Chapter 3

My stomach churnedin a way it hadn't in years while I stood in the driveway of my house waiting for Tav to show up. I felt a little embarrassed of the extravagance I'd purchased for only myself after seeing the trailer he was sharing with someone else.

It was so small.

I had no idea how two people who weren't fucking could share a space that size. An anger I hadn't been able to shake coiled in my stomach as I thought about the pretty boy living with Tav.

Probably doing more with Tav.

The sky was blushing pink in the east, and the sunshine was starting to bloom from a predawn gray into a brilliant blue as the cool autumn air dragged at my lungs. Every puff was visible steam, but I hadn't bothered to wear a coat. It would probably be almost eighty later today, but right now I was freezing and wishing I was in the car instead of standing here looking and feeling like an idiot.

What if Tavish doesn't show up?

I guess it didn't really matter. It wasn't like I couldn't drive to the expo, but anxiety carved my insides to the bone, whittling away at me with a rusty razor blade. I sucked in a deep breath when a decrepit blue Ford turned in to my drive and began to make its way toward me. The thing was a relic from several decades ago. I bit the tip of my tongue as it came to a stop right beside my car. He popped open the door and hopped out, and I wanted to groan at the sight.

Fuck me running and standing still and some other third way I couldn't think about right now. Tav was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt that was probably cotton, but it had clearly been made by demons to torment me because it stretched perfectly across his chest and highlighted his pecs. I tugged on the hem of my suit jacket. Would he like it? Anger swamped me. What right did he have to look so fucking fantastic after all these years? Worst of all, why did I give a shit?

Hell, why did I go to his fucking trailer and offer him a job?

Because I'm stupid, that's why.

Maybe I'd gotten brain amoebas from my trip to the Gulf last month. Mom had said to be wary of warm water, but I'd gone swimming anyway.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at his truck and directing all my ire toward it.

"Oh, that?" Tav said, slapping the hood of the Ford with a crooked grin. He glanced at my house and raised an eyebrow, as if daring me to make any unpleasant comparisons between my belongings and his. "That's my baby girl." He gave the hood another solid slap, then wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sniffed while his lips twitched. It seemed as if he wanted to laugh for some reason and that fueled my irritation.

"I thought you might turn up with that boy." I was shocked by my own mouth. I hadn't meant to bring the kid up at all. In fact, I'd told myself very sternly in front of the bathroom mirror earlier—while I was putting on cologne I usually didn't bother with before work—that I wouldn't talk to Tav about anything personal. I was going off the rails already.

He slowly shook his head, eyebrows dancing. "Ellis is over eighteen, but I told you, I'm not dating him, and even if I was, I wouldn't drag him to work with me. He's at school."

My heart twisted. Christ, at school. The last time we'd been together, we'd been in school. Seeing that kid's unlined face had really driven home the years that had gone by between then and now. Was Tav still the same? Would this version of Tav tell me what the fuck had been so wrong with me that he'd dumped me without a fucking word?

I blew out a long breath. None of that mattered. It hadn't mattered then, and it sure as shit didn't now.

"It's not my business, I guess. Or maybe it is? But didn't you want a driver to take you to work and such?" He quirked his eyebrows. "Course, I'm happy to be paid to stand here all day, I suppose."

My hand twitched. I wanted to rub my eyes and sigh, but it was way too early in the day for that crap. "Ha fucking ha. You're driving me to Windsor Racetrack."

He let out a low whistle. "Isn't that about two hours away from here?"

"Yes, and that's part of why I want a driver. It will be nice to work on the way." I sighed. "Will you need directions?"

He held up a finger, and I could tell by the way the corner of his mouth curled that he was about to do something he thought was very hilarious and would make me want to slap him. He dragged his phone out of his pocket and held it up, showcasing it like it was a prize on a game show. "I can work the interweb."

Without a word, I tossed him the keys for my Honda Prologue, which he fumbled but held on to, and then I got into the back seat on the passenger side. I wasn't sure why. I could've chosen to sit directly behind him, and then I wouldn't have to look at his stupid handsome face, but apparently, I was doing dumb shit this week. Tav got in, settled his phone in the holder attached to the windshield, and then turned on the car.

"Is there somethin' goin' on at the track today or are you just goin' to get in a bit of gamblin'?"

"It isn't a horse track." I rolled my eyes and glared at him as he pulled the car forward and took us down the driveway to begin our journey. I grabbed my laptop from the spot where I'd tossed it earlier, when I'd first come outside to wait, and powered it up, settling in to get as much work done as possible. "Yes, that's me, gambling in the middle of the workday," I snarked.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

His flippant responses used to make me snicker and go into fits of laughter, and when we were together, he would sneak attack me with kisses. I angrily poked the buttons to put my password into the computer.

"It's an event for work."

Tav hummed thoughtfully. "What kind of?—"

"Can you be quiet?" I snapped.

For a while he was silent, and the world outside flew past as he navigated the car toward the highway. I was deep into comparison of our tire prices with our closest competitors' when he sighed, dragging my attention back to his strong profile.

"What?"

"Why did you ask me to do this? Really?" He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and stole a quick glance at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Why don't you just watch the road? You were in an accident recently." I smirked, and excitement zinged through my belly as he grinned back.

"Yeah, well, you were technically in two accidents, so I suppose it makes sense you'd want me to drive." He popped his tongue into his cheek and raised his eyebrows before cutting a longer look at me, but after a few seconds, he went back to paying attention to the road.

My first inclination was to laugh. Tav had been one of my favorite people, once upon a time, but the reminder of that fact made me want to curse him out. Instead of doing anything at all, I went back to silently glaring at my computer. Maybe tomorrow I would see if I could find another job for him in the company because I would probably have a stroke if I kept this shit up. There was only so much anger one person could hold in before it did something dangerous to them—or someone else.

What felt like seconds later my door was opening, and I glanced around because the car was parked. Tav leaned his forearm against the roof and had to bend down. I was taller, but God, there just weren't many men like him around, and an instant sizzle shot through my belly to my dick. By the way his eyes widened as he stared at me, I thought maybe I wasn't alone in that. He glanced at my mouth, then cleared his throat.

"You still wearing Armani Mania?" he asked, voice husky.

I felt like I was choking as I shook my head. He'd nailed my cologne choice perfectly, but like hell I was telling him that. Shit, did he just say I smell good? I put a foot on the ground, and he backed away. I felt a little stupid as he closed the door for me, tipping an imaginary cap. My face scalded as I turned toward the venue. The parking lot was crowded, and I knew who some of the vehicles belonged to by sight—most of the dealership owners in the area were here today.

"Tire expo?" Tav asked, sounding confused as he read the marquee.

I started walking without saying a word.

"You're welcome," he called after me. "Should I stay with the car or what?"

"No," I snapped over my shoulder. "Come with me." I gave in and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. Why hadn't I considered this when I'd asked him to drive me? What the hell would he do while I was working? At the ticket counter I simply waved and held up my badge for Dailey Tires, and the woman taking cash from other people nodded as I grabbed Tav's elbow and tugged him through the turnstiles.

"Didn't know you thought I would get lost so easily," he joked. Maybe he was nervous because humor had always been his go-to in tough situations.

"Yeah, you do have a track record of running away," I snarled.

He tensed under my hand, and I let him go before he could get his act together to shake me loose. Around the green at the center of the racetrack were about twenty booths displaying different types of tires for every occasion—sand, snow, all season, street racing, and track racing. We were the only ones manufactured specifically for ice, though.

I smirked at Mike June, who was holding down the counter at his booth. He owned Comet Tires, and he thought he had the winter market cornered. He waved back with a scowl he didn't bother to hide, and I thought maybe his middle finger flashed my way, but I didn't stop.

"So, why are we here?" Tav asked, sounding genuinely confused. I pointed at my booth, the biggest one on the right at the end of the row with Dailey Tires emblazoned across a huge banner at the top, then Home of the Ice Tire below that. Several employees were busy handing out fliers to men and women, who were likely from local dealerships, while they let the future customers run their fingers over the special microtread my company had created.

"My ice tires are going to change winter driving all over the world," I said, feeling pretty proud. I flashed Tav a grin.

"Very cool," he said. He did this thing when he was pleased where he bounced on his heels, and my heart skipped a beat as he did it. "So, you designed them?" He looked at me, eyebrows raised. "Always were pretty smart."

"Well, no." I slowed to a stop, and he followed my lead.

"You had input in it, though?"

Cupping my hands on the back of my neck, I eyed him up. "Not exactly."

"Seems like they're not really yours then?" He cocked his head to the side.

"I'm funding them and selling them. Well, Dailey Tires is doing all that, but I was essential in securing the capital to let us do the initial run on the new tires." My face burned like the center of the sun.

He gave me a serious amount of side eye that I did not deserve.

"They'll make a lot of money," I growled, then stomped toward my booth.

"Uh-huh," he said, trailing after me.

Fuck, how did he make me feel so stupid?

"Hey, Judah!" Bill Wylan slapped me on the back as I stopped next to my booth. He was about a hundred, if he was a day, and his jowls wobbled. "This is something else." He laughed, a husky brittle sound.

"Thanks! We have some test tires. Do you think your son would like to try them out?"

He wheezed, which became a dry cough that had me wincing. "You know it. Your dad loaned me the cash to start my dealership forty years ago. Did you know that?"

My stomach fell. Nepotism wasn't what I wanted to use to sell these tires because they were a good new product, but I nodded and smiled. "He always had faith in you."

"And we'll always sell the Dailey brands. Don't work so hard, son," he said, giving me another slap. "Have a drink." He pointed to a booth nearby selling beer. "Enjoy the day."

He wandered off, and when I turned, Tav was staring at his feet, but I knew he'd probably heard all that. My ears were burning by the time April and Tascha, the two models we'd hired to be our saleswomen today, noticed me and gave me small waves. Clark, who led the sales team, looked like he was in heaven surrounded by rubber and beautiful women. There were some interns lingering around to run errands who inched toward the back of the booth when I stepped closer. It was a dirty trick—hiring models at what was normally a man-heavy event—but Dad had suggested it, and damned if we weren't getting a larger crowd than anyone else.

Despite the foot traffic, the morning dragged past at a snail's pace. We had a fully staffed and well-informed sales team, which meant I'd done my job perfectly—and I probably could've stayed home instead of hovering nearby. Occasionally someone recognized me and came to talk, usually men who'd been financed at one point or another by my father.

At noon someone from each booth took one of their best tires out onto the track for the tire race, which was always ridiculous. You had to roll the tire all the way around the track once without letting it fall, and the first person back usually got free beer for the rest of the day—along with bragging rights for the year. We sent out April and Tascha, and the crowd lined up around the track went crazy. I saw cell phones raised. Dailey Tires was slapped across their back and front, so the attention, wherever it was aimed, was perfect.

It occurred to me that I hadn't seen Tav in a while, and my stomach shriveled until I spotted him nearby drinking a Sprite. Then, anger boiled in my gut as he leaned over to say something to a man standing beside him. I had never seen the guy in my life, but he was younger than us, with curly brown hair and big brown eyes. His smile was the kind that made people linger and look at his pretty lips. Tav said something that had him grinning from ear to ear.

The kapow of a starter pistol made me flinch. Resentment slithered through me, and I stomped over to Tav, ignoring the laughter and hooting and whistles as everyone from all the different booths took off, balancing the tires. The joyful atmosphere didn't mellow my mood.

"Take me back to the office," I snapped in Tav's direction.

"Yeah, sure. Bye, Brian!"

The kid gave him a shy smile and waved.

Brian.Of course he'd gotten a name. I started to feel dumb by the time I reached my car and threw myself into the back seat. This wasn't me. I didn't get worked up about people—even when I should. I ran a hand down my face as Tav slid in behind the steering wheel.

"Let's go. To the office."

"What crawled up your arse?" Tav asked, starting the car. He immediately eased out of the parking spot and back toward the road.

"Do not talk to me that way," I muttered.

He hummed. "Fine. What crawled up your butt?" He smiled over his shoulder at me, and I glared right back.

"Nothing, but that guy wanted in yours," I snarked. "Brian sure was tasty."

He snorted, then chuckled, giving me another look, as if checking to see if I was joking or not. "No, he didn't."

Tav pulled over to the side of the road, causing whoever had been directly behind us to beep their horn, but he didn't pay attention—he simply swiveled in his seat to stare at me. "Why don't you just say what you want to say, and we can cut through all the bullshite." He set his jaw and stared directly into my fucking soul. Damn it, how did he do that?

Shaking my head, I crossed my arms. "Just take me to my office before you break a record and end up jobless two days in a row."

"Not much of a record. Been jobless two days in a row plenty of times," he mumbled, and fuck me, but I wanted to laugh—just a little.

Instead of working, I opened my laptop and stewed. By the time the car stopped, I hadn't accomplished much of anything. I probably should've stayed the hell home and slept—it would've done about the same amount of good. When I glanced out the window, I was shocked because I was staring at Tav's dilapidated truck.

"Why did you bring me home?" I asked, stunned.

He shrugged and turned around to rest his chin on the seat, which put his mouth way too close to me. Fuck, his lips looked as kissable as they ever did. "You were busy having your temper tantrum and didn't tell me where you work."

Fury ate at me again—this time at myself—and I got out, slamming the door hard. The crack was satisfying, but then I was left staring at Tav once more as he emerged to stand near me.

"What's your problem?" he asked quietly with an infuriatingly calm expression.

"What were you laughing about with that asshole at the expo?" I jabbed a finger at him, but he was too far away to connect with his muscled chest. Fuck, did he lift?

He studied me and both of his eyebrows shot up. He bit the corner of his mouth, then shook his head. "I laugh easy enough. Why do you care?"

Twenty fucking years I'd been wondering what I'd done wrong with him.

About every six months I would find some reason to drag the memories out of the cobwebs and go over them with a bottle of Jack Daniel's in my lap like a cheap PI from a bad film noir piece. I never went so far as to pull my shoebox full of pictures out of the fucking closet, but I didn't have to do that. I knew what each and every photo looked like anyway. They were all tattooed on my brain and refused to fade with time.

Stepping in, I snagged his cheeks and crashed my lips against his. I was so fucking mad at this man. I bit his bottom lip, and he growled, but he also melted against me and wrapped his arms around my waist, dragging me close. I stumbled and turned, slamming him against the side of the car. I thought maybe I'd hurt him because he grunted, but I didn't stop, simply shoved my leg between his and devoured his mouth, searching for something. Maybe an answer to how I'd lost my fucking mind between yesterday and today....

Or was that between twenty years ago and now?

I didn't know, but I couldn't get enough of the way he growled. His lips parted, and I claimed his mouth, tangling the tip of my tongue around his. The second I felt his cock swelling and pushing against my thigh, liquid lust streaked out through my veins and nearly put me on my knees.

I pulled far enough away to glare into his eyes. "I fucking hate you," I snapped.

"Feeling's mutual." He dragged me closer by my tie and sealed his mouth to mine.