Pole Position (Country Roads 2)

“My adoptive father.”

“Yes, I remember,” he said, realizing he sounded a bit harsh.

“He was killed in a stock car. Imagine that, huh? Don’t you follow racing?”

“He does now,” Brant said, rushing them. “Look at you, kid. You’re all grown up.”

Somehow, Brant kept his eyes from going on tour. Unfortunately, Colt hadn’t stopped staring. Lucky for him, he was able to keep reminding himself of the little girl she’d once been. Otherwise, he might have taken more than her body in his arms. He might have stolen away with her lips soon thereafter.

Thank God he remembered. Still, the memori

es were rapidly fading.

Colt released her and she immediately gave Brant a hug. Her thin limbs wrapped around his neck and she pressed her chest to his, squeezing him. Then, she turned around with open arms ready for Colt again. “Let me get a hold of you!”

She whipped her little body around him and held him to her. “I swear if I’d known how good-looking you two would be when you grew up, I would’ve fought that judge myself.”

“You wouldn’t have won,” Brant told her, a total look of disgust washing over him.

“Well, yeah, I know all about that now,” Princess said. “Back then, I had a problem with it. I used to cry myself to sleep until one day my mother came in and sat down and explained everything.” A beat later she added, “It must’ve been really difficult for the two of you.”

“It was,” Brant replied. “We made plans, of course. We moved in together in hopes of projecting the right kind of image for the judge and those in child services, in the event the judge didn’t find appropriate parents for you. We wanted to keep you, but we were young. We weren’t appropriate parents for a little girl. You know that, right?”

Her head tilted to the side and she said, “I always knew that. You two were the only people I’d ever known who tried to give me a chance. I wasn’t much to look at back then, a scrawny kid with a dirty face, and somehow, you saw potential and well, look at me now.”

“Yeah,” Brant said. “You still get a little grease on your face. I read the sports page on the Internet, and you’ve been known to get your hands dirty.”

“Yesterday it was mud and filth and today, oil and smoke.” She sighed and her mouth twisted around like she further pondered what might have happened all those years ago. “So are the two of you still together?”

“Still live right there in Morristown,” Brant replied.

“That’s great!” she exclaimed. “I know it must’ve been so difficult on you coming out like you did in order to get a judge to award you custody.”

Brant nodded in agreement. “It was…wait a minute. What do you mean by coming out?”

“You know,” Princess teased. “Out of the closet?”

Brant and Colt stared at one another. Colt swallowed the bile in the back of his throat and said, “You mean your momma told you we were gay?”

“Aren’t you?” she asked.

“Hell no!” they exclaimed together. “Why on earth would you think something like that?”

Princess smiled. “Relax. I don’t think you’re gay but you know that’s why the judge wouldn’t let me stay with you while they found an appropriate home for me, don’t you? That’s what my mom always said. She told me that it was difficult for gay men to raise a little girl, particularly in the South.”

“We aren’t gay, kid,” Brant said, still calling her by the nickname he gave her all those years ago.

“I never believed that for a minute,” she assured them.

Colt cleared his throat. He didn’t want to go back and rehash all those memories. They were too painful. Besides, looking at her now he was certain things worked out as they should. He didn’t need to revisit the past. Not now. Not when tomorrow looked a hell of a lot brighter than yesterday or the day before.

“Mr. and Mrs. Sterling wanted you, Princess. You’ve had a good life, haven’t you?” Colt asked, his heart threatening to collapse if she told him otherwise.

She shrugged. “I can’t complain. They were strict, but they loved me.”

Colt tilted his head toward the other girls flaunting their assets. “I don’t think they were firm enough.”

“Believe me, my father ruled with an iron fist.”