*
Chapter Eight
Roc
“We’re going.”
Mave sipped her coffee.
“Why aren’t you getting up?” I demanded.
She should have gotten up as soon as I told her we were going. She set her coffee down and sat back in her chair.
“I’ll go without you,” I warned.
She rolled her eyes and smiled. “See how I just rolled my eyes? That’s about the only rolling you can do without me. You’re not going anywhere.”
“This is bullshit. The team will be back in town by noon, and I want to be there.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because.”
She blinked slowly. “Because?”
“Yes, because.”
“I’m going to need more of a reason than that if I’m going to haul your cookies to the shop.”
Reason? The fact I wanted to go was reason enough. “Because it’s my damn race team, and I’m going absolutely insane staying inside this house.”
She sipped her coffee again. She was entirely too calm and completely enjoying the fact she had all of the power right now. “I thought Delaney said it was Brooks team? It ten o’clock. Let me finish my coffee and then I’ll get you ready.”
I released the brakes on my chair and rolled angrily into my bedroom. I had managed to figure out my chair and was able to get around the house mostly on my own.
If Mave didn’t want to get me ready right now, then I would do it myself.
Ten minutes later, she walked into my bedroom with a smug smile on her face. “Looks like you’re doing real good with those pants.”
She sat down on the bed and crossed her legs.
I had managed to get my shorts off after five minutes of grunting and huffing. Now, I had made the wrong decision to grab a pair of jeans to put on. I had been convinced they would fit over the casts on the bottom half of my legs.
Wrong.
“Well, would you help me instead of sitting there watching me?”
She tapped her fingers on her knee. She sat there smug and looking absolutely beautiful. Mave was driving me crazy, but I had to admit that I liked having her around.
“You’re not going to be able to wear pants, Roc. At least not any of the ones you own.”
“Well, I don’t have anything else to wear.”
I was at my wits’ end being stuck in this chair and relying on Mave for everything. For fifty-one years I had done everything for myself, save for my youth, and now I was back to relying on someone for absolutely everything.
Saturday hadn’t been bad with Harlyn being there. Mave helped me to and from the bathroom and helped me get my meals. We watched the race and managed to talk without it being tense or stilted.
Sunday, I had woken up in pain and my shitty mood never really improved. The King Racing team had won its third race in a row that day, and even that had left me pissed off because I wasn’t there.
“Harlyn brought over some more clothes yesterday.”
I rolled my eyes and wondered what colorful mess she had managed to find at the store. “Don’t fucking want them,” I bit off.
I’d sit in this damn chair naked instead of wearing anything she bought me. I had nightmares about that yellow shirt she had made me wear before.
Mave walked to the closet and pulled out a large plastic bag. “I think she was much more intune with your color preference than last time.” She pulled out three pairs of pants that were black and had snaps going up the bottom half of the leg. “If we keep the legs unsnapped, you should be able to wear these no problem.”
Thank fucking God. “Bring ‘em over here. I’ll have to thank her for not shopping in the kids department this time.”
Loved the hell out of my daughter but she was fully taking advantage of the fact I was at her mercy. The exact same thing I would have done if I were her.
Mave laughed and started unsnapping the snaps. “You want to grab a shirt? I was thinking we could give you a bath, but I really doubt you are going to want to do that before heading to the garage.”
I grabbed a black shirt. “Hell no. We can do that shit tonight when we get home.”
“Tonight?” she asked. “We’re going to be at the garage for that long?”
The team was going to be unloading today, and I wanted to be there to help. I knew I wouldn’t be able to physically help, but I was damn good at telling them where to put stuff. “I don’t know how long we’ll be there. We have a bye week. We don’t need to start preparing for the next race so we just need to put everything away.”
“You’re speaking Greek to me, Roc,” she mumbled.
“Well, stick around and it won’t sound like Greek to you after a while.”
If Mave was going to be around for a bit, then she was going to have a crash course in drag racing.
She walked over to me and grabbed the pair of jeans that were hanging off of my feet. “I don’t even know why you thought you could get these things on,” she grumbled. She worked the silky black track pants over the casts then I lifted up on the chair to raise my butt so she could pull them on the rest of the way. “You are definitely taking a bath tonight, Roc. You’re starting to smell a little rank.”
I rolled my eyes and pulled the shirt over my head. “I haven’t done a damn thing. I don’t smell.”
At least, I didn’t fucking think I did. I lifted my armpit and cringed. Perhaps a couple coats deodorant wouldn’t be bad.
She patted my knee. “Right,” she drawled.
“Fine. We’ll take a damn bath tonight.”
Her cheeks heated and turned red. “I think you mean you’ll take a bath tonight.”
I eyed her knowingly. “Maybe.” I wouldn’t mind getting Mave naked and wet in the shower. She dressed rather modestly but under her clothes, she teased of a gorgeous body I would love to get my hands on. Being in this damn wheel chair might have slowed me down physically, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t noticing the woman standing in front of me.
She stood up quickly. “Well, you’re ready to go. I’m gonna run upstairs and change. Call me on the walkie talkie if you need me.”
She dashed out of the room, and I listened to her jog up the steps.
That was unexpected. I didn’t think I could get Mave on the run with a little hint at taking a bath together.
This changed everything.
I may be trapped in a wheelchair right now, but that didn’t mean I was dead.
I had found the thing that was going to motivate me to get the hell out of this chair, and it wasn’t racing.
It was Mave Clark.
*
Mave
What in the hell was that?
I pulled a clean t-shirt on and tried to figure out what the hell was happening.
Was Roc that bored that he now decided to start flirting with me? I’m sure when he said we would take a bath, he didn’t mean it that way until I got all awkward about it. After all, I would be in there when he took a bath. Though, I wasn’t sure how much of a bath it was going to be. I was worried about giving him a bath before, but now that he had made a little flirty remark to me, I was even more nervous.