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She was shorter than the rest and possessed a body that wouldn’t quit. Her slender neck pushed up small breasts high enough for show and her tiny waist made a man’s hand itch to place his burning fingers there.
The woman shook her apple-shaped bottom. Her shorts were high enough to reveal the contour of what was scantly covered by the V-shaped front. For some reason, Colt couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.
“We came to the right place!” Brant exclaimed, slapping his money on the bar. One of the gals pranced over his arm, shot him a smile and kept her hips working, which earned her all sorts of praise.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender hollered over the music and chatter.
“Whatever you got on tap,” Colt replied. Brant was too mesmerized to speak.
“We’ve got twenty beers on the hose,” the guy informed them, thinking he was cute.
“Surprise me,” Colt said, turning his back.
When the bartender set two dark beers in front of them, Colt said, “So what is this place? Something like Coyotes?”
The bartender laughed and shook his head. “No. Don’t you read the signs, boy? These girls are drivers.”
“Ah,” Colt said, immediately choking on his first sip of beer.
“You know, stock car drivers.”
Colt gulped with the additional clarification. Brant went pale. Immediately, their eyes scanned the women dancing above them. It didn’t take them but a minute to find which one almost belonged to them.
* * * *
“You can’t just walk up there and yank her off the bar,” Brant told him as soon as they sat down.
“Wanna bet?” Colt said, nursing his beer. He was brewing, and Brant was wasting his breath.
“You’ll scare her to death. Besides, I guarantee you she has her people here.”
“What do you mean?” Colt questioned him.
“She’s probably got an entourage of publicists, managers, and a slew of folks following her around day and night. She’s the hottest rookie driver they’ve ever had in stock car racing. She ain’t here alone, Colt.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Colt grumbled, wondering why he was dealing with such a distorted bunch of emotions.
They watched the girls parade up and down the bar, and the longer Colt stared at the woman he now knew must be Princess, the madder he became. “I’m sure she’s got a boyfriend somewhere in this crowd.” And that fact enraged him a little bit more.
“No, what I mean is that she’s supposed to be one of the best on the track today. She’s worth a whole lot of money to someone. If we go up there and yank her off her pedestal, someone will be around to break our jaws.”
“I don’t care,” Colt said, his eyes following her when the girls jumped off the bar to take what he assumed was probably just a short break. “If she gets back up there, you’ll see how quickly an angel falls from grace.”
Brant shook his head. “You’re acting like her boyfriend instead of the man who saved her from the clutches of homelessness.”
Colt grunted. “That’s the most ridiculous damn thing I’ve ever heard of in my life.”
“Then quit pouting. I, for one, will enjoy the show if those female drivers decide to do a little number again.”
Colt watched the crowd. He wondered if her father knew she was up there marching around like a hooker. He shifted in his seat. “And as a friendly reminder, we did what anyone else would’ve done in our shoes. We discussed this all those years ago. Now, you’re sitting there acting like I’m some kind of pervert.”
“What’s really eating at you?”
“You wanna know the truth?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
“I walked in this place, spotted a bunch of hot chicks, picked one out, and was already lusting after her in my blasted head.”
