It was a business deal.
A deal that had an expiration date.
“After I win,” Doug continued, breaking into her thoughts, “we could take a hike up Rickety Rock Mountain.”
Sweet Buddha’s belly!
Doug dropped the W-word.
Win.
The rush of frenzied energy coming off Raz amplified tenfold. He’d gone from run-of-the-mill surly to super-charged beefcake mode in the blink of an eye. This wouldn’t be pretty. It was one thing for Doug to ask her out. It was a whole different ball of cosmic wax to throw a competition wrench into the mix.
“You seem pretty sure about winning,” Raz shot back, not missing a beat, as Beefcake quickened his pace.
“It’s in my blood. My family’s been racing burros here in Rickety Rock since the race started. And Ace is a strong partner. We shouldn’t have trouble clenching the title,” the man answered, patting the burro as they got closer to the creek.
“Are you up for some friendly competition now?” Raz tossed out. She could tell that he was going for nonchalance, but she heard the edge in his voice.
“Ace and I are up for it,” Doug answered.
“We race to town. One mile. Go as hard as you can,” Raz answered, setting the terms.
They had to be running a swift six-minute mile by this point. How much harder could they go?
“Do you want to put a wager on this?” Doug asked, lengthening his stride as she bristled. “Perhaps a kiss from the lovely Libby as the prize?”
She was no prize. Plum, sensing her irritation, released a huff of a cry as Libby parted her lips, ready to tell Zen Dougie where he could kiss her when Raz caught her eye. They shared a look—one look that spoke volumes.
I’ve got you, plum.
She could hear it as if she could read his mind.
“No bets, Doug. We do it for the glory. We’ll go on your count, Libby,” he answered, then gave her a glimpse of that boyish grin.
If they weren’t rocketing down a mountain with donkeys, she would have kissed him.
“Thank you,” she mouthed.
“I’m not always a beast,” he answered.
Her pounding heart skipped a beat.
He wasn’t.
“Are we going?” Dougie bit out, dialing up his pace.
Raz glanced past her, tucking away his sweet smile and sizing up his competition. “Absolutely.”
The crackle and pop of air between the men couldn’t be denied. She should tell the guys to knock it off. This was a training session. But psychic energy, like kinetic energy, was a curious thing. Often, it took less effort to let it work itself out rather than try to restrain it. And there was no holding back Raz and Doug now. Even their burros, breathing hard and gazes locked on the trail, seemed to sense the intensity of the moment.
Libby pulled her attention from the guys and scanned the trail for Sebastian. He’d stopped not far from the creek bed. They’d taught him to never cross without them.
“Move to the side of the trail and wait for me, Sebastian. Your dad and Doug are going to pick up the pace,” she called.
“Waiting on you, plum. We go on your call,” Raz said, back to flashing her that secret smile—that expression that said, you’re mine.
And again, the question hovered in her mind. Could she be his?
“Plum?” he rasped as time seemed to slow down.
Was the universe about to give her the answer?
She glanced from side to side.
The energy coming off the guys could melt iron.
Here goes everything.
“Ready,” she called.
The men edged ahead of her.
“Set.”
Raz peered over his shoulder and tossed her a cocky wink. With determination written on his face, she couldn’t deny that the trait that had once driven her to bang gongs and throw vibrators was now quite the turn-on.
She tossed the man a little wink of her own, then let loose. “Go.”
In that split second, the anticipation in the air shifted. The raw desire to win erupted, and the men were off.
Twenty-One
Libby
Stone chips and bits of dirt rose from the trail as the men took off, rocketing toward the creek.
Hoofs and feet pounding, the race was on.
Ace and Beefcake released a chorus of hee-haw battle cries as Raz, Doug, and the hyped-up burros charged past Sebastian. The men hit the shallow part of the creek with a force that sent sprays of droplets above their heads and splashes of water pelting their legs.
“Go, Dad! Go, Beefcake!” Sebastian cried. “And Dougie, the wanker, you can—”
“Sebastian,” she called, cutting him off as she and Plum jogged up to the child.
“Sorry, Mibby, that’s the pun in me getting riled up.”
“The pun in you?” she repeated, biting back a grin and guiding Plum toward the shallow water as Sebastian got onto his bike and rode alongside her.
“The punch part of pun-chi yoga. That Doug makes me want to kick things and punch my dad’s heavy bag.”
Like father, like son.
“Are Dougie and Dad racing?”
She stared down the trail and the dust settling behind the burros. “Something like that.”
“Do you think Dad will win?”
Her silly heart wanted to say yes—yes to not only him winning, but yes to a yearning she had to ignore.
And she knew what Raz was doing.
This wasn’t any old race.
The man was testing the waters, or in this case, the burro racecourse, to get some insight into his opponent.
Did he want to win because it was his nature, or was it more? Was it the prospect of her and Doug together, or simply her and anyone else that got him hot and bothered?
“Oh, no!” Sebastian exclaimed before she could reply. His mini beast scowl had changed to a look of surprise.
“What is it?” she asked. Now on the other side of the creek, she led Plum onto the trail, watching the boy closely.
“Dad and Beefcake will be wet. They ran across the creek like they were being chased by a bear, and water went everywhere.”
Thanks to the slight increase in elevation, crossing the creek at this point was akin to trudging through a puddle. But anyone who’s seen an excited child dash into a shallow body of water knew exactly what could happen. She looked ahead as the half-soaked men, side by side, disappeared into the heavy foliage.
“Yep, they’re pretty wet. But they’ll dry out,” she commented.
“But we weren’t supposed to get wet because we’re meeting everyone in town to watch my dad pummel some bloke in the ring.”
Spar with the Beast.
She’d almost forgotten they were expected in the town square—and their friends would be there to greet them.
“Luckily, it’s so dry in Colorado, he’ll probably dry out pretty quick.”
She checked her watch.
They’d purposefully timed their donkey run so they could arrive in town a little before the boxing event. They wanted some time to say hello to everyone before Raz was expected on stage, or in this case, in the mock ring Briggs had constructed. Despite being twenty minutes away from where Penny and Rowen and Charlotte and Mitch were spending the summer with Phoebe and Oscar, the hectic training schedule she and Raz had to keep had kept her from spending time with her girls. A quick text, here and there, was all she could manage over the last few weeks.