Winter Whirlwind Read online

  “No, why?” I say with a sigh. “What drama has happened this time?”

  “Not a work emergency,” he says. I can hear clicking in the background. “I just wrapped up a client and came inside to check some emails and damn, my wife is hot.”

  “Huh?” I ask. Jett starts to whine and Deja distracts him by making a goofy face. “Wait, did Mark email you?”

  “Yup,” Jace says with a little laugh. “These pictures are smoking.”

  I groan. “I don’t want to see them. I’m too scared.”

  “No reason to be scared, babe. Let me put it this way—I am really excited for our bedroom meeting tonight.”

  I blush at the sultry tone of his voice and turn to the side in our restaurant booth, hoping the girls can’t see me. “Is that so?”

  “Mmhmm,” he says. “Although I’m not sure I want the entire Texas motocross scene seeing how freaking hot my wife is. The thought alone kind of makes me want to punch something.”

  I snort. “Whatever. I won’t be anything compared to the other girls they put in that magazine.”

  “No you won’t,” he says. “You’re way hotter.”

  I roll my eyes and try to play it off but a part of me feels bad. Jace is being a really good sport about this whole thing but I can tell there’s a hint of jealousy in his voice. How would I feel if he took sexy shirtless photos to put in a magazine? The thought alone makes a knot form in my stomach.

  Suddenly this entire whirlwind of a day comes crashing down on me. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

  Chapter 7

  Gasping for breath, I roll off of Jace and bury my head in a pillow. “That was epic,” I say, panting.

  “Um, hell yeah it was,” Jace says, sliding a hand over my bare skin. Chills tingle at his touch and he rolls over, cuddling me in our bed. “You’ve been like a crazy sex princess ever since that magazine guy talked to you. Not that I’m complaining. It’s amazing.”

  “Crazy sex princess?” I say, turning so my face is no longer smashed into the pillow. “That sounds like a band name. And yeah, the photoshoot might have done something for my confidence.”

  It’s been a week since the photoshoot and the magazine article should be coming out soon. I’ve felt like a total badass every day since then and I can’t wait to see the article. I’ll probably frame it and hang it on the wall . . . in every single room. Ha!

  Jace nuzzles his scruffy face into my neck and we cuddle up, with me as the little spoon. He slides his hand down my arm and links his fingers in between mine. We’re both naked and a little sweaty, but I don’t mind it. We stay like this for a while, cuddled in each other’s arms, enjoying just being together. It’s one of those rare moments lately where we actually have time to spend with each other.

  I roll over and look at the clock. “It’s only ten-thirty,” I say, realizing that our epic love making session didn’t take more than forty-five minutes after we put Jett to sleep in his room. “We still have time to watch TV or something.”

  Jace runs his tongue along my neck. “Or we could forget the television and do it again.”

  His voice is raspy and like honey all at the same time. I smile and squirm under the kisses he places in the most ticklish spots on my collarbone. “I could do that,” I say, turning onto my back. He props his head up on his elbow and traces circles on my stomach with his other hand.

  “I love you, Bay,” he says as his eyes meet mine. The windows are dark and the only light comes from the soft glow of a lamp in the corner of the room. It makes him look sexy and dangerous as he hovers over me, his hand reaching up to cup my cheek.

  “I love you,” I say, kissing him.

  He pulls my bottom lip in between his teeth and then slips his tongue into my mouth. I grab for him and pull him on top of me, sliding my hands around his muscled back. We kiss for a long time, our lips caressing each other until I can’t stand it any longer. I whimper and Jace chuckles to himself.

  “Sorry, I like teasing you.”

  “You’re so mean,” I say, frowning.

  He kisses the frown right off of my lips.

  “I have an idea,” I whisper, as he grinds against me.

  “And what is that?” he says, his voice hitching as I dig my nails into his back.

  “We should do a photoshoot together next time. Like a husband and wife thing.”

  He glances at me and then lowers his head, kissing my neck while his hand slides across my breast. “That’d be fun,” he whispers, his breath tickling my skin. “Of course no one would be looking at me if they printed photos of the both of us.”

  “Yeah right,” I say, gasping as he presses into me. “A ton of girls would like to get a good look at these abs.” I run my fingers down his chest and he draws in a sharp breath.

  “That’s enough talking,” he says, his voice nearly a growl. “I’m going crazy just lying here. I need you.”

  I grin and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me. My legs part and wrap around him and he loves me the way he is so very good at.

  Later, when Jace has fallen asleep next to me, I wake up needing to pee. Carefully, I slip out of his arms so as not to wake him and make my way to the bathroom. While I’m here, I brush my teeth and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. I’m still totally naked, and screw it, I look hot. I really do. I’ve never been so proud of myself in my life. Yet, every time I think something like this, I get overwhelmingly guilty. I feel like some kind of stuck up jerk who is full of herself.

  I mean, that’s not me. I’ve always been so self-conscious, so scared of how I look. I’ve spent three years thinking I’m not good enough for Jace, and three years wishing I was. Now, I sort of feel like the woman he deserves to have sleeping next to him in bed every night. I think back to that stupid reporter calling me a trophy wife. To me, that’s an insult meant for a woman who has only one talent—looking good. But, there’s nothing wrong with looking good and being a great person as well. That’s what my goal is. To be hot in addition to being a great mom and wife.

  Then I get an idea, and although it’s kind of stupid, I decide to go for it. I sneak back out into our room and grab my phone from my nightstand. Jace is sleeping soundly, his bare chest sexy in our bed. I smile, admiring him for a minute and then I sneak back into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind me.

  I use some of the sexy poses they taught me in the photo shoot and snap a few pictures with my phone. It’s exhilarating, doing something so naughty, and I find myself flashing back to the last time I’d taken a provocative photo.

  I was still living at home and I hadn’t met Jace yet. Mom caught me and it was horrifically embarrassing. Of course, that single event led to me being sent away to my grandparents’ house and that’s where I met Jace. In a way, that stupid photo I took so long ago is the exact reason I am where I am today. It’s the reason I’m so happily married, with an awesome kid and a beautiful house. Sometimes really bad screw-ups turn into really good things. So I smile and take another photo.

  My plan is to save them for a special occasion and send them to Jace randomly. Maybe while he’s working late, or home alone, or when we’ll be apart from each other for a while. Maybe even when he’s cooking dinner and I’m in the other room working on something, I could send him one of these photos to get his attention. Now that I’m an adult and there’s no chance I’ll get in trouble by my mom, this is actually fun.

  I scroll through the photos, five in all, and try to imagine what Jace will do when he sees them. Then, just for fun, I decide to send one of the photos to Jace’s email account at work. He won’t see it until he gets to his office tomorrow morning and I’ll still be home with Jett. It’ll be the perfect surprise.

  I open a new email, attach the sexiest photo and type the subject: Very urgent matter – open ASAP.

  And then I slip back into bed and snuggle up against Jace’s back, grinning like crazy.

  Being a wife is fun.

  Chapt
er 8

  On Monday morning, I wake up with an extra pep in my step. Mark had told us the new magazine issue would be out today and I am practically bouncing off the walls as I get dressed and then get Jett dressed and make us breakfast. Actually, I don’t make breakfast because I’m too excited. I grab a rice crispy treat and give Jett a bag of Cheerios with his chocolate milk. I figure I can be a bad mom just for today and we’ll go back to eating healthy, better breakfasts tomorrow.

  Jace and Park are already at the Track when I get there since they arrive ridiculously early to get the track watered and ready to ride. They’re both sitting on stools behind the front counter when I walk in with Jett on my hip. Park’s wearing a t-shirt and riding pants with flip flops. They never wear their riding books inside because they track dirt and mud all over the place.

  Jace is still in cargo shorts and a shirt with a black zip-up hoodie. I don’t know how he wears shorts when it’s like fifty degrees outside, but that’s just Jace, I guess. They’re drinking coffee and chatting when I walk in. The front desk computer isn’t even turned on.

  “Is it here?” I ask, wide eyed and too excited for my own good.

  “Is what here?” Park asks, lifting a brow.

  “Yeah, what are you talking about?” Jace says.

  I put my hand on my hip. Jace cracks first, his confused expression turning into a smile.

  “Yeah I can’t keep pretending,” he says to Park, who rolls his eyes. “We were going to act like we didn’t know what you were talking about and make you think the magazine never happened.”

  “Ya’ll are dumb,” I say, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. Of course they would play a prank on me since I’ve been so ridiculously excited for this stupid magazine. “Well is it here or not?”

  I set Jett down on the floor and he runs to his daddy, like he always does. Jace scoops him up and sits him on the counter. I walk over there and give him a quick kiss. Park says, “Eww,” under his breath and I punch him in the shoulder.

  “Damn, woman, you’re getting strong,” he days, taking another sip of coffee. “Your punches are actually starting to hurt now.”

  “Yeah, she’s a badass,” Jace says, wrapping an arm around me. “Magazine isn’t here yet, babe.” He pulls me toward him, placing a kiss on top of my hair. “But I don’t have a client until ten this morning so I’ll hang out here and wait for it with you.”

  “Awesome,” I say, letting my head rest against his shoulder.

  A few minutes later, I remember the photo I emailed him last night. A trill of excitement hits me, and I look over at Jace, wondering if he’ll mention it while Park is here. But eventually Park leaves for his first client and Jace still hasn’t said anything. But the computer is off, so maybe he hasn’t checked his office computer, either. I decide to keep my lips closed and wait until he finds it and tells me about it himself.

  Jace is talking about his summer camp idea when the front door swings open and we both look over, finding Mark walking inside, his arms full of magazines. My pulse races. I was so freaking excited earlier today and now here I am, frozen in place behind the front counter. I’m almost too scared to read it now.

  “Good morning, guys,” Mark says, hefting the stack of magazines up and onto the counter. There’s probably fifty magazines and they’re all shrink-wrapped into a stack. “Fresh off the press,” he says, tapping the top of the stack. “It’s a good article,” he tells me, flashing me a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if ya’ll start getting a ton of new visitors because of it.”

  “Cool cool,” Jace says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pocketknife, then slices open the plastic covering. “Ladies first,” he says, handing me the magazine on top.

  I gasp. Right there on the cover, is me, standing next to Jace’s dirt bike. I’m flashing a look at the camera that’s so confident and knowing that I almost don’t even recognize myself.

  Wives of Motocross it says next to my head. Bayleigh Adams discusses raising a family, running a business and being married to motocross superstar Jace Adams.

  “You might be more famous than me,” Jace says with a grin. He pulls off the shrink wrap and tosses it in the trash. “These babies are going up for everyone to see.”

  “I have to get going,” Mark says, reaching out and shaking our hands. “Thanks so much for being in the article, Bayleigh.”

  “Thanks for having me,” I say, still holding the magazine in my hands. I’m so excited I can’t even open the thing yet. I just stare at myself on the cover. I’m on the cover of a magazine. I would have never imagined this would happen in a million years.

  Eventually I do read the article—well, I try to at least. I end up skimming over it, too excited and freaking out to bother reading each individual sentence. Luckily, Mark was right. The writer only put good things in there, and I’m grateful for it. Becca comes over when her college class is finished and she already has a copy of the magazine in her hand. “Sign it for me?” she says, throwing me a wink.

  “Did you read it all?” I ask while I play Legos with Jett. “I’ve been too scared to actually read it all.”

  “Yep,” she says. “It’s all good. No worries.”

  The front door opens and Jett lets out a squeal and runs toward it. Deja is here for her shift that starts at noon. “Hey little man,” she says, waving at Becca and me while she bends down to get on Jett’s level. “Are you ready to play some fun games?”

  He nods and shows her his Lego creation.

  “Nice magazine article, Mrs. Adams,” she says, standing back up with Jett in her arms. “All my friends think its cool as h—” she says, stopping to look at Jett. “Heck,” she finishes with a smile. “I mean, you made the cover and everything!”

  “I know, I’m excited,” I say. “But how did you see it already?”

  “Facebook,” she says, walking toward the counter to pick up one of the copies. “You’re a big deal online.”

  “What, are you serious?” I ask, almost knocking over Becca in my haste to get to the computer. “It’s only been out a few hours.”

  Deja nods. “It was the first thing I saw on Facebook today. But um, you might want to get Becca to read the comments to you. Don’t look at them yourself.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  Becca shoves me out of the way and goes to the internet, pulling up the Track’s Facebook page.

  Deja bites on her bottom lip. “Well, most of the comments are really nice but you know how people are. Some people are being jerks, but it’s rare.”

  I groan.

  “Don’t worry about it, Bay,” Becca says, her eyes glued to the computer screen. “Here it is. There’s two hundred comments already, damn.”

  I look over, telling myself not to focus on the comments. This morning at seven a.m. Mark posted a picture of the magazine cover to our page. “These aren’t so bad,” she says, scrolling through comments. I see a bunch of emojis but I don’t read any of it. Not until she stops on one particular comment that’s typed in all caps.

  “What a bitch,” she murmurs before she keeps scrolling.

  I grab her arm. “No, I want to see it. What was it?”

  “Bay, you don’t want to see it. I’ll just delete it.”

  “Not until I see what it says,” I say, taking the mouse from her. The comment is easy to find and it makes my blood boil.

  YEH WHO CARES THIS WOMAN IS A TOTAL SLUT

  The comment doesn’t bother me so much as the person who posted it. My teeth grind together. “Natalie,” I say, deleting the comment myself. Then I block her from our page. But the act of banning her from commenting doesn’t really do anything to help with how angry I am. That bitch tried to ruin my marriage and my life and now she has the nerve to call me a slut? Please.

  “Do you want me to kick her ass?” Becca says. “Because I’d be happy to. Just say the word, babe.”

  I shake my head. “If anyone is kicking her ass it’ll be me. But I don’t
think we need to. She’s so pathetic.” I hold my head up and make a promise to myself that I won’t read any more of the comments.

  “You’re handling this really well,” Becca says.

  I shrug. “What can I say? I’m on the cover of a magazine and that bitch isn’t.”

  *

  The day pretty much flies by after the magazine is out. I work at the front desk with Becca while Deja keeps Jett in the kid’s room. All of our clients see the magazine when they walk in and they all want to talk about it. Many of the teenage riders think it’s awesome and ask to take a photo with me to post online. I’m happy to oblige. By the time the work day is over, I’m dying to unwind with a workout in our gym.

  Since we opened the gym to up regular memberships, there’s already a few guys in here working out when I arrive. I ignore them and head to my favorite weight machine which is a tall cable machine. I slip the metal bar into the fifty-pound weight and turn around to begin my workout.

  Only, I can’t, because there’s a guy standing in front of me. He’s lean and muscular, with long dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail. He’s wearing a black tight-fitting tank top and sweatpants. I don’t recognize him as one of the motocross guys who work out here. He must be someone who signed up for the membership only.

  “Hi, can I help you?” I ask, trying to decipher the cryptic look on his face.

  “Yeah, sweetheart I think you can,” he says, taking a step closer. I back up. My back is very close to the machine, which has two long metal arms on either side. Between it and the guy, I’m kind of boxed in with no way out.

  I straighten and try to look fearless. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I want more of what I saw online,” he says, grinning. His gaze drops down to my chest, where it lingers on my cleavage.

  I suppress a shudder. “You mean the magazine article?” Sure, the photos were mildly sexy but they were all about me being a wife. How can he think he can hit on me when he knows I’m married?