Alison Kent - Fast, Furious and Forbidden

She increased the pressure of her lips on his, pulling him in, needing him nearer to have her way. His mouth was warm, tasting of butter and salt and yeasty beer. His hands holding hers above her head were possessive and strong, and being his captive thrilled her.

He angled his head in one direction, she angled hers the other, fitting against him to deepen the tangle of their tongues, the crush of their lips. The heat deepened, too, as did the beating of hummingbird wings in her belly.

He saw to the close fit of everything else; the threading of their fingers, her hands pressed to the wall, the in and out weaving of their thighs, their flush torsos. She felt as if she was the tiniest thing beneath him, hiding in the shadow of his shoulders, disappearing behind his breadth.

He felt like hard work, and smelled like clean clothes and fresh country air. He was everything a girl could want in a guy, and more than most would get. He was decent, honest, a good man. She’d wanted him since high school, and was close to admitting she had been a little in love with him all this time.

She nuzzled his ear, whispered, “Trey?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you marry me?”

TREY JUMPED BACK AS IF Cardin had jabbed him with a cattle prod. Not exactly the response she’d hoped for, but then he hadn’t given her time to explain.

“That didn’t come out exactly right,” she heard herself saying, though she supposed even had she used the words she’d carefully thought through and planned for her proposal, it would still have been an unexpected shock.

“I goddamn hope not,” Trey said, his hands at his hips, the furrow of his frown deep enough to get lost in. “Marriage is the last thing I’m looking for.”

“Oh, me either,” she hurried to assure him, thinking the frown and the “goddamn” were a little over the top.

He blinked, blinked again. Shook his head. “You just proposed.”

“You’re right. I did.” She held up one hand, then rolled her fingers into a fist of frustration, wondering if punching herself would help. She didn’t want to screw this up any more than she already had. “But it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“So you didn’t mean it?” Trey rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It just…slipped out?”

Oh, yeah. This was going just great. She blew air up into her bangs. “Let me try this again. Trey, how would you feel about posing as my fiancé while you’re here? No permanent strings. No hard feelings when you leave.”

He was looking at her as if she’d grown a second head. “I’m going to need a whole lot more than that before I can figure out what you’re asking here, much less give you an answer. Is there a beginning where you can start? I mean, with our families’ history, who would believe for a minute that you and I were engaged?”

Their families’ recent history was at the root of as many of his problems as her own. She was Juliet to his Romeo. A Hatfield to his McCoy. But right now, her family was at risk of imploding. “If I start at the beginning, I’ll have to go back to the days when our great-grandfathers ran moonshine, so why don’t I start with the fight between your father and mine?”

Trey’s scowl darkened. “The one where Eddie got all busted up?”

“Exactly,” Cardin said. “A broken hip, a broken leg. Pins holding him together.”

Trey went on the defensive. “Even Eddie said that was an accident.”

“Guess what? I don’t care. All I know is my family went nuts after the fight. No one talks about anything except work, and they only do that while at work.” She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes for a moment, hoping to stave off the stress headache bearing down.

It didn’t work. Surprise, surprise. Her temples pounding, she went on. “It’s like Headlights is one big eggshell now, and I can’t deal with it anymore. I just can’t. If things don’t get back to some semblance of normal, I’ll have to leave town before I lose what’s left of my mind. Seriously.”

“And since my father was involved, you want me to help you settle your family’s feud?”

“Give the man a cigar,” she said, and punched him in the shoulder.

Frowning, he rubbed at the injury that really wasn’t one. “How long is this engagement thing going to take you to explain? I’ve got to get back to the Speedway and pack up the hauler. The team’s hitting the road at first light.”

Wow. He hadn’t said no. Initial hurdle cleared. “It’ll take longer than either one of us has now, that’s for sure.”

“My place tonight, then?” he asked after studying her for several long seconds, the light returning to his eyes, the dimples to his cheeks. “Or was the offer to help me mock foreplay? You know, to get me on board with the mock engagement?”

“What time do you want me there?” was her only response. She didn’t think it would be a very good idea to talk about foreplay when they were only minutes separated from that kiss.

He grabbed his BlackBerry from his waist and glanced at the screen. “It’s already six. I might not get out there till ten.”

“Then I’ll be there at ten. With Jeb’s truck, if I can get it.” She waited for him to come back with something about sleeping arrangements, the lack of mattresses, his camping gear, her suggestion that they zip two bags into one.

But he didn’t. He just nodded, contemplating something she was certain had to do with her, but keeping his thoughts to himself.

She stared into his eyes, and realized she didn’t need to hear him say anything at all. She could see the way he wanted her in his expression. Could read the story of his desire in the language of his body.

He hovered close, his chest rising and falling more rapidly than just moments ago. She expected him to lean in and continue the kiss, to lift her short skirt and explore.

He did neither, smiling as he took a step back, as he raised one hand, a temporary farewell to hold them until later. It made her stomach flip, that smile, so lazy, so sure.

She leaned against the wall of the ice house and watched him go, wondering if she’d bitten off more than she could chew—and if she’d come out the other side of this adventure the same person she was now.

TREY DIDN’T THINK HE WOULD ever finish closing up shop and making his escape from the Speedway. Sales by the track vendors were winding down, and most were engaged in the same sort of packing up as the Corley team. That didn’t mean there wasn’t plenty of action happening all around.

Smoke from charcoal fires lifted the aromas of bratwurst and burgers into the air, and the same wind carried the music of slide guitars, fiddles and accordions to appreciative ears. Monday morning was going to come a whole lot earlier than a lot of the beer-drinking, barbecue-eating, hard-partying folks in the pits would be ready for.

Trey couldn’t have cared less about Monday morning. He was waiting for ten o’clock tonight, the hour he’d finally get Cardin Worth alone. No pit crew to interrupt. No family hovering. No one but the two of them. Just him. Just her. Just like it had been seven years ago the night she’d left an imprint he’d never been able to shake.

But as ready as he was to have Cardin to himself, this trip was about more than getting laid. A big part of Trey’s temporary homecoming was to dig into the fight between his father and Jeb. The one that had sent Eddie Worth to the hospital after being slammed to the floor of the slicker hole—the oil changing pit in Morgan and Son’s garage.

The same fight Cardin had said made everything in her life go wrong.

He couldn’t say his life had been left unchanged, either.

A year ago this month, the fight had brought him back to Dahlia. When he’d left a week later, he’d owned his family’s home, buying the place from his father for the price of a beer, and paying off the huge gambling debt Aubrey had racked up in the years since Trey had hired on as a mechanic for Butch Corley and split.