Pedal to the Metal: Love's Drivin' but Fate's Got the Pole (The 'Cuda Confessions Book 3) (69 page)

Colt, in turn, gripped Marley’s hand like a lifeline, while he returned his mother’s curious looks.

Dale’s bark drew me from my reverie. “Phillip, did you bring them contracts?”

“Right outside.” Phillip rounded the bar. “If my sensible compact car hasn’t hauled ass in shame, I’ll be right back.”

Caroline burst into giggles. “Car Porn Ranch,” she managed to choke, drawing me into her laughter. “Dale, you need one of them big wrought iron arches over the driveway.”  By the time she’d let the rest in on the joke, Phillip had returned.

“If you sketch that arch, I’ll weld it up,” Caine vowed.

“Jonny. Marley. Colt.” Dale brought the recliner upright, ending the hilarity over my offhand remark. “I’m about to ask somethin’ extreme of y’all. And, I ain’t gonna explain myself. I’m lookin’ for an act of faith. I will tell you, we’re about to rock a great big boat, and there will be waves comin’ over the sides of our little ship.”

His eyes burned with determination. “Your lifejackets will be each other, and Shelby, who’ll field all the fuckin’ questions, and me, who ain’t gonna say a goddamn word—not after tomorrow. I want a team where I ain’t gotta look over my shoulder every minute to see who’s gonna sink a knife between my shoulder blades next. If you can’t commit to an environment where it’s team first and ego second, have some puddin’ and no hard feelin’s. But, if you can, the next few months are gonna be as much fun as they are gonna be frustratin’.”

“Frustrating?” The question came from Marley.

Dale cocked his head. “You drive like Jesse, honey. And that ain’t workin’ for you. If you sign the contract Phil’s about to show you, two things will happen. You will resign from Ridenhour, along with Colt, Caine, and Jonny. You will move out of your daddy’s house and into mine. Caine will rip everything you thought you knew about drivin’ right out of your head. Can’t listen to two voices and win, darlin’.”

How could they do that, when they were scheduled to be in Maryland in two days?

Dale’s eyes held no answers, but his attention remained on Marley. “I need to know before you leave here tonight, if you’re in or if you’re out. Until Shelby makes a public statement, this remains between us. That means, not even Jesse can help you decide.”

A shiver of jealously ran down my spine. Could I handle watching Caine turn his unique methods on Marley?

“I’m in.” Jonny shifted little Shelby into Caroline’s lap and got to his feet. “Got a pen, Phillip?”

“But, Daddy! Our speech!” Shelby wailed.

“Five minutes, sweetheart. That speech is coming.” He pressed a kiss to the top of the child’s head. “And now, it’s got more than hope for a foundation.”

“You know, Dutch ain’t wrong.” Robyn sank into the cushions with a resigned sigh. “You are a showoff, Hannah.” She crossed her legs and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, but I had the sense the dramatics were more a way to keep her from staring at Dale than frustration.

“Speakin’ of showin’ off. Reckon this is a good time to show Shelby my gift.” Colt pushed off the arm of the loveseat and held out his hand to me.

Doubt flared in Marley’s eyes, but I put my hand in Colt’s and scrambled over Caine. “Remember what I said at the fairgrounds the night we went to see the 6k ‘Cuda.”

Caine’s phone buzzed. He pulled out the device and his thumbs moved over the small screen. 

Marley nodded. Colt led me to the door of his bedroom. I hung back when he tried to tug me forward. “Uh, no Hazmat suit.”

With a grin, he turned the knob and flipped the light switch. Wincing, I peered around him, determined to grab my boots and dash back to the den.

I blinked. My mouth fell open. “What the hell?”

I could see the floor. The piles of clothes and old black carpeting were gone. Crisp black and white vinyl tiles replaced the black carpet, topped by a shaggy, cream-colored rug. “Is that... sheepskin?”

“Yep. Caine mighta picked that out.” He winked.

The boot box sat in the middle of the rug. A second box, about the size of a purse, propped against the larger one. The wrapping was newspaper. But I wasn’t expecting the laptop.

“A new MacBook?” I dashed to the rug and knelt.

“That’s from Dad,” he admitted. “He’s got you a new tablet, and a new phone. Wi-Fi just became your leash. But, check out the screensaver.”

I lifted the device into my lap. “What is this?” The diagram had neat labels, but I couldn’t interpret what it was, other than an exploded sketch of a truck.

“Here. Caroline made a computer model.” Colt knelt at my side and tapped an icon.

The room sprang to life on the screen, like those Becca used to build for her interior design classes A second tap zoomed to full screen. The image panned slowly to reveal the walls and fixtures.

“It’s this room,” Colt explained. “Dad figured you’ll need a quiet spot, if you’re gonna write.”

I took in the furniture. “What’s that?”

“Genuine Dodge Ram truck. Circa 1993.” He grinned. Crisp white pinstripes defined the strip of the hood, painted flat purple. The fenders gleamed under a coat of pearlescent gunmetal gray.

I studied the grille, then zoomed in on the three-dimensional ram’s head in the center. The front end of a truck had been chopped to form the back side of a couch. I studied the grille, spying the three-dimensional ram’s head. “This is just like Ernie’s truck!”

Colt scrubbed his palm over his close-cropped waves. “Uh, princess, it
is
Ernie’s truck. The whole she-bang’s down in the garage. You’ll know the cuttin’ was done by Caine by the perfection of it. Jonny’s taped it down for the paint job and sprayed the pearl gray already. We voted down the old red and white paint job in favor of the Hannah-Built color scheme. We planned on using that suede look, like Caine tried out on the R8.”

Stupefied, all I could do was try not cry while I took in every piece. “You’re building me an office, and the furniture’s made from pieces of Ernie’s truck?”

I manipulated the 3-D image around the unique sofa, delighting in the way the vehicle doors formed the sides of the couch, right down to the door handles and side view mirrors. The Hannah-Built logo peered back at me across the center of each plump back cushion, done in pristine white, edged with black atop purple fabric.

I dragged the cursor to the coffee table. “Is that... Ernie’s engine?” Four pistons rose from the gleaming block to hold a sheet of glass.

“Hell, no.” Scorn heated his words. “That truck had a damn fine three hundred horsepower diesel under the hood. Didn’t have but forty-four thousand miles on an engine that’ll do three hundred thousand, easy. Caine sold it. We put the money toward materials, because leather ain’t cheap, baby doll, but your man says you gotta have the best. We pulled a busted engine outta the scrap heap, but it’s a Mopar.”

I held up a thumb. “Ernie would approve.”

Spinning the cursor, I studied the desk. A tractor seat perched atop a curvaceous chrome base to make a stool. Another cushion matched the sinuous outline of the seat bottom. The oval back sported thick padding and had the curve of racing buckets.

I gasped in delight at the remainder of the hood. Fastened to the wall, the huge expanse of metal descended from the ceiling. The piece served as a backdrop for a horizontal slab of thick beveled glass.

Bright red magnets pinned several empty ‘To Do’ lists to the vertical expanse of hood. Many more marched along the edge of the glass, waiting to be pressed into service. A pair of vintage, round car headlights cast a glow onto the desk, dropping from chrome rods attached to the ceiling.

Through the glass desktop, the tailgate was visible, mounted to the wall to form a kick piece.

I panned to the closet, gasping in delight at the lighted makeup vanity set into the alcove.

“Incredible. Who designed this?”

“Jonny has something similar on his back porch. Caine thought you’d love it, so he and Jonny drew the plans. Then, Francine cried her heart out to Dad about the way Ernie’s damn friends tried to short-change her on the askin’ price of that truck before the dirt settled on the poor man’s grave, and the idea was born one night in Bristol. Caroline made the mock-up video.”

He pointed to the couch again. “This is the front seat. We’ll use the sides of the truck bed to box it in.”

I’ll be working in Ernie’s truck. I can sit in his lap to think.
I had no words to express the emotions hammering me. “This is incredible, Colt.”

“Uh, I just gave up the room and paid Francine for the truck.”

My mouth fell open. He tapped the end of my nose. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You thought I didn’t buy you nothin’ for graduation when you asked me for them boots, right? We planned to give you this, no matter where we had to install it.”

He swept a hand to the far wall. “Francine suggested we make the room smaller by three feet, to give a big closet.” He shrugged. “Shouldn’t be long till we’re ready to start the walls and set it all up. We did the flooring this week. Good thing you slept like the dead.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I wasn’t going to cry, dammit. This family had cried enough.

I set the laptop aside and lifted the lid on a pair of purple leather boots. The gray bands of ostrich leather around the top would rise to mid thigh. I’d guessed correctly. The matching purse rested in the other box.

“No wallet. No fifties left to put in it.” Colt grinned. “Until Rick cuts my check and I slide on past you in the winnin’s department.”

“Colt!” I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. “Thank you. Thank you!”

“Girls take up a lotta damn space.” His gruff tone didn’t fool me. “Caroline saved your ass from havin’ to run an extension cord to the bathroom to heat up all that shit you use in your hair, by the way. The vanity was her idea. Caine sent your cap and gown off to be framed.”

Colt gestured to the blank wall that abutted the hallway, just as Caine pushed the room door open with a scowl.

I bounded over Colt and Caine’s his arms, covering his face with kisses. “Ernie’s truck. My own closet and spot to put on my face. Everything’s going to be so perfect. I don’t even know what to say.”

He pushed a T-shirt and a pair of yoga pants into my hand. “Jonny’s about to bust a gut to say whatever it is he’s gotta say. And Robyn’s yawnin’. You can play with that laptop half the night, when you’re tucked up next to me,” he warned with a heart-stopping grin. “But, take a second to get dressed, because I sure as hell wanna see you in those.” He shoved a T-shirt and shorts into my hands, then pointed to the boots with a grin.

“You stay,” I ordered Colt, when Caine backed out of the room and closed the door. “Are you moving out or what?”

Colt curled on his side, tugging the fluffy fur. “Nope. Dad’s goin’ hammer down, Shelby. We’re guttin’ the basement. Puttin’ in four studio apartments, with little kitchens and big-ass beds. The bathroom’s gonna get ripped out and the laundry room’s gonna be expanded to add a few machines.”

Did that mean Francine told him about the trust fund beforehand?

No, Ernie told him he planned to back Hannah-Built. 

I unbuttoned my pajama top and dropped it on the floor. While I shrugged the shirt over my head, feeling Colt’s gaze on my bare breasts, I thought over the plan. That seemed like a lot of work for rooms that would get, at best, two month’s use a year. On the other hand, it made sense to give everybody a spot to come home to. But why four apartments?

Did Dale mean for them to resign before the season was over?

I decided to follow Caine’s lead and not ask. In his time, Dale would reveal all. I tugged my pajama pants down. “Sit up and start pulling the paper out of those boots for me, please.”

Colt laughed, but did as I asked while I worked the shorts up my legs, then danced impatiently until he handed me the first boot.

“These are gorgeous. Thank you so much.”

“Shit kickers. Figured you needed somethin’ to make folks that don’t know you take you seriously.” 

“Wow. Look at those boots.” Francine’s eyes popped when I pranced into the den, but Dale slid a palm over his face.

“Them ain’t boots. Them’s no different than little minnows in a bucket.” Dale snorted. “I can see all the boys snappin’ up that bait now. And, after they shoot off their mouths, she’ll leave their egos spread in pieces over every drag strip from here to California.” He winked. “Ain’t that right, Marley?”

“Pretty much.” Marley lifted a thumb.

“I want new boots.” Shelby crossed her little arms and tossed her head.

“Is that right?” Colt leaned behind the sofa and pulled out a tiny shoe box. “Got a hug for Uncle Colt, then?”

“Put ‘em on, first.” Shelby extended one foot like a queen.

I burst out laughing. “Good job, Shelby. If ever a man needed practice at being Prince Charming, it’s your Uncle Colt.”

Colt tucked one head behind his back and fired me a middle finger, but he went down on one knee and wriggled the child’s tennis shoes off before he cast Caroline a desperate look. Caroline took over the task of getting Shelby’s feet into a new pair of boots identical to the ones I’d bought her for Christmas.

“Okay, here we go, squirt.” When Caroline was done, Jonny swung little Shelby off the loveseat and sat her on the chair Dutch had vacated. He went down on one knee. I landed in my seat on the sofa with a shriek of delight.

“Get ‘er done, Jet!” I couldn’t resist taunting Caroline with her own words.

Jonny took the little girl’s hand. A metallic shriek stayed anything he might’ve said.

We all jerked toward the side door.