Dirt Driven (Racing on the Edge Book 11)

and his dad, Parker, from his dirt bike days.
Hayden took off the other direction, without opening the trailer, and left Jameson and me standing there wondering what the fuck she was doing. Jameson looked at me, confused. “Do you have keys?”
“No, I think Arie has them because she needed into it this morning.”
He stared at the fence behind us. “Shit.”
I glanced over at the pits where Hayden had disappeared to. “Maybe she’ll come back?”
“With her, you never know.” He gave me a nod and motioned to my cheek. “That from E or Hudson?”
“Guess he got me a couple times.” Rubbing my hand down the side of my jaw, I realized it was a bit tender. I didn’t want to admit it but Easton had landed a few.
“What was that about?”
I looked up from the dirt to Jameson. “What do you mean?”
“The race or Arie?
“Both,” I admitted.
Jameson chuckled, reaching up to adjust his hat when the sun peeked over the row of haulers to our left. “I’d hit the fucker too.”
Jameson had his fair share of pit fights over the years and I could count on one hand the number related to Sway. Most of the time they were racing related, but every once in a while, other racers would try their hand at the famous Rowdy Riley wife. In fact, last year at Pevely was a prime example. A late model racer, Chase Stockton, got frisky with Sway while she was at the concessions knowing damn well whose wife she was. Sway didn’t say much about it, but Jameson did. Fast-forward to the heats, Stockton was running up near the cushion and Jameson pulled a slider on him but took the air off him and gave no room on the exit. Stockton wadded his car up and never made the main event.
The thing was, it was a clean move, but his point was made where Stockton sat with Rowdy Riley. And Easton knew where he stood with me. I wouldn’t tolerate his shit anymore. For months he’d been showing up at tracks where we were, and I knew the ties he held with Riley Racing. It didn’t mean I had to take his shit though.
I tried to remind myself it didn’t matter, regardless, because I had the girl and always would. He’d never get an opening with her again as far as I was concerned.
Hayden returned with the key and Hudson on her hip. She handed him over to me, and then he lunged for Jameson. “He apparently kicked Ryder and got himself black flagged with Grandma.”
“Buddy.” Jameson sucked in a breath. “Why are you so mean to everyone?”
Hudson ignored the question and smacked his hand to Jameson’s cheek, and then stole his hat. “Papa, my hat.”
“No, that’s mine. You stole four of my hats lately.” He tried to take it from him as Hayden unlocked the merchandise trailer, but he let out a shrieking scream. “Okay, five hats.”
Inside the trailer, he set Hudson on the counter beside us as the fans formed a line outside. They aww’d over Hudson clinging to me, only because he wanted the Sharpie in my hand. Any other time, he wanted nothing to do with me.
“Hudson looks so much like Arie,” one fan said, handing me a poster to sign. I smiled, prying the pen from his tiny fist.
“Yeah, he’s got his mama’s temper too,” I teased when he started crying, knowing this monster was 100 percent me when I was younger.
“Or his papa’s,” another fan said, smiling at Jameson.
Jameson snorted beside me and poked Hudson’s diaper butt with the Sharpie in his hand. “Do ya hear that, buddy? They’re teasin’ us.”
Growling at Jameson, Hudson scrunched up his face.
“See?” Jameson rolled his eyes. “We’re nothing alike. I don’t growl at people.”
“Yeah, right,” Hayden added behind us.
Kicking his leg back, Jameson tripped Hayden and she nailed her shin on a box lying in the middle of the trailer.
Caden entered the trailer next, a swarm of excitement from the younger girls standing in line. They loved him. He got the nickname Caden “The Kid” Carson because at eighteen, he was the youngest driver on the tour and had everyone from sixteen to thirty in love with him. Including Gray. She wouldn’t tell anyone, or admit to it, but look at her. She’d suddenly appeared in the trailer to “help” with the signing and standing as close as she can to him.
Caden noticed Gray and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Hey, kid.”
“Hey, yourself.” I could tell by the look on her face, she didn’t like being called kid. It reminded me of Abigale and her crush on me. Now that the Pretty Princess turned eleven and had a boyfriend, I was no longer her favorite racer. Can’t say I was too bent about it though.
“Mind if I join ya?” Caden teased, standing next to me and nudging Hudson’s knee carefully as I tried to balance him and sign autographs at the same time.
Hudson snatched up Caden’s Sharpie immediately. “Mine.”
Caden scowled playfully at him tickling his sides. “I’m not scared of you, Hornet.”
Yep. Hudson had a nickname already. Hornet. Because he was mean as fuck most of the time. I don’t know what happened. Pace and Knox weren’t like him, but this little shit was just plain mean most of the time.
To avoid a full-blown tantrum, Hayden handed us a mountain of Sharpies and enough to Hudson that he couldn’t fit anymore in his hands. And a cookie for good measure. “Now don’t bite or kick anyone.”
He stared at her, blank-faced. No way he’d agree to that.
For an hour, we stood in the sun signing autographs and joking around with one another. Sweat trickled down my neck when an older woman struck up a conversation with me. “Where are Pace, Knox, and Bristol?”
It was weird to me that people took so much interest in our kids. I swear most of the fans came down to the pits after a race to catch sight of them. “With their