Page 69 of Black Flag

“Just a few minutesago,” She wrapped her arms around Jameson for a hug. “I’m glad to see you outhere.”

“Me too,” Jamesonpulled back to kiss her cheek. “It’s been a while.”

To some girls, a kisson the cheek would bother them. Not me. I knew the bond we all held with eachother. Ami would never make a move on Jameson just as I would never cross aline with Justin or any other driver or team member. It’s just the way it waswith us.

Alabama blared throughthe loud speakers carrying through the pits with the wind.

Ami was distracted byJustin dumping ice on her after that. With the heat today, I had half a mind tosit my fat ass in the cooler full of water and Gatorade.

“Hey dude, there’sQuincySaller.” Justin pointed toward the well-knownoutlaw owner.

“He hates me.” Jamesonsaid taking a drink of his Gatorade in hand.

“How do you do that?You’ve been here all of five minutes.” Tommy mocked Jameson.

He shrugged. “It’s atalent I guess.”

Playful Jameson was outtonight, dancing around behind to the beats of an upbeat country song. Dressedin his racing suit that formed nicely to his toned physic, he swayed his hipsslightly with a wiggle and then slid across the hauler, repeating the same moveon the other side.

I threw my head back inlaughter at his country dance he just made up as did Ami.

His lips slid over my shoulder.“This reminds me of that summer.”

“Me too,”

His gaze on me remainedplayful and I couldn’t look away. He blinked, dark lashes casted a shadow onhis cheeks. My eyes focused on his sun kissed nose, the same freckles I tracedwhen we were younger present.

“Come here,” his slow,husky voice drew me to him as he motioned with his head to the hauler behindus.

The sprint car haulerwasn’t too much different from Jameson’s cup hauler but there were a fewdifferences. The biggest difference was where the cars were located when theytransported them. In a cup hauler, the cars were stored above with the teamelectronics and work area below.

In a sprint car hauler,the cars are stored in the rear near the door almost similar to those toyhaulers people use to haul around dirt bikes.Same concept.

When they unloadedthem, it left a large work area for them. Most electronics were kept up frontcreating on office up there. They usually hauled two cars to each race, extrawings, a few engines, shocks, torsion bars, springs, rear ends, tires andaxles.All ready to repair a wadded up race car.

The spare wing andnumerous other parts were hauled to the infield prior to the feature events incase they needed to make changes during the two-minute break they allowed toget back to racing. Though it’s the south where most feel life is slower,sprint car racing was fast paced, adrenaline fueled and hot tempers. It wasdirt track racing. It was where the local guy could compete with legends. Itwas where the man who worked 8-5 all week could get his next fix. It was whereclay met rubber.

“What are you doing?” Iasked when he closed the door behind him. There was no air conditioning insidethe hauler either. With the humidity, closing the door made it like a sauna.

“Getting my girlalone,” he said lowering his voice. “She has been far too sexy today struttingaround the pits. My engine has reached the rev-limiter.” His lips brushedagainst my neck as he spoke the last part, arms leaving me as he walkedbackwards toward where all the spare parts were stored. A sly smile slid acrosshis lips.

I’m not sure if it wasintentional, but at that moment, I didn’t care.

“Come on honey, I got afew minutes to kill.”

He waited for me todraw up alongside him, and instead of turning away; he continued to walkbackwards, his smirk only getting bigger.

That smile got me everytime. It was the same smile he had the night we met in Elma, the night he wonKnoxville Nationals, the night he won the Chili Bowl, and that night he won mein Charlotte.

It was my smile.

“Do you remember thatfirst night in Charlotte?”

“Yeah,” I swallowed. “why?”

He shrugged pushing meback further into the parts area. “I think about it a lot. It changedeverything between us. Something I’d been holding onto for months was decidedwith one look.”

“Onelook?”I gasped remembering the night, the way he felt against me, the race, the bar,and the way his body hovered over mine. The way it felt when he entered me forthe first time, knowing our relationship would never be the same. Oh, Iremembered all right.

---