Bang the Blower (Country Roads 3)
“Frank,” she said patiently. “I can talk to you throughout the race, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s right. We’ll have us a good time out there today, won’t we?”
His enthusiasm touched her. If Julie had only known how much this meant to Frank, she would’ve made the switch from dragsters to stock cars long before now. Then again, the experience changed her life.
She strolled toward her car with the men she loved most walking behind her—Frank, Hank, and Duke. Lined up with the other competitors, Julie stood beside the machine love built, and couldn’t help but hold her head high with pride. Other drivers hugged their families. Most of them said good-bye to their wives. A few of them embraced their children or kissed a girlfriend farewell.
In racing, the drivers recognized the last kiss or hug before an event could be the final kiss or hug good-bye. Without thinking—not that it would’ve mattered, if she’d stopped to consider the potential fallout or media attention—she grabbed Hank and hugged him. When he released her too soon, she grabbed him again and kissed him like tomorrow would never come. Then, she turned to Duke and kissed him, too.
“You’re gonna cause a stink, little girl,” Frank told her when she pecked his cheek.
“I hope so,” she said. “That’s what I love about racing.”
“What’s that?” Frank asked, arching a brow.
“It’s a man’s world. It’s the only place a woman can act like a man without getting condemned.”
“I don’t know about that,” Hank said, tapping the car roof when she finally took her seat and secured the safety belts. “Good luck out there.”
“We don’t need much, do we
, Frank?”
“No, little girl. We got all the luck we need between you and me.”
After the national anthem, the fighter jets flew overhead. As they ripped through the air, Julie thought about the fears she didn’t have then. In many ways, Frank’s life philosophies were right. The art of winning a race often came down to the man or woman who believed they’d already won.
“Here we go, boys,” she said, waving good-bye. “I’ll see you on the start side of the finish line, Frank.”
“I’ll be there!”
She never doubted that for a second. In his mind, she was the clear winner. Now, she had to show the world what made a champion in stock car racing.
With stark determination, she clutched her steering wheel. The Master of Ceremonies took the microphone. “Men and women, start your engines!”
“Go on out there and win this race!” Duke exclaimed.
“We’ll do it,” she assured him and winked at Hank. “You two hang around. After I win this thing, I’ll be ready to celebrate.”
“After you win this thing, we may take you out and marry you,” Duke teased.
“As long as I don’t have to say ‘to have and to hold,’ we should be okay.”
“What?” Hank screeched, yelling over the roar of engines.
The cars started darting out of the pits taking their place on the track. Before she pulled out, she called out behind her, “You’d have to catch me first!”
THE END