Page 62 of Ride or Die

“I want to kiss you so fuckin’ bad right now,” Cole utters, his eyes dipping down to my lips yet again.

Immediately I feel my fight or flight kick into gear. Because despite how comfortable I am with him right now, my heart and my brain are at odds because I want him to kiss me, almost as much as I want and need air to breathe, but somewhere deep in my subconscious, there’s an alarm bell going off, reminding me that in spite of what my heart wants, I’m not quite there yet.

As if he can read my mind, Cole shakes his head slowly. “But I won’t. I willneverdo anythin’ until you’re ready, until you say the words. You got that?”

I nod just once and Cole leans forward, shocking me as he presses a soft kiss to my forehead, lips lingering a touch. And again, I close my eyes, feeling every one of his unspoken promises in this one innocent forehead kiss.

CHAPTER 23

COLE

It’s been a little over a week since mine and Clara’s moment on the porch. I was in Oklahoma City all weekend for an event, and not only did I come back five grand richer, but I also came back with my name on the schedule for the Ford Invitational next month in Fort Worth. My agent told me that the head coach of the Texas Outlaws has his eyes on me, and as long as I ride as good as I have been, then I’m almost guaranteed a spot on the roster, come July when the team tour season starts. My dream is so close I can just about sniff it.

Although we haven’t seen each other, Clara and I have been texting. A lot. I’m not normally a big texter—I fuckin’ hate cell phones—but with Clara, I’ve been finding myself checking my phone every few minutes, like a teenage girl waiting for her crush to call. I even switched my cell from silent for the first time ever, just so I don’t miss a notification. Pathetic? Damn right. Can you blame me? Go on and try, I dare ya.

Now, as I turn into the driveway of my house, I have butterflies—goddamn butterflies—swarming in my gut at the thought of seeing her. Stick a fuckin’ fork in me because I think I might officially be done.

“Cole!”

I’m almost plowed down the second I hop out of my truck, Billie latching onto me like a spider monkey, big blue eyes twinkling as they peer up at me.

“Well, howdy there, Miss Billie.” I scoop Billie up off the ground, hitching her onto my side with one arm while I grab the box from the bed of my truck.

“What’s that?” Billie asks curiously, craning her neck to get a better look.

“This”—I hold up the box—“is a brand-new fuel injector for my old truck.” I flash her a wink. “Wanna help me replace it?”

She shakes her head, nose scrunching up. “I just did my nails!”

I can’t stop myself from laughing when she holds up her hands and wiggles her little fingers showing off the sparkly pink polish.

“Well, hell, they do look pretty.”

She offers me a satisfied grin.

“Oh, hey!”

I turn my head, my breath catching in the back of my throat at the sight of Clara standing in the open door. My eyes rake over her slowly from head to toe, taking in the pretty little sundress she’s wearing, the way it dips low at the front showing off a hint of those perfect tits, the hem hitting her mid-thigh. I’m forced to will my dick to behave, clearing my throat and averting my gaze to the dirt as I let Billie down to her feet.

“Just came to… work on the truck,” I say, meeting her eyes again. “If that’s okay?”

Clara nods, a small knowing smile ghosting her lips.

“Yo, Tommy?” I yell out.

Seconds later, the boy is practically bounding out of the house, eyes wide and full of fervor. “Hey Cole!”

I show him the fuel injector before nodding my head in the direction of the barn. “Wanna help me get the ol’ girl started?”

“Yeah!” His face splits into an eager grin.

“C’mon, buddy.”

Tommy races up ahead of me, and I follow him, glancing over my shoulder one last time and meeting Clara’s eyes again. I allow my gaze to trail back down her body. Purposely. And when I see the flash of pink coat her cheeks, I flash her a grin and a slow wink before turning back to follow Tommy.

Tommy and I have been in the barn for an hour or so working on the truck. The first attempt was a failure, but after a couple How-To YouTube videos and a lot of muttered cussing on my behalf, I think we might finally have success.

“Okay, that should do it.” I heave a grunt, pulling myself out from underneath the truck. My bones crack as I make my way up to my feet, wiping my grease-covered hands on the back of my jeans. But just when I go to get into the cab to try the engine, I glance down to find Tommy watching on with bated breath and I take a pause.