Sweet Ache

Chapter 1

QUINLAN

“Whoever thought to put a race in wine country sure as hell knew what they were doing.” I take a sip of wine and glance over to meet my sister-in-law Rylee’s amused gaze.

“They did indeed,” she agrees, a laugh falling from her lips that sounds slightly on the giggly side, making me believe she’s riding the road to tipsy right beside me.

I lean my head back to appreciate the unprecedented cool breeze in the Sonoma valley mixed with the sun’s warmth on my face. It’s a welcome feeling compared to the endless hours in the classroom that wait for me in the coming weeks. Fluorescent lights, tedious hours researching for my dissertation, and the always draining sessions where I fulfill my teaching assistant duties loom on my mental calendar.

So I enjoy this, appreciate the downtime to spend with my family here at Colton’s race before I return to the crazy schedule of my graduate studies. An engine hums in the distance, the reverberation vibrating in my chest and the wine in my glass, as it approaches our location.

I lift my head back up just in time to see Rylee’s head snap to the left when my brother’s car moves past pit row, easing with a skilled finesse around the road course where we’re currently sitting in the infield. Her relaxed features immediately pull tight as she watches Colton’s open-wheel Indy car navigate the turns of the course until he goes out of sight again.

“Still worry you?” I ask her although I know the answer since the sight of him in the car makes my heart pound with anxiety despite the amount of times I’ve sat and watched him. Because regardless of how many times he’s crossed the finish line safe and sound, it’s the one time he didn’t that still holds my heart hostage. The crash when we almost lost him.

“Yes and no,” she says, a soft smile spreading on her lips, the love for my pain-in-the-ass brother evident there. “Yes because of the nature of what he does. The speed he goes. No because he loves it. I can’t tell him not to do what he’s so passionate about.”

And it’s as simple as that. Incredible that he found someone who could handle his flaws and soften all his hard edges.

Someday. Way far off I’ll find a person like that … but romance is not on my current horizon.

“You deserve a medal for putting up with his shit,” I tease her, our long-running joke causing her to laugh again.

“He has his merits,” she teases in return, her words reinforcing the affectionate smile on her lips and love written across her face. “So what about you? How’s things in the man department?”

I roll my eyes with a sigh. “I’ve written off men for a while.”

She snorts out a laugh. “Uh-huh.” She looks over her wineglass, eyebrows raised, eyes telling me to talk.

“I’m the furthest thing from a doormat—”

“You can say that again!” She laughs.

I just shake my head, wondering why if that’s the reaction I get from her, why does every man I choose treat me like one. “It’s just too much work, honestly. You know me—I want some fun. I want some good sex. I just don’t think the cliché ‘happily ever after’ is for me.”

“Well, sometimes, right in the middle of everyday life, love gives you a fairy tale when you least expect it.” Of course she thinks that way after the way her courtship with my brother has turned out.

But she’s not me.

“I doubt it in my case,” I say, “but I’ve been kissing a whole helluva lot of frogs if it is.” My mind flickers to my last few boyfriends and how I’ve been completely blindsided by the shit they’ve pulled. It’s almost as if the easier sex is to get, the harder love is to find for me.

“Well, I guess I’m not one to give advice since I was told to have some wild, reckless sex with a guy and look where that landed me.” She smiles as she holds up her hand and wiggles her ring finger, the diamond reflecting the sun and sending prisms sparkling all around us.

Our laughter is drowned out as Colton loops back around the track. The noise of the engine fades, and I’m just about to speak when I hear someone knock on the door of our observation booth.

“Well, if it isn’t Quinlan Westin.” The voice sends a slight thrill mixed with irritation through me.

I meet Ry’s eyes briefly, and her lips fight to hold back the knowing smile as she stands. She’s heard some of the heated discussions between Colton and me over Luke and his determination to take me out. She’s even intervened a few times to explain that just because they competed for the same girl way back when doesn’t make him a bad guy. Her comments fell on deaf, testosterone-plugged ears.

“Hey, Luke,” she says, tone void of any kind of hospitality. “I was just going to find my glass slipper. Excuse me.” The expression in her gaze tells me she’s escaping to save herself the drama that will ensue when Colton finds out he sought us out.

Smart lady.

I on the other hand couldn’t care less what Colton thinks of Luke Mason because I have my own opinions. I’m just still trying to figure out what they are but, hell, if his persistence isn’t admirable in trying to get a date from his arch-nemesis’s baby sister.

He must have balls the size of cantaloupes walking in here and purposely poking the sleeping bear. I have to give him some credit though—he never fails to find me at the track, never neglects to ask one more time even though he knows the answer is going to be a resounding no.

As I turn to face him I can’t help the hitch of my breath at the sight of him leaning against the doorjamb, black and silver fire suit unzipped and sleeves tied around his waist. The plain white T-shirt he wears is that perfect combination of not too tight and not too loose to give just the right hint of the corded muscles underneath. Can’t say the man doesn’t wear clothing well.

And I’m sure when they’re off he wears what’s beneath even better. Too bad I won’t be finding out.

“Well, if it isn’t Luke Mason,” I mimic him. A slow, lopsided grin spreads across his face, and as All-American, boy-next-door handsome as he is, nothing stirs inside me. Hell yes he’s as good-looking as they come but something that pretty needs a bit of a rough edge to him to attract me, and all I see and hear from him are smooth lines.

He takes one step into the room and both of our eyes reflect the appreciation for our mutual attraction. “Gorgeous as ever.” He says the words like he’s testing them, trying to sense if this time around my interest is piqued more than with his numerous other attempts.

“Thank you but the answer is still no.” I say it with a smile, but I might as well head this off at the pass. No need to beat around the bush when he’s going to get there eventually.

He chokes out a laugh, his reaction causing my smile to widen. “Pretty presumptuous when I don’t believe I asked you anything.”

“Just because you didn’t speak doesn’t mean you weren’t asking with your eyes.” I raise my eyebrows at him, my own eyes speaking for me as well.

He shakes his head very subtly, and exasperation resonates in his sigh. “Good to know you think so highly of yourself that you think I’ll keep coming back for your punishment.” His smirk tells me he’s joking but there’s still the question in his eyes. “Well, now that that’s out of the way,” he says, leaning his shoulder on the wall beside where I sit, “how are you doing, Q?”

I shot him down, again, and he’s standing here like a champ. The optimism is commendable. “I’m good and you? How’s the car running?”

He looks out toward Colton’s car as it approaches and passes by once again, speaking when the noise of the engine abates into the distance. “Fast,” he muses. “Fast enough to beat him.”

I snort and raise my eyebrows. “Luke, I do believe you just insulted my brother.”

“Not in the least darling.” He winks at me and normally that would creep me out but for some reason it’s charming on him. “If I were to insult your brother, you’d most definitely know it from my word choice alone….”

“So noted,” I say, our eyes continuing the flirtation without words, and I find myself questioning why even though he’s attractive, the chemistry is a few beakers short of the right formula for anything to reach combustion. I sigh, knowing he’s waiting to see where I go with this conversation so I figure, fuck it, might as well. “How’s your girlfriend doing?”

His lips curl up on one side; his eyes dance with mirth. “Well, she’s refusing to go on a date with me even though I’ve asked her seven different ways from Sunday, but I’ll keep at it and let you know when she finally says yes.”

Shit, I walked right into that one didn’t I? “She must not know what she’s missing then,” I offer up.

“Hm, I’d say she’s missing about ten thick inches but you never know, it might be too much for a girl like her to handle.”

Cocky bastard. I keep my face impassive while my mind wonders how much he’s exaggerating—or if he is at all—and make sure my eyes don’t drift down and give him the satisfaction of knowing that I’m even curious.

“Well there’s your problem Mason,” I say as I rise from my position. Colton’s car veers down pit row, and I’m relieved and annoyed that our conversation is coming to an end. “The digits you should be talking about are the ones to call her with. A woman knows when a man talks in inches he’s only doing so to boost his ego. We always assume we need to cut the number by half,” I lie and then return the wink he gave me as I walk past him and head to the door, fighting two urges, the one to look and see if he is indeed packing all those inches and the other to not burst out laughing from the look on his face in reaction to my bald-faced lie.

“Well, if we’re playing by your rules, I should have told you it was twenty, then.”

I hear him stifle a chuckle behind me and am glad that he’s not getting his dick in a twist over my verbal dis. I descend the stairs to the infield heading toward the garages where I know the rest of my family will be to greet and shoot the shit with Colton when he gets out of the car as is our usual custom as of late. Luke’s boots echo off the metal steps right behind me, and I’m curious just how much he’s willing to tempt fate by following me.

He falls in step beside me in silence but the sounds and sights of time trials for pole position filter in all around us. “Hey, Quin?” he says as we approach the mechanic bays.

“Hey, Luke?” I mimic him again.

“What do you say you come join me for a victory celebration tomorrow night?” He angles his head to the side and waits for my answer.

And I can’t resist, he’s making it too damn easy. “You’re throwing Colton a victory party? How sweet of you!” He snorts out in disbelief and runs a hand through his cropped hair. I place my hand on his chest momentarily. “Thanks for the laugh and the walk down but—”

“I know, I know,” he says, raising his hands in surrender and taking a step back. “Can’t fault a guy for trying.”

I can hear Colton talking to Becks a few yards away, something about wing adjustments and lap times and although Colton’s preoccupied, I prefer for the peace to be kept and punches to remain unthrown.

“I think it’s best for your sake if you vacate the premises before my brother notices you’re here.”

“Ah see, true love. You’re looking out for me, but in case you forgot,” he says, pointing to his name on his fire suit, “I have every right to be here.”

I purse my lips and hold his gaze. “Well, not exactly here,” I reply, pointing to the yellow line denoting the garage boundaries for each race team.

He takes a step back so that his toes are just to the edge of the painted delineation and looks back to me with a smirk on his face. “Better?”

“Much,” I say as we hold each other’s stares a bit longer. I flick my hands at him in a shooing motion. “Now quit causing trouble and go.” I love the fact that he doesn’t react right away, that he has a mind of his own and isn’t going to let me persuade him. Maybe there are some rough edges to him after all. Food for thought.

“I love causing trouble. In fact I’d love to stick around and watch your big, bad brother protect you from the likes of me,” he says, and pulls at his shirt, which is beginning to stick to the middle of his chest from the heat sweltering off the asphalt track. I watch the movement and let my eyes drift down to the crotch of his race suit and hate myself for looking and still wondering.

And I curse the race suit for being so damn baggy.

“I can take care of myself just fine. No need for my brother’s help,” I tell him, challenge in my voice and amusement in my eyes.

Luke works his tongue in his cheek. “Well, since your brother doesn’t factor in, there’s nothing standing in the way so why won’t you go out with me?”

“Because arrogant race car drivers aren’t my type.” Maybe that will dissuade him.

“Well, since I’m more of the good-looking, financially stable, athletic type, I guess I’m golden.” His smile widens, proud of his answer.

“Far from it. I’d say more like silver.” I squint my eyes looking at the metallic color of his race suit as he steps toward me no longer blocking the sunlight and with blatant disregard for the line at his feet.

“Oh believe me, Quinlan, as long as it’s hard as metal, that’s all that matters,” he says, suggestion lacing his voice.

Did he really just say that? “Jesus. That right there is exactly why I’ve rejected you the other forty-two times you’ve asked me.”

“Well shit, I’m on number forty-three, so next time you’ll say yes.”

“Um, no,” I say with finality, but I can’t help the appreciation from coming through in my tone.

“Oh, Westin, I have your number, baby.” He takes a step back, and I glance back down to the line he’s cleared and smirk.

“Actually, you don’t.”

He laughs deep and loud and I know Colton will have heard it. Thanks a lot. “You’re right. I only have the number twenty but,” he says with a shrug, “I’m sure you’d be willing to work with that. Later, Quinlan.”

“Later, Luke,” I tell him as he turns his back and starts to walk away.

“One of these days you’re going to say yes,” he calls over his shoulder.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” he says one final time, causing me to laugh and wish I did feel something between us because hell if his unrelenting effort isn’t attractive in itself. Shit, it would be fun to take him up on the offer if not to just piss Colton off. Hm. Maybe I’ll do just that next time.

“What the fuck did he want?”

Then again, maybe I won’t. Not worth the trouble.

I turn to find Colton leaning against the wall, Gatorade in hand, fire suit unzipped, and chest grossly plastered with sweat.

“Um, you’re married now. You don’t need to flex your chest to try to get women anymore. It’s nasty.” Distraction at its finest.

“Didn’t have to try to get them before,” he says, emphasizing his point with the flash of a grin.

I just roll my eyes, first Luke and now my brother. I most definitely do not need to date a race car driver.

“You had to work to get me,” Rylee says as she walks up behind him and swats him on the butt.

He laughs and places a soft kiss on her lips. She pushes him away when he tries to take the kiss further. “You see that?” Colton says, tone playful. “Married for a year and she’s already starting to reject me.”

“You poor baby,” I mock.

“So did you say yes?” Rylee asks with a lift of her chin motioning to where Luke walked away.

Thanks, Rylee. I thought I was off the hook, but I guess not.

“Of course she didn’t say yes. My little sister is not going out with that asshole,” Colton says, toggling his head back and forth between us.

I’ve never understood what the big deal is. Luke and Colton went after the same woman. Colton won, big deal. Well, and then Luke threw a few punches because of it … and maybe, perhaps he let a bit of the hostility transfer over to the track a time or two.

“Cool it, Ace,” she says with a raise of her brows, beating me to the punch. “She can go out with anyone she wants. You’re not her keeper.”

I can see the muscle pulse in my brother’s clenched jaw as Rylee stands her ground with him—she’s the only person besides his best friend, Becks, and our dad who can.

“He’s an arrogant ass!” he spouts off, mouth agape like we’re both crazy.

“I seem to know someone else who was just as arrogant and just as good-looking,” she teases, holding her ground.

I can’t fight my smirk from spreading into a full-blown grin from Rylee’s comment that is right on target. Becks summons Colton to come over toward the car. He looks at me with the stern big-brother, don’t fuck with me look. It’s kind of cute.

And annoying.

“Relax! I told him no.” The pronouncement earns me a flash of a grin before he pecks a kiss on Rylee’s cheek.

He starts to walk away and then stops and turns back. “Keep it that way,” he warns before continuing over to Becks.

Rylee tsks out a sound as she follows something over my shoulder, and I turn to see Luke walking farther down the pits. He flashes me a grin before continuing into a building.

“You can’t deny that he is definite eye candy.” My neck hurts from the sudden whiplash at her words. “Oh come on, Quin, I may be married but I’m not dead.” She shrugs. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t see how many licks it takes to get to the center of his Tootsie Pop.”

And she says the comment so matter-of-factly I just burst out laughing. I swear to God all of the hormones she’s been taking to try to get pregnant have affected her usually demure manner.

“He wishes,” I say, still laughing.

“Well, he is persistent. You’ve got to give him that.”

“That’s all I’m giving him.”