Dirt Driven (Racing on the Edge Book 11)

we had now. Sure, I didn’t get to fuck my wife as often as I wanted, but we had our kids with us every day and showing them what life had to offer.
And then I took a knee to the balls and regretted everything I just said. Taking the pillow beside me, I smashed it over my face and groaned, bringing my knees up. “Fuuuuck.” I saw stars. Not even joking. My fucking face was beet red and I wanted to scream out loud.
“Okay, crazies, let’s let Daddy have a minute,” Arie urged, laughter on her lips.
“Daddy?” Hudson ripped the pillow off my face and then hit me with it. “Ouch?”
I couldn’t speak to answer him. Babies are dicks.
Arie took him off the bed. “You have an autograph session in about fifty minutes.”
I curled into the pillow so rudely taken from my face. “Where?”
“The merchandise trailer. You, Caden, and Dad.” Arie’s eyes lifted from her cell phone as Hudson hung off her hip. “Axel and Casten already did theirs.”
We found that most days Casten and I weren’t allowed to do autograph sessions together. If you knew Casten, you understood why nobody wanted to stand next to him in front of fans. He once offered me up on a date with a dude.
“Can you change him for me? I need to clean up and then I have to meet with Jerry and my mom about the schedule changes for Calistoga and Chico.”
Nodding, I took Hudson from her arms, only to have him start crying and telling me no every time I tried to change his diaper. “Listen, boy,” I said firmly, trying to make him listen to me. “I don’t like changing your diaper any more than you like having it done. So you either learn to use the toilet, or we do this.” I wanted to add, stop fucking up my sex life, but it was because of that sex life we had this kid.
He frowned, and though I know the little shit knew exactly what I was telling him, he acted as if I wasn’t making any sense to him. Squirming around on the bed, he kicked, screamed, and nearly drop-kicked my throat, but I got his diaper changed—without him peeing on me like he usually did.
Arie frowned when he came running out of our bedroom in only his diaper. “Aren’t you going to put his clothes back on?” I stared at her, confused. She didn’t tell me that part. She said change him, and I did. Her eyes dragged down my body, hunger in her stare. “And yours?”
Right. I still hadn’t put on any clothes. At least I had my boxer briefs on, but still. Naked for the most part.
Rosa, who was sitting on the lounge chair next to the door, smiled at me. “I don’t think you need to put on clothes.”
Of course she didn’t. Turning around, I made my way back into the bedroom to get dressed. Arie was waiting for me outside the motor home, the kids heading inside Sway and Jameson’s motor home parked on the other side of ours. We moved from the parking lot of the truck stop to the track at noon. I took a much-needed nap, but it wasn’t doing anything for my annoyance this morning.
Especially when I saw my wife wearing jean shorts and a tank top falling off her shoulders. I glared at her for tempting me with that curve of her neck and that ass I wanted to grab a handful of even though her dad was walking toward us.
I held her stare for a long beat as she stood there. “Why are you glaring at me?” she asked, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
I shrugged and righted my JAR Racing hat. “You left me hanging.”
“I’m sorry.” Her cheeks flushed, her eyes on her dad. “I asked if you wanted to finish. And you said no.”
I didn’t get a chance to say anything before Jameson approached on a four-wheeler. Smiling, he nodded to Arie who took off on it toward the pits. Jameson stood next to me. “Ready?”
I walked with him toward merchandise trailers lined up next to the front gates of Thunderbowl Raceway. The afternoon sun warmed the back of my neck, the sounds of torque wrenches and impact guns filling the silence between us. These days, my mind had been elsewhere, and I think Jameson understood. He’d been where I was now—on a losing streak so far this year. Through the pit lane speakers, I could hear “Ladies and Gentlemen” by Salvia and smiled when I noticed Gray rocking out to it outside Casten’s merchandise trailer. Only she was on the damn roof. A place all the older kids loved to climb on. They hung out on the race haulers during the races and thought they could climb on top of everything after that.
Jameson smiled up at her, standing near the hitch with his hands on his hips. “Gray, get down.”
Peeking over the edge, she frowned. “Why?”
“Because it’s dangerous.” She offered him a glare and I knew exactly where this was going. “Get down,” he snapped, and she was scrambling down the ladder a second later.
She didn’t say a word as she stomped away back to the motor homes.
Jameson shook his head, laughter on his lips. And then he eyed me when I leaned against the side of my merchandise trailer, wishing I hadn’t agreed to sign autographs this morning. “What’s wrong?”
I shrugged. “Tired.”
“Did Lane and Jensen get the car repaired okay?”
“Yeah. Took them until four in the morning but we got it. Caden, Tommy, and Zac helped us out.”
He smiled, and I knew it was because the team had been working together. “How’s Jensen working out?”
I shifted my stance when I noticed Hayden approaching with the keys to the trailers, the row of fans starting to accumulate near the gate. “He seems good. Nice kid.” Jensen O’Neil was our newest team guy who paired up well with Lane. He knew him