Acres, Natalie - Pole Position [Country Roads 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Natalie Acres

hopped out, afraid she’d never have the opportunity to hug them again. She’d hurried into Brant’s arms and noticed a tear in his eye. That tear was her undoing.
    “Princess, are you with us?” Marty, her crew chief, snapped in her ear. “Princess! Is everything okay?”
    She stared down pit road and realized then she was the only driver standing beside their car. She strapped on her helmet and slid inside the cage, taking the time to fasten her belt and prepare for the start.
    “Princess! Come in! You doin’ all right out there, doll?” Marty asked. Her crew chief had high hopes. He wanted her to bring home the win, but if Princess didn’t get her head screwed on straight, she’d end up in the wall.
    Her teammate Larry Burkenton was in her ear, too, “Princess, I need some help out there. You’re a lightweight, but I don’t wanna carry your little ass to the finish.”
    She blinked at that and shook off the fantasies. “The day you carry me across the finish line will be the day you bury me!”
    “Don’t tempt fate, sugar,” Larry shot back. “We’re not exactly getting ready for a game of golf here today.”
    “Damn,” she said. “And here I thought I’d get to play with some balls.”
    “Shit!” Marty screamed. “Princess! Watch it out there today. You never know who is listening, and I really don’t want to spend the next forty-eight hours listening to playbacks of your foul language on every sports show in America.”
    “Me either,” she said. “In fact, I’ve gotta a few men to impress. I don’t want them hearing me talk like a tramp.”
    “You gotta be one to earn the title,” Larry said.
    “I’ll let you know when my legs are open for visitors, Larry,” she said, smiling as she gripped the wheel. “I know you’ll be first in line.” She gunned her engine then, and deliberately shut out the verbal retaliation. She liked Larry, but at times, their banter got out of hand. They’d wheeled into pit road several times, mad as the daylights at one another.
    Her mind began to travel again. She thought of all the things she’d forgotten to ask Brant and Colt. She really wished she’d asked if they were seeing anyone. She really wished she’d kissed them. Or better still, invited them back for a drink.
    “I wonder if it’s okay for a woman to invite a man back to her camper for a nightcap at eight o’clock in the evening?” she asked, thinking aloud.
    Snickers came at her from all the way around. “Shit.”
    “Damn,” one driver said, transmitting through the airwaves loud and clear. “Whenever you want it that early, you come see me.”
    She recognized that voice and she’d also put a face with the body she’d seen the night before. She wasn’t sure why she thought of it now, but she fired back with, “David Lambert, is that you?”
    “I’m touched. She acknowledges the little guy,” David said, apparently starting to take stock in what others around him believed. He hadn’t won a race, and he wasn’t going to win one. All he cared about was the party.
    “About that,” she said, realizing hundreds, if not thousands were listening in. “I wanted to let you know I saw your little punch-and-go last night outside my window.”
    “Huh?” David was dumbfounded. As usual.
    “My trailer is set up near one of the spotlights, hon. I saw the outline of that thing clear as day. ‘Little guy’ sums it up.”
    Laughter and outright cackling filled the lines then.
    “Damn it, Princess!” Marty screamed out. “Get your head out of the gutter.”
    David grunted. “One of these days, you’re gonna be on here teasing about what you’d do with a guy if you had one and somebody out there—somebody who doesn’t know you as well as we do—is gonna look you up.”
    “I’ll still be watching for you, David,” she teased. “At least if I’m with you, I know you ain’t gonna hurt me with that thing.”
    The outrageous laughter continued.
    Princess looked over in the