Apparently, he wasn’t just a bastard, he was a sick bastard.
“I’m not afraid!”
He knew those words she shouted were for her. The joy in them was unmistakable, so he didn’t slow or hold back, but let her experience the full speed of the run.
Given the decibel level of her voice, she liked it, and he found himself grinning.
Grinning.
When was the last time he’d pushed himself past his own fears? Hell, up until a year ago, he hadn’t had any fears at all, and since the accident…Well, he sure as hell hadn’t pushed himself in any way at all. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt exhilarated, excited, the last time he’d had fun. These days, riding was nothing but a mode of transportation when the roads weren’t plowed, when he had to get from one excursion site to another quickly, or when any one of the others needed assistance.
But with Katie’s breathless laughter spurring him on in his ear, things were different. He was smiling. Laughing. And his body…Well, his body was sure as hell telling him loud and clear that there was going to be something about this woman.
Something far more than expected.
Instead of going there, he took them over the land, making sharp turns so that she squeezed him tighter, hitting the gas so that she squeezed her legs around his, basically doing everything in his power to give her the ride of her life.
But the joke was on him, because she ended up giving him the ride of his life, and he drove for far longer than he’d intended, incredibly aware of her body plastered to his back, of the sweet heat of her arms wrapped so securely around him. When he finally stopped at the top of Widow’s Peak, he shifted to give her a look of the valley far below.
The mountains were covered in snow, looking deceptively soft. But anyone who’d ever lived on these rugged peaks knew the truth-it was the opposite. No softness anywhere; only harsh, tough landscape.
It took a tough person to live here. He should know. He’d grown up only miles from here, under the mean, drunk gaze of a father who hadn’t given a shit. Cam didn’t blame the land.
Actually, he loved the land.
Because it’d been here he’d had the world laid at his feet by his one lone talent, along with all the fame and celebrity that went with it. Yeah, he loved the land. The land had saved his sorry ass.
Katie stared out at the view and sighed. “It’s gorgeous. Who owns all that?”
“Once upon a time, a Wilder. The Wild Wilder, they called him. My great, great, great grandfather.” He shrugged. “Legend has it that he shot more men than Jesse James. And as the apple never falls far from the tree, most of the Wilder men who came along after that weren’t much better, ending up in jail or six feet under.”
“Quite the legacy.”
“Cam, T.J., and I grew up as wild as our name implies, happily doing our part of living up to it.”
“And yet you’re not in jail or six feet under.”
“Not for lack of trying, believe me.”
She’d craned her neck so that she could peek over his shoulder at him. “You’re referring to your accident.”
“For one, yeah.”
“It changed your life.” It was a statement, but also, he knew, a question, and she watched him very carefully, telling him how important his answer was to her.
He had a glib answer on his tongue, but he couldn’t give it to her. Not with that look on her face. “It changed everything.”
“As in it gave you the perspective to make some life changes?”
“As in it gave me the perspective that I’m screwed.”
She pulled back slightly, as if so greatly let down by him she couldn’t touch him. And though he rarely gave a shit what people thought, he found himself giving a shit now. “It’s different for us, Katie. I lost what I was living for and you found it.”
“You lived for racing?”
Yeah. Hell yeah. But hearing it from her lips didn’t sound so good. “Well, not anymore.”
“What do you live for now?”
He let out a breath, not wanting to make this worse, to make her even more disheartened by him, but he had nothing. “It hasn’t been that long.”
She nodded, letting him have the fantasy that he was doing fine. But he wasn’t, and for the very first time, he wondered what it would take to change that.
A new dream. That’s what it would take. Too bad he was fresh out. He hit the gas again, and with a gasp, she gripped him tight.
Which worked for him. Because at these speeds, there was no brooding, no pouting, no rehashing bad shit. Plus, he loved listening to her gasp and laugh as he raced them over the land. It made him smile in spite of himself, and he was still doing so when he finally pulled up in front of the lodge. When he turned off the engine, Katie stayed still a long moment, hugging him.
He figured she’d be distant now, but apparently she didn’t work that way.
“We didn’t flip,” she said against his ear.
His eyes drifted shut. “I would never have flipped us.”
“I know. But fears aren’t always logical. God, Cam, that was good. I don’t feel sick at all.” She pushed her face over his shoulder. “Am I green?”
He looked into her eyes. “No.”
She smiled, pulled off the helmet, and straightened her glasses. “I didn’t have even an inkling of a panic attack.”
“You do have helmet hair, though.”