[chapter eleven]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please. ;-)
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~Shea's POV~
Not only am I amazed that Jimmie stuck around last night after I totally wigged on him, but I'm also amazed that the man can cook the house down.
And as I put Mama to bed last night with Jimmie's help, she looked up at me with a flicker of recognition. "Shea … " She said, touching my cheek with her hand. "You look so much like me when I was your age."
I know my mother is still in there somewhere, but hearing her say that makes all the rough days, the sleepless nights a little easier to bear.
As does spending time with my favorite Winston Cup driver.
Who is currently giving me a back massage as we sit together on a deserted playground near my house, the swings gently swaying in the breeze and the twisty slide howling when the wind hits it just right.
I can almost forget everything that is going on in my life. Almost.
"You are so beautiful." Jimmie whispers huskily in my ear, causing a shiver to race down my spine - not only from his words, but from the close proximity of his voice to my ear.
"You are such a good liar." I shoot back after I regain my senses.
"You are not a gracious compliment taker."
"You are not a good seducer."
"I'm doing an okay job, I think."
"Playground, Jimmie?"
"It bring out the kid in me."
"How sexy."
"Shut up. I'm concentrating."
I bite back a comment and laugh to myself as he continues his ministrations on my back for a few more seconds.
"Wait." He says suddenly, stopping. "Do you want to be seduced?" He sounds like he genuinely wants to know.
Hrm. Let me think.
Granted, I don't fall into bed with any guy who happens along. I don't fall in love easily. I don't even trust easily.
But this man …
He makes me want to defy all of my own instincts and just … just go with it. With him.
With us.
"How romantic, Jimmie."
"I'm serious." He says, sounding dangerously so. He slides around until he's face to face with me. "You know how I feel about you … I told you a million times last night after your mother fell asleep. But you never once told me how you feel about me. For all I know, you're just keeping me around on the promise of cookies."
"Pretty much." I say lightly, avoiding his question.
Don't put me on the spot. Don't make me admit that I've had a crush on you since the first time you ordered a large mocha.
Long before you had ever met Jeff Gordon.
Long before you were famous.
Long before you even had a place of your own.
I've always wanted to be with you. Always.
"Jimmie?"
"Yes, Shea?"
"Can we get out of here?"