Page 23 of Dirt Driven

“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 calledkid. 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 grandma somewhere.”

Hudson stood up on the counter and wrapped his arms around my neck and smooshed his face to mine. “My daddy.”

I held onto him with one hand and passed the T-shirt back to the woman after signing it. “This one got himself kicked out of daycare.”

I hadn’t noticed until it happened, but Hudson had gotten the cap off one of the markers in his hand and scribbled on the shirt before the woman took it. “I’m sorry. We can get you a new one.” I motioned for Kinsley who had been behind us restocking the trailer. “You got another one of these?”

The lady reached for the shirt. “No, that’s quite all right. I love that he signed it next to his daddy.” She beamed.

Hudson grinned and pointed to the car on the back of the shirt, drooling all over it. “Daddy!” He smacked his hand down on it. Unfortunately, the white shirt now had chocolate chips on it too. And me.

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want a new one?”

“I’m positive. Thank you.”

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