Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (35 page)

Jameson, needing to
redeem himself after that stunt, knew the one thing I would appreciate more
than a gift would be him singing for my birthday. I loved his singing voice. It
had the perfect combination of rasp and smooth velvet.

When he got up to go to
the restroom, I didn’t think anything of it. But when I heard his raspy velvet
voice flowing through a microphone, I blushed and hid my face against Alley’s
shoulder.

“Oh my god,” I mumbled
as he stepped out from the kitchen of the restaurant holding a microphone to
his lips with a crooked grin to sing one of my favorite songs of all time by
The Beatles,
Something
.

His baritone carried throughout
the restaurant causing everyone to turn and listen to his resonant tenor. He
had the perfect voice for this song, letting his voice do that drawn out raw
crackly whine at the end of each note.

He smiled, finally
standing before me.

Jameson dropped to his
knees, just as he had done in the bedroom earlier, the burn from my cheeks
crept across my entire body. Throwing his head back, he belted out the lyrics
with such emotion everyone cheered.

I watched as the
muscles in his neck strained. He looked up at me and his free hand came up to
cup my cheek softly while he continued to serenade me as his voice dropped
lower.

Tears flowed freely, as
I was one pathetic in love pigizzle. Jameson brought the microphone back to his
lips. “Happy Birthday, honey,”

Leaning forward, I
wrapped my arms around him, crying as he slipped a black box onto my lap.

“What’s that?” He’d
already proposed so it obviously wasn’t that.

“Open it.” His eyes
sparkled mirroring the enthusiasm beaming from me.

Curious as to what it
was, I opened it to find a beautiful platinum heart locket. I smiled and looked
inside to find a picture of us when we were eleven at the track sitting on the
front of his sprint car. On the other side was a scripture in Italian. “What
does it say?”

“It’s says:
To
seeing past the speed
.”

I started crying again
because I knew exactly what that meant and why he chose it. Jimi always told
him, “It’s hard to see past the speed when you’re going two hundred miles per
hour.”

To Jameson, it meant a
hell of a lot more than just racing as it was his entire life. He couldn’t see
past the speed for the longest time and then when he did, he saw me for what I
really was in his life.

He settled beside me
and thankfully stopped the dirty talking and singing. I wasn’t sure how much
more I could take tonight.

The rest of dinner
passed quickly. Charlie and Jimi took turns taking shots. I was a little
worried that Charlie shouldn’t be drinking that much but every time I suggested
he stop, he blew me off and continued drinking.

Alley was beginning to
let loose. Since she didn’t have to worry about Lane, and Jimi and Nancy were
around, she was finally able to relax without feeling like a babysitter.

After a while, Aiden
and Emma were missing, which I assumed they went back up to their room like
Jameson and I had done but I couldn’t be sure. There was plenty of shopping to
do in Vegas and it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she was forcing Aiden to
tagalong.

Nancy was sipping her
fire drink all the while keeping an eye on everyone. Spencer and Jameson played
some retarded drinking game with Tequila, bad idea.

And there I was,
drinking my water, boring.

“Where’s Emma?” Alley
asked taking Jameson’s seat next to me since he was consumed by the silly game.

“Not sure—why?” My eyes
shot to Jameson when he shoved Spencer and barked, “You fucking cheated
asshole,” loud enough for the entire hotel to hear.

“We should go find
her.”

“Why?” I asked. “She’s
with Aiden.”

“No she’s not.” Alley
scrunched her eyebrows together shaking her head. “Aiden is with Tommy at
Treasure Island.”

“Oh, well hell
...
let’s go find her.”

I went over to Jameson
and told him where I was going. He wasn’t pleased.

“No, I don’t think so,”
was his firm response. “You’re staying by me tonight.”

“Jameson
...
I’ll only be a minute.”

He insisted Van follow
us, which I agreed to. It was actually nice to know I was safe with Van nearby.
Van Lambert, the bodyguard Phillip hired was fucking huge. He reminded me of
some professional body builder. You know the ones that couldn’t put their arms
down or wipe their own ass because their arms were so fucking stout?
Yeah, them.

An hour later, we
finally found Emma in a boutique trying on wedding dresses.

Between everything since
the proposal, I hadn’t had time to think about what kind of dress I would wear.
By the time December came along, I’d probably be huge. Might as well wear sweat
pants.

Emma spotted us as she
twirled around in a floor length flowing gown. “Oh hey, look Sway.” Her blue
eyes sparkled like Jameson when he was racing. “You should get this one!”

“Why are you trying on
wedding dresses?” Alley asked snickering. Everything was funny to her tonight.

“For
Sway.
I’m planning her wedding.”

Alley looked at me,
confused.

“You are?” I asked
smiling at her on the pedestal she was perched on, swirling and twirling. I
knew Emma would be perfect but the fact that she assumed I’d let her do it, was
funny to me.

“Well
...
yes, she didn’t exactly say I could but
...
I want to.” Her smile was so sincere I
just nodded. “
Ekkkk
!” she squealed. “So what do you
think?”

“I’m never going to fit
in
that
come December.”

“December?
Why not now? We’re in
Vegas.” She motioned around like we didn’t know. “Do it tonight!”

“I want to get married
on my mom’s birthday, December fourth,”

“Oh
...
” Emma looked down. “I wanted a wedding
tonight.”

“Then you get married.”
Alley suggested taking a drink out of her mini bar collection of alcohol in her
purse. At least she was prepared. “Although
...
”
she paused squinting at the bottle from her last shot in her hand, “that might
be a little too spontaneous for Aiden.”

“Yeah,” her face fell
slightly as though she had already considered that. “Aiden would have to
propose first. I don’t think that’s going to happen.” She carefully took the
dress off and placed it over the chair dejectedly.

“Have you asked him
what his intentions are?” I rubbed her tiny shoulders feeling like a mother
from 1950 at the use of the word
intentions
.

“No. He told me he
wants to marry me but he hasn’t proposed yet.” Emma shrugged losing interest in
the wedding planning. “Let’s go find the boys.”

When we made it back to
the restaurant, nobody was left at our table. Scanning the room, I looked for
anyone we knew.

“Ms. Sway, they’re at the
Fontana Bar now.” Van said from behind. I was amazed how he was able to keep
track of everyone without leaving me. He was like some kind of CSI spy, or an
ex-Navy Seal.

“Oh, okay.”

I turned to walk out
when a short blonde peppy girl stepped in front of me.

“Oh
my god!
You’re Sway, like Sway Reins! Jameson Riley’s girlfriend
...
fiancée!” she corrected waving her arms
around “You’re his fiancée! I saw the proposal on TV.
Oh my god
! Can I
see the ring?” she held her hand out. “I’m Tori by the way.”

Before I could show
her, the tiny girl grabbed my hand. “OH MY GOD!” she screamed bouncing to the
point I was actually worried about her brain knocking around inside her skull
that much. “It’s
soooo
beautiful!”

I couldn’t figure out
if she was actually crazy or just obsessed with Jameson like everyone else.
Maybe she was related to Dana?

Van stepped forward
protectively and eventually we made it away from the crazed girl.

I was not prepared for
what was waiting at the Fontana Bar when we arrived, not prepared at all.

Jameson was on the bar,
literally
on the bar, standing, holding a bottle of Tequila up in the
air over Charlie, who is lying down on the bar. I’ve never seen that side of my
dad and I was actually a little concerned. It made perfect sense to me now that
Andrea took advantage of him.

My thoughts ranged
from, “Should he really be drinking this much?” to “Isn’t it harmful in some
way?” But then I just settled on the fact that he was in fact dying of brain cancer.
Surely this couldn’t be doing anything worse that what’s already been done to
him.

“
Swayyyy
,
how’s my
birthdayyyyyy
girllllll
?” Charlie
slurred when I approached the bar.

He could barely hold
himself up; Jimi was doing the honor.

“
Dad
, do you
really think you should be drinking that much in your condition?”

“Have you seen my cell
phone?” he shouted entirely too loud in my ear.

“No I haven’t.” I
reached out to steady him when he swayed. “Dad seriously
...
you should stop drinking. This can’t be
good for you.”

“What the fuck do I
care what’s good for me? Nothing is good for me.” He said. “Now call my cell
phone, goddamn it.”

And then he was gone.
Alley stood beside me drinking from her mini bar. “Where’s Jameson?”

Now that she mentioned
it, I hadn’t seen him since he was on the bar. I glanced around but didn’t see
him. When my eyes met with Van’s, he smiled tipping his head toward the dance
floor.

Aiden had returned and
was now with Jameson, Tommy and Spencer dancing.

What was even funnier
than watching six grown men dancing around like fools, was watching the women
that were literally swarming around them. Usually it’s the other way around but
every one of those men was good looking. It wasn’t a surprise.

“Come on, let’s dance!”
Alley screamed swinging me toward the dance floor. Before we could make it all
the way, the song changed to
Hot in Here
and I was starting to get
nervous.

I really didn’t think
being four months pregnant I should be shaking my ass out on the dance floor
with my little baby bump but poor Alley never got to let loose and just be
twenty-five. I decided to take one for the team.

Before I could make it
far, Jameson’s hands were on my hips pulling me toward him on the dance floor.
“Come show me that ass,”

With a quick drag, my
ass was pressed to his hips.

Hot
damn.

We hadn’t danced like
this in years. Just as I expected with the way I was pushing myself into him,
the dirty heathen camshaft was awakening.

When I arched my back
and kissed up and down his neck, Jameson leaned forward, his chest pressing
against my back.

“You’re playing with
fire honey.” I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest as well as his
hot and heavy breath against the shell of my ear.

“Oh, I know.” I turned
in his arms. His hands immediately went to my ass.

“Let’s go up to our
room for a few minutes.” He suggested hungrily kissing up and down my neck.

Moments later, we were
back in the room and I was testing out my pineapple theory.

Three minutes later
...
he was a little worked up from the dance
floor and I’m
really
good at micro polishing.

“Better?” Jameson
warily pulled his shirt back over his head and then fumbled with the hem
nervously.

I giggled. “It was
never bad
...
I just wanted to test
out my pineapple theory.” Another giggle escaped me.

“Does it taste any
different?” he whispered buttoning his jeans. I could tell he was a little
embarrassed by this, which had me falling in love with him all over again.

I closed the distance
between us, wrapping my arms around his waist, my lips traced along his
collarbone. “I’ve always liked the taste
...
but
yes, it’s sweeter.” I smiled.

He winked. “Let’s go
birthday girl.”

“We’re tied now?”

His hand came up,
rubbed down his jaw and then he smirked playfully but he never said anything
just smirked.

Why do I just feel like
he won this round by that smirk?