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CHAPTER 1

"Go, go, go!" Aiden Casey shouted over the throb of souped-up engines as his sister Breanna and I ducked beside the rear fenders of the race car. On the driver's side, I poured sticky, violent smelling liquid in a puddle in front of the back tire. She performed the same service on the other side before he ushered us out of the way.

He and Vic Morales held down the trunk of the car as the tires spun in the wet concoction we'd put down. Acrid white smoke rolled from beneath the car. The two men released their hold as the car shot forward on the street, laying down long streaks of rubber.

"Good job, Hadley!" Breanna — the youngest of Arkadia's motley street racing crew — gave an appreciative smile and a fist bump as she took the bottle from my hand and stashed it on the curb.

There was a distinct thrill to standing on warm concrete, surrounded by darkness and spectators, with your index fingers shoved in your ears. The burned rubber and race fuel permeated the air, clutching at it with thick, fat fingers, and tasted metallic on my tongue. The roar of the engines slammed through my chest harder than standing by the tracks when a train rolled through town.

Illuminated by the headlights in the caustic haze, Raelynn Casey walked in front of her boyfriend's race car as he backed up. Working in tandem with her brother, who was behind the car, she used hand gestures to guide Jordan Slater into the black marks he'd left on the road's surface.

Street racing in Arkadia, Texas, was now an instrumental part of my life. And I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be than standing behind Jordan's classic muscle car, waiting on Vic to jog between the cars and start the race with one switch of a flashlight.

Money, pride, and in this small town — celebrity hinged on the outcome of the last race of the night on the first warm weekend of spring.

Beside me, my best friend Raelynn chased taillights on foot. As if running behind her boyfriend's car would somehow give him an added push for the win. I ran too, though I pulled up short beside Vic who held a walkie-talkie to his ear.

"Slater by a semi-truck!" Vic screamed over the din of thirty or so race fans crowded on the line. Jordan had won, by the length of an eighteen-wheeler.

The party at his house that night would be a celebratory one. The best kind. Race season brought a reprieve from my regular life that couldn't have come at a better time.

I rode with Breanna to Jordan and Raelynn's house and clambered from the truck with shaky knees and a clenched jaw. I doubt anyone would be surprised if the floorboard had a dent from my foot slamming into an imaginary brake.

"What?" Breanna glared at me from across the hood of the red short-bed Chevy. "You didn't die."

"No. But if I had, I'd have made it in record time with the way you drive." She drove so fast I wouldn't be surprised if she blew out a radar gun on the way there. Considering she was a Casey and the family owned a speed shop, that was expected.

She smirked, unwrapped a piece of hard candy, and tossed it into her mouth. I had to double time my steps to keep up with her long legs on the short walk from her house to Jordan's.

The night had served well to take my mind off the downward spiral my life had become. Since Eddie — my dad — had showed up drunk at my apartment and caused a scene, I'd been looking for a new place to live. The problem was, there weren't many rental options in Arkadia.

Off the highway, a ramshackle old motel had been converted to studio apartments. I looked at them and almost ran away screaming. Maybe if I was on the run or something they'd be a great place to go.

The only other option was the apartments where I'd lived. Until drunk Eddie drove over the curb and crashed into a row of hedges. His ranting about my grandmother's estate had forced my landlord from his apartment to threaten him with the police.

I was served my eviction notice a few days later. I'd been sleeping in the spare room at Eddie's ever since. The situation was less than ideal.

I followed Breanna up to the back porch at Jordan's, which served as a makeshift bar. "Whoa, where'd my ray of sunshine go?" Raelynn cocked a hand on her hip and inspected me.

Breanna turned on a pivot at the base of the stairs, her brow raised.

Jordan and Raelynn's backyard rapidly filled with people. Way more than had been at the races themselves. I'd rode there with Breanna. Vic ran the show. The less vehicles driven by spectators the happier he was. Made more room for the trucks and car haulers.

With an impish shrug, I moved past Raelynn to the table littered with red plastic cups and various bottles of alcohol and mixers. Jordan's parties were a booze potluck, where everyone was encouraged to contribute.

I made a rum and coke and when I turned both Casey sisters were standing at the bottom of the steps, watching me intently.

The stare down from Raelynn and Breanna was almost as bad as Eddie's nightly, apologetic, drunken monologue for screwing up my life.

Once upon a time I'd have run from them, to avoid the conflict and the lies I'd have to tell. Not that lying came easier now, but I was getting stronger. The fear of rejection and judgment was less. Maybe Eddie was giving me thick skin.

"Why the sad face?" Raelynn Casey was a knockout from the word go. I bet she woke up bright eyed with a flawless complexion. I couldn't fault one of the kindest, most loyal people I'd ever met. Even if she was built like a brick house and prettier than anyone I had ever seen. I could, however, ignore her question behind the brim of my cup as I thought of a decent response.

"Yeah, you're never pouty. You're our ray of sunshine, you can't be glum." Raelynn's little sister Breanna — and youngest of the Casey clan — popped tiny chocolate candies into her mouth as she leaned against the bottom rail. She was taller than her sister and me, with a lithe form that belied her addiction to all things sweet and chocolaty. Breanna would be easier to dislike, in truth, as she wasn't particularly kind.

But she was loyal.

"I thought you were the ray of sunshine, Breezy." I gave her a teasing wink and made an attempt at the charm they were both so eager to see. I bounded up the steps one at a time as the deep hip-hop base tones reverberated from the speakers in Jordan's shop.

Like most houses in Arkadia, there was a large garage dominating the back of Jordan's property.

"Nope ... nah ... almost but not quite." Breanna shook her hair and chucked another handful of candy in her mouth.

They followed me to a circle of chairs around the stone fire pit. Neither were going to drop it. Might as well be mostly honest. "I lost my apartment and need a place to stay. Only, I can't find anything."

"Not the Bates' Motel sort of person?" Breanna collapsed sideways into the chair beside me, her denim clad legs tossed over the arm. Raelynn slid into the one at my other side.

"Not so much, no." I took a long, soothing sip of sugar laced alcohol. I wasn't worried about hereditary addiction. Eddie drank to forget the past, not to get drunk. "Now, can we move on? Neither of you have room to talk. I can count plenty of times when you were anything close to rays of sunshine and I was the rainbow stuck in the middle."

"Don't throw this off on us —"

Raelynn silenced the lanky vixen with an upturned hand. "What about the trailer?"

"What?" Breanna and I both chimed.

"Aiden's place, he doesn't stay there now that he and the kids have moved in with Mom and Dad. I doubt he'd ask for a deposit or anything. I mean, it's not the Ritz Carlton, but it's clean and safe."

"You can't get much safer when your nearest neighbors are cows." Breanna's agreement came as she dropped her booted feet to the ground with a clunk.

Why hadn't I thought of it?

"I dunno, do you think I should ask him?" This was too good to be true. And if I could find a way to wheedle one of his sisters to ask him for me, I wouldn't run the risk of making an ass out of myself.

I'd been doing that a lot more since his divorce. It was easier to ignore the pop of attraction when the ring had been on his finger. Now the barrier was gone and each time he got too close, I wanted to climb up his leg.

I took another drink and spied the bottom of my cup.

"You should." Breanna snapped a twig she'd been playing with and tossed it in the fire.

"He'd go for it," Raelynn readily agreed.

"Who'd go for what?" The man in question appeared out of nowhere, firelight flickering on his face and an errant strand of dark hair tucked behind his ear.

In one smooth motion, he replaced my cup with a full one, nudged Breanna from her chair with his knee, sat in her place, and handed her the empty cup. "Throw that away, brat." Older brother for the win, apparently.

Breanna scoffed and crumpled the plastic in her hand before stalking off toward the house.

I didn't get nervous or drool, as was my constant fear. I studied the drink he brought me, took a testing sip, and nodded my head. Rum and coke. "Thanks. I'm impressed." And excited he'd thought of me. Down girl.

He winked and saluted me with his beer bottle. "So, who are we talking about?"

"You." Raelynn's face formed a determined front. "Actually, we were hoping you'd be interested in renting out your trailer."

When he tilted his head to the side, my stomach dropped. Hope was eternally fleeting.

"Hear me out." She stood and held up her hand as she'd done to silence Breanna minutes before. "What if you knew the renter was clean, had a history of paying her rent on time, and didn't smoke or have pets."

"Her?" His left eyebrow raised a fraction of an inch and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. The effect was alluring in a very masculine way. My stomach did a flip-flop.

Aiden wasn't dumb, far from it. He tossed an ankle over his knee, took a pull from his beer, and looked past Raelynn to me. "I see. Explain to me, Rae, why this potential renter didn't ask me herself?"

She turned to me with a victorious grin.

"Can I rent your place, Aiden?" I gave him a playful bat of my lashes and tried to play it off. Anytime he was within five feet of me my hormones revved into overdrive.

"How long?"

I opened my mouth and snapped it back shut. I had no idea? Was he looking to move back in anytime soon?

"I mean —" I stumbled around for an answer. "However long you'd let me, I guess? If it's not any trouble. Until I could find a house or something else."

Since I was little, I fled from intense situations. When one of the most pivotal points of my life was the direct result of a large confrontation, it left me scarred. This time, I didn't run. I took another sip and shrugged. Either he'd say yes or no. I could only wish my newfound courage would silence the lust that sparked when he'd showed up in a pair of thigh hugging jeans and white t-shirt.

When he didn't respond, I took another swig and stood. I had to wave off Raelynn's fallen expression.

"It's cool, don't worry about it. I'll find something."

"Hey." His arm shot out and caught me as his sister retreated. "Are you needing a place?"

"It's really no big deal, Aiden, just floating ideas around with your sisters. This was one they came up with." He didn't release me right away; his nimble fingers applied a gentle pressure. It was enough to have me thinking too much about those digits and the things they could do.

He was so close sensual awareness crept up from my core. The urge to flee pushed away everything including the snap and crackle of the fire from the pit. Escalated by the klaxon warning sirens going off in my head. Danger, Danger, sex on a stick alert. Danger!

It didn't help matters that not only was he hot, he treated me better than I deserved. "Yes or no, Hadley."

"Yes." I sighed and contemplated the white toes of my Chucks.

"It's yours."

"How much?" When I peered into his cool, blue eyes I tried to keep my voice at an apropos octave for gratitude and not let it slide into hero worship.

He thought about it for a few seconds and his thumb absently stroked the soft skin on the back of my arm. A purr was coming on. He halted about the time my mouth went dry and my heart palpated. His hand fell to his lap. "I dunno, two hundred a month?"

I coughed and choked back an unladylike response. It was a good excuse for me to turn my head and take my seat. Anytime I looked at Aiden for too long, I was pulled in. It was like he had a Hadley tractor beam.

"Aiden ... six hundred is more than fair."

"Six hundred?" Obviously offended, his mouth twisted in annoyance. I rushed on and tried to reason with him. "I paid almost a thousand for my apartment, so six is a lot less than that."

"Hadley. Two is fine, and you cover your own utilities."

Too good to be true. "Okay, okay ..." I settled against my chair and finished off my second drink.

"I've got a key in the truck. I'll go get it for you. Move in whenever you get ready. You can keep the furniture or, if you have your own, Jordan and I can come move it out." Jordan wasn't just Raelynn's boyfriend or the Casey's neighbor, he was Aiden's best friend. "You'll need a bed. There isn't one, I burned it."

I hooted a laugh and slapped my hand over my mouth to silence the escape of more. One of the most unattractive parts of being the Casey sisters' ray of sunshine? The obnoxious, loud chuckle. I hated it. "I'm sorry ... burned it?"

His wry smile was the sexiest thing I'd seen in weeks, aside from the man who bore it. "Yeah, who knew what was on it with the way Wendy messed around. Jordan, Vic, and me, we got drunk and torched it out back one night."

"That sounds therapeutic."

"It was. After dragging it out of the trailer, we pissed on it. I did mention we were drunk, right? Then poured some beer over it in baptism and torched it." Aiden shifted around, dropped his foot to the ground, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He was lanky, much like his baby sister, and carried the same dark hair and tanned skin. His smile, though, reminded me of Raelynn ... because of the dimple in his left cheek.

I'm a sucker for dimples.

It seemed to be getting easier for Aiden to talk about his ex-wife. Not that we'd discussed personal topics much. I knew the divorce was final because I overheard a conversation between him and his dad.

At times, I was nosey on an intolerable level.

Aiden finished his beer and stood, claiming my empty cup as he did. "I'll go get the key and let Raelynn know you're staying here tonight."

I made a face then thought about it, he was right. Two drinks were enough, I wouldn't be driving anywhere. Nor was I letting any of them drive me to Eddie's. No, I'd gone through too much trouble to hide him from this part of my life.

"Oh yeah." He turned back to me. "I went through the resumes for the new hire. I narrowed it down to three and left them on your desk. Dad wants you to have them come in for interviews."

"I'll do it first thing, Monday." Since the drama surrounding the Street King Shootout last year — a huge no-prep race for the street racing community — and Jordan's win, business at the shop had doubled. We were hiring a new mechanic to bear some of the brunt.

As I watched Aiden saunter away, it occurred to me the worst thing about my attraction to him? He was my boss. Add landlord into the mix and the "off limits" sign shone twice as bright.

There were different stages to Eddie's sobriety or lack thereof. Weeks of halfhearted efforts to stay clean. In those times, he'd try in vain to mend all the broken fences between us. Inevitably he would fail. Since Gramma had passed away, I was always his target of blame for his blundering missteps.

Phase one: the happy drunk. Phase two: the guilt-ridden repentant drunk. Phase three: the manipulative, self-loathing, entitled drunk. I'd learned right away, when he'd been released from prison, to avoid the third phase. I didn't fear he'd hurt me, but the confrontation ripped open festering wounds and laid them bare for emotional vultures. Of which, Eddie had become.

Having stayed the night at Raelynn's, there was no telling which level of drunk I was walking into. Best hope was for the first.

Eddie was a normal looking middle-aged man. His hair was thinning and he needed a cut and a shave. The silver flecks were far more evident in his week-long stubble than the hair he pushed back off his sweaty brow. He was half a foot taller than me but probably weighed about the same.

The man was too skinny. He needed to eat more, something he didn't do much of when he was on a bender. During those times, he drank his meals instead.

"Hey, baby!" He pulled me to him for an exuberant hug. Phase one. "How was your night? Want a sandwich? I think there's some bread, somebody keeps buying bread! I never think to buy it myself. It's a mystery how it just appears."

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Excerpted from "Hot Lap"
by .
Copyright © 2019 Leslie Scott.
Excerpted by permission of The Wild Rose Press, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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