Flame
Hissing in a jagged breath, I’m pretty sure my heart just dislodged itself and is floating around in my body. I can feel my pulse in every inch of my body. “What happens in six months?”
His left shoulder lifts in a carefree shrug. “Whatever we want. You’ll be finished with school by then, and I’ll have rehabbed, but I’ll still need some extensive training to get ready for the X-games and the Worlds next year. Gunner’s opening his track here at the first of the year, so we can stay as long as you want, depending on what you want to do with your career and how close you want to be to your family. I’m open.”
“But you’ll go back to touring on the bus once you’re completely healed, right?” His plan sounds too perfect; there has to be a catch somewhere.
“Sunshine, I’m not leaving you, if that’s what you’re getting at. I thought I made that clear already. No more being apart. We will decide what we do next when we get there. Together. The only thing that matters is that we do it together.” He drops his lips to the top of my mound and smirks roguishly. “Levi and Dakota.” His tongue swipes at my clit, eliciting a whimper from me. “Hulk and Sunshine.” Another swipe, another whimper. “Thor and Lizzie.” This time, he catches the swollen nub between his teeth and sucks lightly. “Tell me you’re with me, love. Tell me you’re mine.”
Threading my fingers through his dark, shaggy hair, I tug his head back so that I can stare into the vibrant blue eyes I plan on falling asleep to every night and waking up to every morning as I finally admit what my heart has known for a long time.
“I’m with you, love,” I reply breathlessly. “Yours.”
FEBRUARY 23 (FOUR MONTHS LATER)
THIS IS A BAD IDEA. No, scratch that. This is a terrible idea. One of the worst I’ve ever agreed to. I’m still not sure how I got dragged into being a part of this plan doomed to fail.
A small feminine hand brushes over my thigh to get my attention, and as I snap my eyes to the woman sitting next to me in the backseat of Dakota’s Jeep, I remember exactly why I’m here. Nali. There’s no way I’d let her do this without me close by. I’m still pissed she’s involved in this absurdness that has nothing to do with her.
“He’s not going to hurt me, Rory,” she says with a soft smile. “Stop worrying so much.”
“No!” Furrowing my brow, I shake my head harshly. “You don’t know what’s going to happen. None of you do.” I raise my voice to make sure Dakota and Grams hear me in the front seat. “This Foss dude could be off his rocker, on drugs or steroids or something. I mean, if he truly did fuck with Levi’s bike and try to hurt him, then he obviously has some serious issues. What happens if he figures out what’s going on and he goes batshit?”
Dakota stares at me through the rearview mirror, her mouth in a rigid line. “I told you that you didn’t have to come with us, but you insisted on tagging along for ‘security purposes’. So stop being so damn negative and work on some kind of security plan or something for all those things you think may go wrong. One way or another, this is happening tonight.”
Sighing, I lean back against the leather seat and sulk. I should’ve gone straight to Levi earlier today, when I first caught wind of this grand scheme that Dakota and Grams came up with to record Lance Foss’s confession for tampering with his dirt bike. Not only would he have put a stop to this nonsense real quick, he’s now going to beat my ass for not doing the same. And just when we were starting to get along so well . . .
It’s no secret the guy didn’t start off as my biggest fan, especially after our rather volatile introduction. I don’t ever recommend walking in your girl-who’s-a-friend’s bedroom, only to discover her boyfriend pounding her into next week, after you let yourself in her apartment with your key, especially when he doesn’t know you exist. Another terrible idea I was involved in; though, in my defense, I had no clue they were there. I’d been texting and calling her all morning to let her know I was stopping by on my way home from my brother’s to drop off pictures my niece, Ivy, had made for her, but she never answered or replied. Then, when her Jeep wasn’t in its spot, I assumed she wasn’t home and let myself in with the key she gave me. Big mistake.
During the huge confrontation that ensued—which was mostly him claiming there’s no way a guy can go back to being strictly friends with a chick after they’ve hooked up, that the guy continues to think about fucking her, even if he says he doesn’t—Dakota screamed out something about him still being best friends with Emilia and asked if he still thinks about fucking her all time. And then, shit got weird.
They stopped yelling, stopped talking even, and just stood there, staring at each other with these crazy faces. It was like they were telepathically fighting or something; I couldn’t figure it out. And after about five minutes, their expressions gradually relaxed, and then they suddenly started making out right in front of me. Unsure of what in the hell I’d just witnessed, I slipped quietly out the front door as they mauled each other and waited for her to text me when the coast was clear.
It took Levi a while to come around and join Team Rors, but after it became obvious that Dakota would not be deterred in making sure he and I got along, he succumbed to my charming ways, and I think it’s safe to call us friends now. He’s even asked me to help him coordinate the big hot air balloon proposal he’s planning for next month, but after tonight, he may never speak to me again.
I keep quiet the remainder of the hour and a half drive to Cheyenne, where the FMX tour is in town tonight, and where, supposedly, this Lance Foss character is scheduled to be. Levi thinks Dakota’s out for a girls’ night with Nali and Juno while he’s at the dirt bike races over at Gunner’s new track. I’m still not sure how she plans on explaining this little expedition to him, regardless of the outcome, but knowing her, she’ll find some way to wiggle herself out of trouble with him. She always does.
“Okay, we’re here,” Dakota announces as we pull into the crowded parking lot adjacent to the stadium. “Let’s go over everything real quick, and then I’ll do my perimeter sweep before we get started. I’ve got VIP bands and pit passes for all of us, so no location is off-limits to us.”
Grams grabs a bag from the floorboard and pulls out some pens and a pair of glasses, handing it all to Nali. “Remember, the camera in the glasses is in the actual lens, so whatever you see is what we’ll see on the footage,” she tells her granddaughter, almost as if she’s used them often. “The pens double as voice recorders. They’re recording when you click the tips so that they’re out and ready to write. Have them both recording when you talk to him, just in case one cuts out at a vital moment. These little guys are great about that.” Twisting around in her seat, she thrusts one in my direction as well. “Here, Rory, you take one too. You never know if you may need it.”
I accept the device and slip it into my pocket with a polite thank you, though I’m afraid this lady has seen one too many James Bond movies.
Nali nods her understanding as she props the glasses on her nose, inciting dirty librarian porn to pop in my head. “Got it. Okay, my name is Candy Crawford. I’m a student at the University of Wyoming, and I want to interview him for a paper in my Sports Psychology class. Dakota’s already written out a list of questions on the notepad for me to ask. Boost his ego, flirt a lot, and act like a ditz while I let him look down my shirt. Then, I go in for the kill. If I need rescuing, I’ll take a shoe off to signal.”
My stomach clenches with revulsion at the thought of this dickwad getting near Nali, much less touching her. We may be friend-zoned because of my history with her sister, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about her. I’ve been secretly pining after this chick for nearly nine months now, and no matter how hard I try not to, I can’t help it.
“Perfect,” Dakota replies with a hopeful grin. “Let him think he’s got a chance to take you back to his room, and he’ll be eating out of your hands. Rors and I will both be close, so if anything happens, we’ll be there in a matter of seconds, and if for some reason we ne
ed a fast escape, Grams will be here, ready to drive the getaway car.”
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I lean forward and rest my elbows on the tops of my knees as I murmur, “Y’all have to be the strangest damn family I’ve ever met. Who else’s grandma drives their getaway vehicles on their undercover spy missions?”
Nali leans over and innocently kisses my cheek, though my dick is completely unaware of the innocent part. “You know you love all of us, Dimple Boy,” she teases as she follows her sister out of the Jeep, using the nickname Dakota gave me not long after we first met.
I want to tell her not to use that one, to make her own up, and that whatever it is, it’ll be my favorite. But I don’t. ’Cause that would be creepy. And pathetic. So instead, I’m just creepy and pathetic in my head.
“You have no idea,” I mumble under my breath as I join the Shavell sisters outside in the brisk, late-winter evening air.
A half an hour later, I’m trembling with rage as I watch Nali flirt and openly seduce this fucking douchecanoe with her demure smiles and accidental cleavage shots as she ‘interviews’ him. The two of them are sitting at a secluded picnic table off to the side of the area where the riders hang out while waiting for their turn. She’s damn near sitting in his lap as he straddles the wood bench seat to face her, his hands finding every reason possible to touch her in some way. I may kill this dude tonight and do everybody a favor.
Leaning against a post to the right of them, I act like I’m just chilling as I check out the scantily clad honeys strolling by. And God knows there’s enough of them around here. Dakota is on the opposite side and back behind them, sitting at a table by herself while she pretends to play on her phone. Her knee bounces nervously as she glances up at them every few seconds, and I can see in her face how important this is to her. When I tried to talk her out of this before we left, she explained to me her main reason for doing this is to get this Foss guy kicked off the tour, and hopefully keep him from trying to hurt Levi again. The risk her boyfriend takes in simply performing his craft is dangerous enough to make her worry sick about his wellbeing, but knowing that someone else is purposely trying to fuck with him . . . yeah, I can understand why we’re here.
Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of angry green female darts into my field of view, and it takes me only a second to realize she’s making a beeline for Nali and Foss. Pushing off my heel, I rush toward them, but the raging woman reaches them before I do, and she grabs Nali by the back of the neck and throws her on the ground, sending her notebook and pens flying across the grass.
I miss the first thing she says to Foss, because I’m still out of earshot, but by the look on her face, I’m guessing it’s something close to “You motherfucking asshole,” though at this point, they’re the last of my concerns. I need to make sure Nali is okay.
As I rush to help her off the ground, I drop to my knees beside her, but she gives me a quick shake of the head with a warning look then pops her chin in the direction of the quarreling lovers and mouths, “Click your pen.”
Acting on instinct, I reach in my pocket and pull out the pen, smashing my thumb on the end of it to start recording, even though I’m not quite sure how these two people arguing helps our mission any. I wipe the dirt off Nali’s knees and elbows as she holds her leg with fake pain, so it looks like I’m actually trying to help her as we eavesdrop.
“I can’t fucking believe you, Lance. It’s the first show of the year, and you’re already back chasing nasty track rat snatch again,” she fumes, careful to keep her voice low enough not to get noticed. “That’s how much I mean to you after everything we’ve done together.”
Rolling his eyes, he steps back away from her and gives her a menacing look. “Mercedes, woman, get a fucking grip. I’ve told you a thousand times that we are not together. This all started when you wanted me to fuck with Levi’s bike at Worlds and I wanted to fuck you. We both held up our ends of the bargain . . . a clean transaction.” He holds his hands up in the air to show they’re empty. “You’re the one who keeps showing up in my bed these last four months, begging for my cock like a junkie who needs her next fix.”
“Fuck you, Foss,” she growls, shoving him with all her might before spinning around and stomping past where Nali and I are huddled on the frigid ground, back to wherever she parked her broom.
“See you later tonight! Room nine-twelve!” he calls after her then grabs a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and pops one in his mouth. “Stupid bitch,” he mutters as he lights the smoke and inhales deeply.
When we finally stand, it’s like he suddenly remembers he was talking to someone else when all that started, and he jerks his attention to Nali then over to me, and finally back to her. “Sorry about that, doll. Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” he asks, striding toward us.
Immediately, she curls into me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her cheek against my hoodie. “I’ll be fine. My man here will make sure I’m taken care of,” she replies calmly, then adds, “Thanks again for your time. You have no idea how much help you were.”
“What the fuck? Your man? All of you bitches are crazy!” he spats as we turn away from him.
Hand-in-hand, Nali and I take off jogging for the exit, both of us thrumming with excitement over what just went down. Even though crazy-ass Mercedes seemed to be a wrench in the plan, it turned out to be exactly what we needed. Between the video footage on Nali’s glasses and the voice recording from my pen, Levi should have enough evidence to prove that both his top competitor and ex-manager conspired to tamper with his bike, and hopefully, be done with them forever.
“Maybe I was wrong about this idea after all,” I admit to Dakota as Nali and I meet up with her outside the front gates.
“You got something?!” Her eyes grow wide with optimistic anticipation. “Tell me what happened! I had to disappear when Mercedes showed up, ’cause I was afraid she’d recognize me, and I’ve been dying to know.”
Nodding with a big smile, I pull the pen out of my pocket and hand it to her. “They were both involved, and everything you need is right there and on Nali’s video. Full confession.”
“Eeeeeep!” She twirls around like a little kid, putting her arms straight out to the side and tilting her face up to the stars. “He’s going to love me forever and ever and ever after this.”
Nali giggles at her sister’s behavior as she falls in step with me on our trek out to Getaway Grams and the Jeep. “I hope I find love like that someday,” she muses, playfully bumping her shoulder against mine. “Don’t you?”
Dakota skips over and grabs Nali’s hand, pulling her ahead to dance and spin and laugh across the pavement, as I murmur to myself, “You have no idea.”
Continue following Nali and the rest of the Shavell siblings in Ember, Book Three of the Fire on the Mountain series, due out early 2016.
I WOULD NOT BE SANE without the following people:
My husband and girls ~ Y’all will be #1 on my list Every. Single. Time. I love you more than anyone else in the entire world and thank you for dealing with my crazy, manic writing schedule. Your support means everything. You’re why I try so hard.
Jill Sava ~ There’s a reason we work. Good thing only you & I know what it is!
Dani ~ Here’s to the first of many together. Thank you for taking a chance on me.
Kirsten Papi & Trina Marie ~ somehow you still put up with me. I think we’ve passed the three year mark. Yikes! I can’t wait to see you both again soon.
Stacy Kestwick ~ I love when you’re rough with me. I owe you a dozen Krispy Kremes and two dozen cupcakes. Stop sending me love stickers because you know I’m writing these. And no, you can’t lick my ear.
Jennifer Van Wyk ~ Not only are you a kick-ass beta, but your motocross knowledge and research helped me so much in this book. Thank you for always being available to me.
Michelle “Sawyer’s Mom” Grad ~ Always my Mason’s tattooed baby mama. I hope you continue to take this journey with
me and standby as crazy voices take over my head. You’re critical to making me feel normal on a daily basis.
Of course, Alison Evans Maxwell and Allison East couldn’t make things easy and spell their name the same way, allowing me to just refer to them as the “Al(l)isons” . . . but they are two of the best beta readers and sweetest people I’m thankful to call friends nonetheless. Thank you both for understanding my crazy and putting up with my jibberish.
Hang Le ~ Another amazing cover. This makes a dozen . . . here’s to another hundred!
Mo Mabie ~ One of the best roomies ever, thanks for the cuddles. I miss your face. And your leggings.
Aly Martinez ~ My rack is all yours. Forever and always.
Meggie ~ I’m not sure you know how much I love you. You are the reason for many a smiles every day.
Natasha ~ Thank you for loving me despite chapter 3. And for being the coolest 40 year old I know.
Kayla ~ To the stupid person on Etsy who won’t make my wine glasses. It was totally the thought that counted.
Steph ~ My Smoops. Thank you for always being there for me.
Jessica ~ My sprinting sister. We’ve always got this.
CM Foss ~ For fixing my shit when my shit needs fixing. You’re the bomb diggity.
Street Team ~ Love you all! I can’t ever thank you ladies enough for your continued support and constant pimping.
Bloggers ~ The hardest working people in the business that get little credit and no pay. I greatly appreciate the time you spend reading, reviewing, and/ or promoting the books we authors pour our heart and soul into. We couldn’t do it without you.
Readers ~ I have the most incredible readers ever. I absolutely love getting feedback from you and visiting with you on a daily basis. You’re the main reason I continue doing this! Love you all!
ERIN NOELLE IS A TEXAS native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels.