Page 130 of Down & Dirty

I only nodded, not wanting to admit how close I’d come just then to doing that very thing. But when he turned to look at me head on, I froze.

“That you haven’t done that yet tells me a lot about you. I know the only reason I don’t is because I love my daughter too much to make her life any harder.” He laughed, his smile growing wider. “I’m going to guess you feel the same.”

Letting the air rush out of me, I nodded. “I’d never do anything to make her or Micah uncomfortable. He’s not going anywhere, so we’ll figure out how to get on the same page.”

“I wouldn’t bother with getting Tommy on any page. Just so long as you and Sky are aligned, that’s all you need. You can handle anything if you’re both on the same side of the fight.”

I appreciated his advice. Just like I appreciated him going to bat for me with Tommy just now. But being around them, as warm and welcoming as they’d always been to me, made me feel guilty all over again. Skylar must not have mentioned anything about last weekend to her parents. And the closer we got to race time, the more anxious I felt.

When Sky gave me a hug before I headed for the gate, I saw the wariness in her eyes. My grip on her tightened, and I kissed a line across her cheek. “I’ll be right back, baby,” I whispered, my lips to her ear. She gave me a quick nod before I finally let her go.

I did as I’d promised her, keeping myself on the safest line, holding back when I normally would have pushed. I qualified in the number eight spot and then in the main I finished ninth. It wasn’t the momentum building I’d hoped for, but the relief on her face when I found her back at the pit felt better than a top five finish ever would.

And when she took my hand as we left the arena for dinner with her family, she looked up at me with a smile so easy, so content, that it felt like we might finally be back on track. Like the gap between us was nearly closed, and every time I kept my word, I’d be able to build back what I’d almost broken.

CHAPTER 42

SKYLAR

“Idon’t know,” my mom said later, looking over the proofs from Ronnie’s first endorsement shoot. “They’re a little...loud.” She winced dramatically, anticipating Ronnie’s reaction to her criticism. His reaction to any criticism was never good.

“They match our racing gear!” He said, his hands out, pointing to the photos as if that would somehow make the lime green sneakers less offensive.

I tried to conceal my laughter, but he glared at me. I was just happy we were laughing about his first fashion shoot instead of preparing for OTM to fire us over it. They signed off on this collaboration because the manufacturer was a subsidiary of HardSpun.

When I’d asked the management team at our meeting a few weeks ago if there were any low-hanging gigs they might be able to give Ronnie to tide him over, they jumped at the idea. We all knew my brother’s head was too big as it was, but giving him something was better than all of us watching him dig his own grave.

“You’d look good in this color,” Ronnie said to me, a smirk on his face.

“She’d look good in anything,” Cory replied, coming up behind me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He pulled me close, kissing my head and letting out a contented sigh.

We were getting back to normal. Back to us. But as I leaned into him, felt his hold of me tighten before he leaned back to catch my eye with a smile, my nerves rattled a little. I was anxious to share some news of my own tonight.

“Come on, sit and dig in,” my mom said.

We all took our spots around the table of my parent’s hotel suite. Instead of going out, mom had ordered a bunch of our favorites, but at the moment my stomach was too knotted up to be hungry for any of them.

I cleared my throat, swallowing down a quick sip of water. “So, Ronnie’s not the only one who’ll be in front of a camera soon.”

Ronnie laughed, helping himself to a fried chicken leg. “Yeah, yeah, we all know your husband’s a model, Sky. No need to remind us, we can hardly get away from his face.”

Cory shook his head, watching me curiously out of the corner of his eye.

“No, not him.”

The room took on a stillness that had my heart hammering.

“Who then?” my father asked, his fork midair.

“Me.” If I hadn’t been so nervous to tell them about this, I’d be offended that they all seemed so shocked.

My mom’s face scrunched up into an awkward smile. “You’re becoming a model, too?”

I rolled my shoulders back. “Well, not a model really. But I’ve got a job doing a small print campaign for a niche moto magazine.”

Cory’s fork landed on his plate with a clank and I jumped. “Since when?”

He’d kept his voice light, but the look in his eye was as far from supportive as you could get.

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