Dirt Driven (Racing on the Edge Book 11)

a hold of Pace’s hand, he smiled up at me. “Hi, Mama!”
“Hey, buddy. You have to stay with an adult. You can’t run wild in the pits.”
He looked at me like he didn’t know what the fuck I was talking about. And he probably didn’t because I had to tell them that every damn night. When I was a kid, this was literally burned into our brains. Do not run away the pits unattended. My dad actually made us repeat it to him before we ever entered the pits for the night.
“I’m serious, Pace. You guys keep running off and you’ll be confined to the motor home until the races are done.”
That got his attention and a pair of bright blue eyes landed on mine. “Okay.”
With little regard to anything around her, Bristol ran straight toward Rager where he was getting his helmet on. I wanted to warn him that Easton was here but hadn’t gotten that far.
Kinsley smiled tenderly at me, her mess of brown curls tied up out of her face. Her cheeks red, her belly sticking out past her shorts. Being nine months pregnant and on the road, I knew exactly how she felt. I went into labor with all my kids at dirt tracks. Okay, the twins I was at Disney World, but it still felt like the track because we had been racing that week.
I had a feeling Kinsley would be the same. “Hey, Caden is looking for you,” she told me. “Something about an autograph session tonight?”
“Right, thanks. Yes, they have one scheduled between time trails and the opening ceremonies. I’ll go find him now.” Caden was our newest driver to join JAR Racing after Justin and Cody retired. He was only nineteen and Kinsley eighteen, but they were the cutest kids ever, and making one of their own.
I watched as Knox stumbled in the dirt and then fell face first into it. “Ouch.” He frowned, staring at his busted-up knees.
“You okay, buddy?”
He nodded and wiped the blood, smearing it on his hand.
Sighing, I picked him up. “Rosa, do you have any Band-Aids in your fanny pack?”
Her eyes widened. “No. I have juice boxes.”
And by juice boxes she meant wine she poured into used apple juice boxes. Yep. I left my kids with this crazy.
Back at our pit, Knox in one hand, Pace in the other, I found Rager as he was getting inside his car for motor heat. Bristol bounced beside me, a tear-off in her hand and one of Rager’s gloves in the other, trying to get it on her tiny hands.
Taking it from her, I handed it back to Rager, who was strapping into the car. He nodded, taking it and I leaned in. “Easton’s here,” I told him, trying to carry my voice over the sound of the motor.
He looked at me, shook his head and tapped the side of his helmet. Which meant he couldn’t hear me. “What?” he yelled.
I shook my head and stepped back. There was no sense in trying to yell over the noise of the engines.
As the lights in the pits burst to life behind us, the team pushed the car back away from the hauler when the pit horn sounded.
I didn’t get a chance to warn him who’d be on the track with him.
Shit. Guess he was about the find out sooner rather than later.
I’d love to say my ex-husband and my husband got along, but I’d be lying.
They hated each other. And they technically drove for the same guy. My dad.
Tonight should be interesting, especially considering my kids were drinking apple juice from boxes, and I wasn’t entirely sure if Rosa gave them the wine-filled ones or actual apple juice. Judging by the fear in her eyes, I didn’t think she knew either.

Dicing – Close, exciting racing between two or more racers. Positions are exchanged frequently.
I knew at some point Rager and Easton would be on a track together. It was inevitable. But I didn’t think it would come like this, with Easton racing sprint cars. He hadn’t been in one in ten years. And that he showed up tonight made me think it was planned. He knew we’d be in town. It wasn’t like he showed up at a random dirt track to try his luck at open wheel again.
He showed up at a World of Outlaws event. That was planned.
I also wasn’t sure what to make of being around Jessie, who’d been his assistant when we were married, now his wife and carrying around a kid on her hip. It was all very strange. I had absolutely no idea how to react. Part of me wanted to laugh that it didn’t work out with him and the model, but then again, ha fucking ha. Bastard.
Before the trophy dash started and driver introductions, I took the kids out of the pits.
At every track we visited, there were a row of motor homes the crew guys called JAR Alley. The JAR Racing team and its crew and drivers were seldom separated. We traveled, ate meals, and partied together. Our motor homes were parked next to one another and we planned everything from laundry days to the days drinking most of the day was suitable. Which happened often. Most of the crew guys stayed in hotels, but they knew where to come for a good time. JAR Alley. It was also where we took care of our kids.
With my brood in hand, I made my way outside the pit gates and to the row of JAR Racing motor homes. No sooner did I go around the corner, I heard the door to Casten’s motor home open.
“That lady is crazy.” As the guys left the pits, one by one, Gray, Casten’s oldest daughter, came out of their motor home and slammed the door behind her. “She expects me to do this crap.”
I smiled at Hayden, who had their youngest little girl sleeping on her hip. “I agree. She’s a bit crazy, but