Pole Position (Country Roads 2)

Brant’s nostrils flared and his jaw set. “What do you mean he ruled with an iron fist? Did he abuse you?”

“Oh no, nothing like that.” She paused and waved at a race fan. “The truth is, I’m standing here today doing what I love because my father had a dream.”

“He wanted you pole dancing?” Colt asked.

“No, silly,” she replied, blushing. “But he did want me on the pole.”

“What?” Colt asked, trying to follow her.

“Wrong pole,” Brant snipped.

“Do you know anything about stock car racing or not?” Princess asked.

“Not much,” Colt admitted.

She cut her gaze at Brant.

“Don’t look at me.”

“I have a lot to teach you two. The pole position is one of the most desirable positions on the track at the start of the race.”

A fan rushed her before she continued. “May I have your autograph, Miss Sterling?”

“Sure,” she said, elated as she signed the piece of paper stuck in front of her face. “What’s your name?”

“Laura,” the young lady said.

She hurriedly scribbled across the notepad. “Who do you have picked to win tomorrow?”

Laura grinned. “You, of course.”

Princess winked after the fan walked away. “See there? My father’s dreams are coming true.”

“What about you?” Colt asked, studying her face, searching for the little girl they refused to leave behind in Kentucky.

She shrugged. “You might be surprised at how simple my dreams are.” She jumped up like she had somewhere to go in a hurry. “And you might be surprised to know that after all these years I still dream about you, and I’m still awaiting that fairy-tale ending.”

* * * *

Later that evening, Princess was in her bed all alone. She tossed and turned one way or the other, trying to hold on to the parting words she’d had with Brant and Colt. After she’d signed autographs, she’d returned to the pub to thank the owners, and then they’d walked her to her car. Once there, she’d asked them if they planned to stay for the race. After they promised they’d be around, she’d given each of them a peck on their cheeks and said goodnight.

Why hadn’t she thought to invite them back to her camper for a drink? Why had she been so timid when she reached over to plant a kiss on each of their cheeks? Why hadn’t she given them each a saucy peck on their lips?

“Why? Why? Why?” she whined aloud.

Tossing another pillow under her neck, she stretched her arms overhead and stared at the ceiling. In the distance, she could hear the partygoers having a good time. Sometimes she wondered what it might be like to go from town to town, bed to bed.

She never considered that possibility long.

Princess had grown up with nothing. She’d been dirt poor, and even after Colt and Brant pulled her out of her horrible conditions, she still wasn’t exactly pampered or cherished until the Sterling family saved her from foster care. Life was easier then, but she’d been alone a lot. Her parents traveled with their racing team and they were big partiers when they weren’t racing. Her mother liked to swing and her father did whatever her mother told him to do.

Princess didn’t want a relationship like her parents had. She wanted an everlasting love to call her own. And she’d always known precisely where she’d find what she desired most.

Naturally, her little-girl dreams were quite distorted, not to mention purely innocent. In the back of her mind, she’d thought Brant and Colt would wait for her to track them down.

If they were gay as her mother had suggested, then she would love them straight. Then, they would be a family. As she matured, she realized she’d never have to worry about their sexual orientation. She recalled bits and pieces of conversation, flirtatious remarks they each made to women, and once she became a woman, her dreams turned into delicious fantasies.

Princess smiled at that. She still wanted children…someday. She wondered, sometimes, why her parents never wanted more children of their own, not that she was ungrateful for the opportunities for which she’d been given.