Chapter 11
Drew
We might have been a little cautious about having this party with a nutjob still on the loose, but as I stood there in the midst of our family laughing, smiling, and stuffing their faces (mostly Arrow), I couldn’t deny that being with family is never a bad idea.
I also couldn’t help but wonder how the hell I had a seventeen-year-old son.
Like, what? I might have a few grays, but I still had a lot of miles left on these tires. Even if they were changing direction.
A seventeen-year-old and retirement.
This year was shaping up to be a banger.
It didn’t feel like an end, though, or a clock winding down.
If anything, I felt invigorated by the possibilities ahead.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do yet, which side street I would turn onto.
For once, I wasn’t speeding somewhere but was willing to check out the scenery instead of flying by it.
Maybe I’d take Gamble up on a job at the NRR. Maybe I’d become a coach or a sponsor. Maybe I’d go back to something with computers—nah, probably not. The office and tie gig was not the life for me.
Maybe I’d become a stay-at-home dad and bake pies. I was already an expert at reindeer food.
Hell, I could buy a diner and serve up the best fries in town.
Now that had some possibilities.
From track master to fry master. Hells yeah.
Trent broke away from Arrow and Hopper and started toward me.
His jeans were well-worn and molded around his thighs, the edge of the pocket near his hip frayed, loose strings waving as he walked.
The hem of the open vintage Adidas jacket Ivy had come home with one day fluttered back to reveal the thick white T-shirt molded against his waist.
Forget what I said about all those possibilities. They were nothing at all compared to the certainty of him.
Noting the way I practically ate him with my eyes, his darkened, the lines at the corners deepening. He paused long enough to set down the plastic cup in his hand, the air between us crackling with chemistry as his palms slid over the sides of my waist to envelop my back.
“You keep looking at me like that and we’ll never make it to the cake,” he said in a shiver-inducing tone.
Gliding my palms upward over his pecs, I looped my arms around his neck and laid my forehead against his. “Then stop walking around like that.”
He arched a brow. “Like what?”
“More enticing than a French fry.”
His eyes did that crinkle thing again, and my stomach swooped. “That’s high praise from a fry monster like you.”
“You gonna kiss me or what?”
“Oh… I’m… gonna,” he murmured, lips brushing mine with every syllable before settling completely.
Humming in appreciation, I tangled my fingers in the short strands of hair at the base of his skull, tugging him that much tighter against me. T moaned, the sound vibrating my tongue, and I swallowed it down, letting it echo into my belly.
His tongue tasted like punch and mine like beer, two flavors that did not go together but were suddenly my new favorite combo. Trent’s hands slid from my back to my ass, tucking into the pockets on my jeans. He gave a whole new meaning to that saying pocket full of sunshine.
A high-pitched whistle interfered with my good time, and Trent chuckled into the kiss. When he retreated, I growled and tried to pull him back, but he just grabbed my hands and kissed them quickly, eyes dancing with happiness. “I am one lucky bastard.”
I shook my head once, forcing the words through a hoarse throat. “I’m the lucky one.”
“Who’s the one-upper now?” he mused.
Romeo appeared, slapping Trent on the back. “The driver is on his way down from the gate,” he said.
My addled mind cleared, and I glanced over my shoulder, but the truck wasn’t in sight yet. “Now?”
“If we waited until you were done making out, the car would be rusted over,” Romeo drawled.
Trent twisted around. “I thought Lorhaven was escorting him down.”
“He’s already up there,” Romeo mused. “He texted to say they were coming.”
Trent nodded. “I’ll gather everyone up.”
Romeo’s teeth flashed. “B already did that.”
Upon our surprised looks, Romeo pointed toward the entire fam, which had already gathered around Braeden. I guess he was the one who’d whistled.
Romeo leaned in to tease Trent. “Maybe we should call you Romeo.”
Trent pushed his head away. “Oh, fuck off, Rome. You know you and Rimmel are just as bad.”
Laughing, he threw an arm around each of our shoulders, squeezing his big-ass frame in the middle. “Does this make me the filling in a Trent and Drew sandwich?” he wondered as we walked toward the group.
“Dude. You hang out with Braeden too much,” I told him, pushing his arm off me and then shoving it off Trent. He could get his own man.
Romeo cackled as Lorhaven’s Corvette crested the hill. It was an old model like the one he’d totaled in a race way back in the day.
T and I went to the front of the group where Trav was standing beside Gamble.
“What’s going on?” he asked the second he saw us.
“Grampy here got you a bougie birthday gift,” I wisecracked.
“Call me Grampy again and see what happens,” Gamble retorted.
The flatbed truck appeared, a single black SUV clearly on the back.
Travis straightened, eyes following the truck like it was raining money. “Are you serious?” he asked, wide eyes flying to Trent and then me.
I nodded. “Maybe you should ask your grandfather.”
Ripping his eyes off the approaching vehicles, Travis turned to Gamble. “Grandad?”
Gamble’s lips turned up a little at the corners, his eyes warming. “Figured I’d get you a car since your dads never have.”
“We just want him to be ready,” I muttered.
“He’s ready,” Gamble announced. Laying his hand on Trav’s shoulder, he said, “It’s not a race car, but it’s loaded and big enough to haul your football gear and a few friends.”
Lorhaven pulled off into the grass and parked while the truck slowed to a stop a few feet away.
“Holy shit, is that a Bronco?” Blue exclaimed.
“Language!” all the adults admonished.
“It’s a Black Diamond Bronco,” Gamble confirmed.
The driver got out of the cab and walked toward the back to unload the SUV. Travis stood there speechless.
“Well, go on. Go tell me if you like it.”
All the kids ran toward it, staring at it from beside the lowering flatbed.
“It’s awesome!” Jax yelled.
“Look at those rims!” Jagger put in.
Lorhaven laughed.
I mean, it was pretty decent for a non-race car. A good choice for driving around with his sister, I guess.
And it was a Ford.
Travis jogged back, stopping in front of Gamble. “You really got that for me?”
“Hm.” He agreed. “But you gotta keep your grades up. And no getting in trouble. Just because I gave it to you doesn’t mean your dads can’t take it away.”
Travis plowed into Gamble, the older man rocking back on his heels. Trent and I moved to jump forward, afraid they were going down, but Gamble waved us off.
“Thank you, Grandad,” Travis said against his shoulder. “I promise I’ll take care of it.”
“I know you will.” He was gruff. “You’re a good kid. You deserve it.”
Damn. Did some pollen just blow in? Maybe some ragweed? We needed to get a gardener out here pronto because suddenly my allergies were wild.
Trent grabbed the back of my neck, and I turned to look at him through blurred vision. T smiled and swiped beneath my eyes.
“Damn allergies,” I muttered.
“Grampy! I want a pink one when I turn seventeen!” Andi called.
I let out a cross between a laugh and a sob while everyone snickered.
“I’ll put it on order, sweet pea,” Gamble told her but then turned to me, eyes narrowed. “Look what you started.”
“You can always tell her not to call you that,” Trent advised.
Gamble made a rude sound. “I’ll just learn to live with it.”
I barked a laugh. “The great and powerful Gamble finally bested by an eleven-year-old.”
Gamble gave me a look that would make fresh paint peel and then turned away. Trent winked at me behind his back.
“I saw that,” he groused. Then, “Travis, what are you waiting for? Go look at the engine. I know you want to.” He tossed Trav a key fob and shooed him off.
Trav turned to go but then stopped, hesitated, and turned back. His eyes locked on me, and I tilted my head. “What’s up, Trav?”
“Do you want to come check it out with me?”
Damn ragweed. Nodding, I cleared my throat. “Ah, yeah. Of course.”
Travis turned to Trent. “You too, Dad?”
He nodded, and we started after our son. T glanced at me. “I think I need some allergy medicine.”
Listen, don’t laugh at us. Our son wanting us to be part of his big moment was special.
“That should do it,” the man unloading the Bronco said as we approached.
“Thank you,” Trent said, holding out his hand to shake. “Appreciate you bringing it all the way out here.”
“Just doing my job,” he said, making sure everything on the flatbed was in place. “If you wouldn’t mind moving it off to the side, I’ll just go up there and turn around and head out.”
“How about we take it for a spin?” I asked Travis.
“Yeah!”
“I’ll escort him off the property,” Trent said.
“No.” Lorhaven jumped into the conversation. “I got it. You go with them,” he said, gesturing to me and our son.
“You sure?”
“Crystal.”
“Josie, want to go for a ride?” Lorhaven called to his wife.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, jogging toward the Corvette.
Lorhaven grinned at us. “Looks like I got me a date.”
“Just make sure you do it off the street. There’s kids here,” I cracked.
He smirked. “You didn’t seem to mind two minutes ago when you were sucking face with—” The sound of Travis gagging cut off his words.
“I’ll make sure he gets off the property and the gate is latched.” Lorhaven redirected.
“Would you mind checking in with security out there too?” Trent asked, voice much lower than before.
“Will do,” Lorhaven replied just as quietly before jogging over to the Corvette.
The large flatbed started up, the rumbling engine loud.
I glanced around for Andi. She was with London and Sophie, throwing water balloons at the boys. “Peanut, you wanna go for a ride?”