and the wind was equivalent to a snowball hitting his face.

That snowball might as well have been the cold, hard truth.

His desire for her wasn’t the only reason he’d asked her.

He didn’t like hearing that she’d be alone.

Didn’t like? It was more than that. It hurt—physically hurt—when Charles had told him.

Yes, he wanted to be alone with her. But if that’s all he’d wanted, he could have found time during the break to do that without inviting her to come to his family home.

I must want her to know them. Want them to know her.

He groaned.

Damn it.

He silenced himself quickly, glancing over to see if she’d noticed.

It didn’t seem as though she had. She was still gazing out that window. She didn’t seem to mind that snowball in the face either.

She was so quiet.

What is she thinking?

The quiet had to have something to do with why she’d resisted saying yes . He knew she’d wanted to come, but something was holding her back. What? Was it because they were teammates? It wasn’t as though he hadn’t thought about that.

I’m still thinking about it.

What will this look like when racing starts up again?

But it was more than that with her. There was something else. He could tell.

That scar. Is it that scar?

When I touched it, she turned into a block of ice .

He could literally feel her slip away at that moment.

They were approaching the turnoff onto the small country road that led directly to the village. Before they got to it, he swerved right, pulling off to the side.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he parked the car.

They were surrounded by trees. The mountains loomed, looking much closer now, and a creek threaded its way through the greenery.

“We have to walk the rest of the way,” he said before getting out of the car.

The walk will be good. For her. And for me.

If it didn’t manage to get his crankshaft to lie down, at least it would make it less squirrelly.

“How far?” she asked once she was out of the car.

“About five miles or so,” he said, opening the trunk.

“What?!”

“It’s the only way to get there.”

He was glad he had an empty backpack in the trunk. He grabbed some stuff from his suitcase and tossed the items in.

“Okay,” he said, “now you.”

She sighed, pulling some things out and putting them in the backpack.

She pulled out a large T-shirt and a pair of baggy sweats.

More sweats?

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“Sleeping,” she said, stuffing it in the backpack.

“Where’s the thing you were wearing this morning?”

It was a pale lavender short kind of slip. And sheer. A fact she’d clearly forgotten when she’d jumped out of bed earlier that morning and stood beside Charles, gazing down at him as he lay on the floor of her hotel room.

“I didn’t pack it.”

“I did,” he said rummaging through her things. He’d grabbed it and threw it in her suitcase, stuffing it under the other items when she wasn’t looking. He pulled it out. “Here it is,” he said, smiling.

Her eyes opened wide as she stared at it. Glaring at him, she snatched it and threw it back in her suitcase. “I don’t need that.”

He went behind her back, grabbed it, and shoved it in the backpack when she wasn’t looking.

Once they had everything, he shut the trunk and slung the pack on his back, and they set off.

“There’s no road you can drive on that takes you to the town?” she asked, hurrying after him.

“Just a walking path. It’s really small, not even a village, really. More of a hamlet.”

“So, when your parents want to leave, they have to walk this far to get to their car?”

He hesitated. “More or less.”

Most of the time, they walked a clear trail. But sometimes it disappeared, and she stumbled over a root or rock. But that was her own fault. Instead of watching where she was going, she was staring at Rocco’s ass and wondering if he had those dimples above it.

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder. “Tired?”

“No,” she huffed.

“Why don’t you finish the fairy tale you were telling me? It’ll help pass the time.”

Okay , she thought, gritting her teeth and wanting to smack that ass.

Hard.

She thought a moment, recalling where she’d left off, and then chuckled.

“The hours passed,” she began. “The days and nights and the seasons too. And the little prince’s head kept growing. It was making it more and more difficult to move. Soon he was unable to run and race; even walking had become difficult.”

Rocco stopped and turned around. “Really?”

Nico smiled. “Yes, really.”

She flitted her hand like she was shooing away a fly, and he resumed walking.

“There were no laws in the kingdom. The people did as they pleased. Life was good, everyone—happy. As a result, no harm was ever committed, and they had no need for laws. But now the king and queen made a proclamation. If the little prince could not run or race, no one would run or race. From thenceforth, running and racing was forbidden.”

Rocco stopped so suddenly, she ran into him.

“No racing?! Come on!”

Nico bit her lip to keep from laughing and shrugged. “That’s what happened.”

“What do you mean that’s what happened? You’re making the story up, so it doesn’t have to happen.”

“That’s. What. Happened. Now do you want me to finish the story or not?”

“Is it going to have a happy ending?”

She chuckled.

“Go on,” he said gruffly as he turned around and continued walking.

“The people in the kingdom went about their daily lives much as they had before, but something had changed. They felt less joy. What’s more, the little prince could hardly be called little anymore.

His head was becoming so enormous it was too big for the doorways, hallways, and passages of the castle.

Everything had to be renovated and fitted to accommodate the little prince’s head, which was extremely difficult, given his head continued to swell.

“This put the king and queen in a bad temper. The women of the court were unhappy as well. They used to love to do things for the little prince. But now, bathing and dressing him had become very difficult with his overgrown head. What’s more, the little prince, who once had been so charming, had now become ill-tempered.

It was unpleasant to be around him, unpleasant to even look at him with that swollen head. ”

Again, Nico nearly ran into Rocco when he stopped. He peered at her. His jaw was rigid, and he’d clenched his fists. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He drew a deep breath and only turned around and resumed walking once he’d exhaled.

“One day,” she went on, “there was a big commotion when a stranger arrived. No one had ever visited the remote kingdom, given it was so far away and difficult to get to.

“The little prince was curious. He ordered the stranger to come to the castle. But the stranger didn’t come. So, he decided to venture outside the castle in search of the stranger.

“He had to walk because his head had made him too heavy for the horses.

It took him awhile because it was difficult to balance his head on his neck.

Often his head toppled to one side, and his body was left to follow so that rather than walking in a straight line, he was forced to take a zigzag path.

“When he finally arrived in the village, he asked a villager where he could find the stranger. ‘There,’ the villager said, pointing the stranger out to him. But the stranger ran past him so quickly, the little prince only caught sight of a blur.

“He was angry. ‘Running! Racing!’ he cried. ‘Running and racing are forbidden! There’s to be no running! No racing!’

“The little prince took off after the stranger, but his heavy head bobbled back and forth so violently that he hadn’t gone even three steps before he tumbled, and it required twenty villagers to carry him back to the castle.

“Once again he ordered the stranger to come to the castle, but the stranger didn’t come.”

Rocco turned around. “Tell me now, is there going to be a happy ending or not?”

She smiled. “Yes, there will be a happy ending.”

“Oh, okay.”