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I let my gaze fall to the floor. Damn, this is fucking embarrassing. Not to mention, I’m exhausted from staying up all night arguing with Paisley. I’m attracted to a woman I shouldn’t want, but I can’t stop myself from seeing how far I can go with her.

  “Let’s forget King’s ever happened, or even our first meeting here. Okay?” she says, and my gaze jerks to hers. “I think it makes things difficult for us to act normally around each other. We can’t help how we feel, but as long as we ignore it, then everything will be... fine.”

  “That’s your solution—we should ignore how we feel?” Though I am surprised she admitted it to me.

  “Bury it deep,” she says with a firm nod. “I did that for four years.”

  Whoa. That’s unexpected and a little more than scary. “You’ve felt something for me for four years?”

  “No!” Her face turns a fiery red, and she covers her cheeks with her hands. I’m seriously relieved by this, because I do not want to put this beautiful woman in the same category as crazy fan/stalker. “I buried how I felt about anyone for four years. I had a goal and—and hooking up with random hot guys wasn’t a part of reaching it.”

  Meagan’s words burn in my mind. Sexually inexperienced. Landry is a virgin, or practically one. Honestly, I don’t care. “What would your boyfriend think about your feelings for me?”

  “I don’t have one,” she admits. “I haven’t had one since first semester of freshman year. I couldn’t afford, literally afford, the distraction and I didn’t have the time, with my class and workload each semester.”

  How could she not afford to have a relationship, or not have the time? I have to know more. I want to know everything about her and if she’s willing to share, then I’m willing to listen, but not in here. We need to be in a common area, like the table by the pool.

  “Can we talk more, like this, while we eat by the pool?” I’m taking a big risk by asking her to stop and then continue later. “Not just about relationships. I want to get to know you, Landry Basnight, and—” I hope to God this isn’t a mistake. I hope to God I’m not setting myself up to fall flat on my face, or worse. Paisley nearly brought me to my knees more times than I can count. “I want you to get to know me, too.”

  A shy, but friendly smile graces her face. “I’d like that very much.”

  Chapter Ten

  Landry

  Nervous, I rub the palms of my hands on my shorts while I wait for Beau by the pool. I can’t believe what I said to him.

  We can’t help how we feel, but as long as we ignore it, then everything should be... fine.

  Of course, I made it sound like more than what it is, but lust is a feeling. Desire is a feeling. He’s not the first guy I’ve ever lusted after or desired, but he’s the first one who makes me want to act on those feelings. He’s the first guy who makes me want to keep them at the surface and not bury them deep inside.

  However, I work for him. I’ll be taking care of his daughter, while we’re in an exotic place, all alone, staying in the same hotel—maybe even the same suite of rooms— and the nights will be sultry—

  I groan a little, then focus on what’s around me—the here and now that has nothing to do with sultry, or romance, or exotic places. Instead, I’m sitting in a comfy chair, under a large umbrella, and there’s a nice breeze. The table is wrought iron with a glass to and, with the exception of our food, he’s already set it for lunch.

  For a guy, he has great taste, unless his stepmother picked this stuff out, too. Or maybe Paisley did. Just the thought of Mia’s mother makes a warning bell go off. Why didn’t she and Beau work out? Will she care that I’m the one taking care of Mia—not that I think I’m so gorgeous or something. Women can be funny about things like that. With the way some women and men cheat on their partners, I don’t blame them.

  I clear my head of all the questions pertaining to Paisley and focus on what’s in front of me—once again. It’s the perfect setting, for two people getting to know one another. Though I do know a little bit about him already.

  On my drive to Beau’s house, Meagan had called to give me the lowdown on him—lies and truth wrapped up in a pretty package otherwise known as gossip. Beau has a reputation as a player—just like his brothers. He’s known for wild parties at his home, complete with strippers and escorts. When he races, he wins. Same thing with women—when he sees one he wants, he stops at nothing until he has her. From the way Meagan tells it, since he and Paisley stopped being a couple, it’s a different woman every night of the week.

  Except for the night I met him. He had been alone, and intent on keeping me safe. That’s not the behavior of the man she described.

  Plus, I’m pretty sure Meagan or her source is exaggerating, since I think it’s pretty hard to do all that while raising a daughter. And it sounds exhausting.

  I sound hopeless. I’m a lost cause to sensibilities, because I want to get to know Beau. I want to know everything, even if he ends up being the biggest mistake of my life. I’ve never had one of those before.

  A big part of me, the not-so-rational part of me, hopes he won’t be a mistake.

  Beau walks outside, tray in hand and a smile on his face. I can’t stop staring at him, at his smile, at the way he walks toward me with such purpose, as if I’m the only one who exists... I blink and then smile back.

  “What’s on the menu?” I ask, keeping my tone light and friendly, just like the smile on my face.

  “Turkey-bacon wrap with a side of sweet potato fries.” He sets the tray down on the table. “Ladies, first.”

  “Thanks.” I grab a wrap and a handful of fries, then wait for him to sit and do the same. Automatically, I say grace before I eat. I dig in, finding Beau’s eyes on me. “What?” I ask around a mouthful of turkey.

  “My mom used to say grace before we ate,” he says quietly.

  Encouraged by this turn in conversation, I quickly swallow food. I can handle talk about family. “Old habits are hard to break.”

  “They are when that parent hasn’t been around in the past ten years.”

  The smile on my face falters. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I won’t do it around Mia, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’m not worried about it.” He eats the last bite of his wrap, and I watch his throat work as he swallows. “If you want to teach that to Mia while you’re with us, it’s fine, because I don’t have it in me.”

  I flinch a little at the not-so-subtle reminder that this job is mine for as long as he says it is. “It’s up to you.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin and glance away from him to stare at the pool. Light from the sun reflects on the water, shimmering and inviting. I feel out of place suddenly, like I showed up at party I wasn’t invited to.

  Beau exhales. “Landry.”

  “Yes.” I refuse to look away from the pool and back at him.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I just hurt your feelings, didn’t I?”

  So much for the egotistical rumor. I focus on him, on his sexy face and light-colored eyes that at this moment, remind me of a rain-filled sky. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you meant to.”

  “Looks like we’re both right.”

  “We should mark this down, for posterity or something. “

  His lips curve on one side. “No confidence in it ever happening again?”

  I give him a teasing smile. “A man and woman, both right, on the same subject in the same conversation—not a chance.”

  Beau throws his head back and laughs, and I stare, completely transfixed. This is so bad. So wrong.

  I can’t look away, not even when his laughter dies down and he catches me. I search his face, looking for... what, I’m not sure, because he makes me unsure of everything.

  Except, that I’m hopelessly attracted to Beau Montgomery.

  Chapter Eleven

  Beau

  God, the way Landry stares at me, with those big, innocent eyes, I want to reach across the table, grab her up in my arms,
and spend the rest of the afternoon buried inside of her. I want her eyes to get all dark and slumberous, to show me what color they turn when I make her come.

  While it’s physically possible, it’s not ethically possible to seduce my daughter’s nanny. Though, like I explained to Landry earlier, Montgomerys aren’t known for following rules.

  Her pink tongue darts out, licking her lower lip. “When will Mia be here?”

  All sexual thoughts are immediately discarded at the mention of my daughter. “I’m not sure exactly. Paisley and I don’t have a traditional custody agreement.” Paisley’s out of rehab, two months earlier than she agreed to, but like I had agreed to, Mia went home as soon as Paisley got settled.

  “But the contract I signed was for a year.” Her mouth dips into a frown.

  “You’ll be paid for it, don’t worry.”

  She gives me an uneasy look. “I’ll be living here, even when Mia’s not here. That seems a bit... strange.” Raising her glass of iced tea to her mouth, she concentrates on drinking it.

  “It’s the only way I can get a woman to have sex with me.”

  She spits out her drink and immediately grabs her napkin. “You are ridiculous.”

  “So are you. I don’t expect you to watch Mia every second of the day. I really only needed you for Monaco, but Kimmie wouldn’t agree to such a short contract.” Not sure why exactly, but I went with it. I take a drink of my tea and set it down. “Besides, it’s not like I can’t use the help. And I hate depending on Judith. It seems wrong to ask her, like I’m taking advantage of the fact that she doesn’t blame me for Remington’s infidelity and loves Mia like her own. Judith is the one who helped me put together Mia’s nursery, for God’s sake.” I’m rambling and I can’t stop. Shut up, Montgomery.

  “Actually, I wouldn’t agree to a shorter contract, but it had nothing to do with you,” she says, blotting the iced tea up on the table with her cloth napkin. “I need to get my master’s degree in order to get a lead teacher job in my field of study, but I can’t afford to go to graduate school without taking out more student loans. Only I can’t afford to take out more student loans, because I already owe more than I could possibly make with my degree.”

  She owes more than what she’d make? “How are you supposed to pay it back?”

  “Meagan suggested I become a stripper. I’m pretty sure she was joking.” Her shoulders sag as she folds the cloth napkin. “But I opened my first bill, and I’m thinking her idea has merit.”

  Over my dead body. There’s no way in hell Landry will bare her body for guys to ogle and jerk off to.

  “Not that my problems are your concern,” she adds.

  But I want them to be. I need to think about her situation, maybe even find a way to learn just how much she owes and possibly pay them off.

  “Feel free to talk to me about anything.”

  “Will you do the same?” she asks.

  “You want me to talk about my problems to you?” It feels strange to be offered that. I’ve never had anyone to talk to, not even Paisley, because more often than not, she was my problem. I never talked to any of my buddies, because guys don’t—well, maybe Cole would.

  Lately, he’s become a big believer in talking about shit. Undoubtedly, this has everything to do with his fiancée, Rae.

  Wyatt would recommend a therapist that I have no intention of ever using. Narcotics Anonymous is enough for me, and so is being his sponsor.

  Her smile is sincere as she says, “I’m a great listener, and with the non-disclosure agreement I signed, no one will evah know all the deep, dark secrets you’re keeping.”

  I want to trust Landry, but I’m gun shy. All these protective feelings she’s bringing to the surface are happening way too fast. The last time I moved this fast, trusted my feelings, and just went for it, was with Paisley.

  Besides, why should we trust each other? We’ve done nothing to earn it.

  “Or not. I’m still waiting on our reset button to be mutually pushed,” she says wryly. “I still think we should firmly bury our feelings for each other.”

  Not happening. I want to know exactly how she feels about me. So, I invite her to the one place where I’m always in charge, where I always feel comfortable, and at the top of my game. “How do you feel about speeds topping out at 200 miles per hour?”

  ***

  The racetrack is practically deserted when we walk on it. Heat comes off the blacktop in waves, though it’s only May. The ride over here was non-eventful. Well, if you don’t count the three wrecks I nearly caused because I was too caught up in staring at the passenger of my truck.

  “Are we really riding in your car?” Landry asks.

  “No, mine is at the shop, but I have driven this one in a race before.”

  “Did you win?” she asks, and I level her with a look. Shaking her head, she says, “Of course you won. How dare I think otherwise.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” I tuck my helmet under my arm. “This car is specifically reserved for Ride Alongs and Driver Packages fans like to purchase for special occasions. Remington thought it was important that we made the car look identical to the one used in a real race for the people who spent their hard-earned dollars—with the exception of a passenger seat, of course, and it’s a little more luxurious.”

  As we get closer the car, she literally starts dragging her feet. I can hear them as they scrape over the asphalt. Concerned, I turn my attention to her and catch her clenching the strap of the helmet so hard that her knuckles are white.

  Shit.

  “Shouldn’t I wear a suit or something? You know, in case we crash and the car catches on fire?” Her voice cracks a little on the last word.

  “You think we’re going to have a fiery crash?”

  “Anything’s possible.” She keeps moving toward the car, slowly. Very, very slowly.

  “Yet you’re still going to climb into the car with me?” I can’t fathom this. It’s obvious she’s nervous. Her entire body is shaking, with excitement and fear.

  “Yes,” she says simply.

  “I won’t go over eighty.” Even with my need for speed, I’ll go slowly with her. “Most people are comfortable with that.”

  “Whatever you think is best,” she says, circling the car once. “You’re the professional.”

  “Stand still.” I push the helmet down on her head. It frames her gorgeous eyes. Her head tilts back to look up at me when I straighten to my full height. “I promise to keep you safe, Landry.”

  Her eyes crinkle at the corner, so I know she’s smiling. “A little less talking and a lot more driving before I lose my nerve, Mr. Montgomery.”

  After getting her situated in the passenger side, I ease in the driver’s seat and mentally go over my checklist. After strapping on my safety harness, I start the engine. Our in-helmet speakers and microphones click on.

  She coughs, waving a hand in front of her face. I flip her visor down.

  “The fumes will go away as soon as we start driving.”

  Another cough and then a sharp intake of breath. “We can talk to each other?”

  I laugh as her voice fills my head. “Yeah.”

  “Your name looks nice on the windshield.”

  “Do you know why Beau Montgomery is printed there?” The best way to distract most people is by talking to them, and I’m hoping Landry is no different.

  “Besides being a NASCAR regulation?”

  “Oh baby, tell me more.”

  She giggles. “Because you have brothers that race, too, so they need to know which one of you is behind the wheel.”

  “Smart girls are so damn hot,” I tease, easing onto the track and applying a little pressure to the gas pedal. It takes less than two seconds to hit sixty.

  “Oh God,” she croaks. Immediately, I slow down a bit. “My dad was right.”

  “About what?

  “Zero to sixty in one point eight seconds.”

  Though it’s killing me not to open her
up, I slow down even more, until it feels like we’re crawling on the track. “This better?”

  “No.”

  Disappointed, I start to ask if she wants to go back, but she cuts me off with three words.

  “Go faster, Beau.”

  “How fast, baby doll?”

  “Before I answer that, can I hold on to you?”

  “You can hold on to anything you want except my hands and arms. I need those to drive.”

  She grabs my leg and squeezes. Heat from her touch scalds me though my jeans. “Fire this thing up.”

  Grinning like the cocky son of a bitch I am, I don’t wait to be told twice.

  Landry

  I have never felt anything so exhilarating in my life.

  Wind whips inside the car, making my clothes billow in and out. We’re practically flying around the track, the wall and stadium seats one big blur. In the middle of the speedway is a huge campground-type of area where hardcore fans tailgate for days leading up to the races.

  “My family and I camped out in the middle once.”

  “Yeah. What did you think?” he asks.

  “It was fun to run around and meet other kids but we ended up leaving early, because some guys started showing a porno on the side of a camper.”

  “Classy,” he says, and I wonder if he really means it. Viewing porn is to guys like shoe shopping is to women.

  “It was disgusting. We were sitting outside, cooking hotdogs over the campfire with another family, and then all of a sudden, there it was—a giant penis and vagina going at it. We couldn’t look away. I think I saw all the way to the woman’s brain.”

  He chokes back a laugh, and I grin at the visual he must now have. “How old were you?”

  “Fourteen. Thank God, Jamie was only five. He doesn’t remember it. Wish I could say the same. Totally scarred me for life.” I shudder.

  “You’ve never watched one again?”

  “God, no.” I wince. “I sound like such a prude, like some uptight, goody-two shoes who clutches her pearls a lot. I mean, I do have a pearl necklace that belonged to my mamaw, but I’ve never clutched it. Once, when Jamie was ten, I made him eat a bug for snooping around in my room. ” And that sounds so much better. I want to crawl out the window and let him run over me with the car a couple hundred times.