Doll Face (Baby Doll #3) Read online

  “What, more than blonde hookers and bars?” I give him a wicked smile.

  “Yeah, the softer side of me.” Winking, he gets out of the truck and takes two yoga mats out of the back before opening my door for me.

  “Have you ever done yoga before?”

  “You are not serious. I don’t believe that you do yoga.” I take his hand and slide out of the truck.

  “My feelings are hurt, Red. There’s a deeper side to me.”

  We walk into the studio hand in hand. I like the way his hand covers mine completely, and the feel of his rough skin against the softness of mine. Three days, I’m giving him three days only, I remind myself.

  Gong bells ring as we enter the building. The small space has a few beat-up office chairs as the waiting area. Bamboo plants and Buddha statues sit on the window sills, and there is a heavy smell of patchouli that hovers above us.

  “You really do yoga on a regular basis?” I ask as we sign our names to the guest book.

  He smiles down at me. “Three days a week.”

  “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that does yoga.” I pinch my lips together, trying to size him up. Is he putting on a show or is he being honest? I can’t tell; with the lines blurred, it’s hard to tell what is real and what is fake.

  “Really? What type of guy do I look like?” he asks.

  I can tell that this is amusing him, and my cheeks start to burn. I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that. “I don’t know.” I avert my gaze. Hopefully, he can’t tell that he is frustrating me. I thought I had him pinned, but he is throwing me a curve ball. Adam reaches over, taking my hand again and electricity shoots through me. No matter how much I want to deny it every time we touch its pure bliss. My body instinctively turns toward him. It’s like there are magnets in my chest, aching to arch toward him. My head tilts and I want to feel his mouth on mine, to feel the bliss that only Adam can produce. Adam wants it, too; his eyes glisten as his other hand goes to my back, guiding me to him. He licks his bottom lip, and my eyes flutter shut.

  “Nash.” A man who must be the yoga instructor steps out from behind rainbow beaded curtains. I quickly step away from Adam, and he takes a deep breath before opening his eyes.

  “Hugo,” Adam sighs and gives him a hug. Hugo has long, sun-bleached hair that is pulled back in a bun, and he only has on a pair of workout shorts.

  “Hugo, this is Katie.” Adam gestures to me.

  “Namaste, Katie.” He bows then pulls me into an unexpected hug.

  “Oh. Um, hi.” Startled, I pat him on the back.

  “So it looks like you are my only couple today,” Hugo states after letting me go.

  “Couple?” I cut a glare at Adam from the corner of my eye.

  “Yes, this is couples yoga.” Hugo smiles. “Don’t worry, I know you are not a couple, Adam told me all about your deal.”

  “Oh did he?” I narrow my eyes even more. Grinning, Adam shrugs his shoulders innocently.

  “It’s important to know that I take no sides. I’m only here to guide you on your journey to enlightenment. To allow yourselves to open up to the possibilities, the Universe has to offer.

  “Oh, that is good to know.” I roll my eyes.

  Hugo guides us through a series of beginner movements and breathing techniques. I have done yoga before; it was part of my therapy to help me with my anxiety. Normally I can transport myself somewhere else until it’s just me and my breathing but now is different. I can’t seem to concentrate on anything but Adam. Each time I breathe, I breathe him in. The smell of him is enough to send me into a panic attack; the sweet, spicy smell tattoos my own skin. His warm breath pushes up against me, and I part my mouth slightly it’s like he is kissing me without our mouths touching. His knees are pressed against mine. Damn, even his knees feel good. Warmth spreads up my thighs from where he is touching.

  “And breathe in through you nose and out of your mouth slowly,” Hugo instructs, walking around the small room.

  “Now lean back, and just be. Become the room, become each other, and feel your Universes aligning together as one. Let your life sustaining breath become each other’s.”

  I open my eyes slightly, watching him as he leans back, the stubble from needing to shave runs up his neck to his chin, his chest rising slow and steady with each breath. He is so sure of himself, so calm and centered while I feel like I’m spinning out of control. “And raise you right arm to the sky, thanking the Universe for the peace that you are feeling, feel your energies transforming to those around you.” There is something transforming between us, but I don’t think it has anything to do with the universe.

  “Coffee?” Adam asks. I’m still frustrated as hell. How can something like yoga wind me up so much? Damn him and his blue eyes and a cocky smile.

  “But I look a—”

  He cuts me off. “You look beautiful.”

  I know he is lying I look like a hot mess. My ponytail has come loose, stray pieces are hanging in my face, and the only makeup I have on is a little bit of mascara. We stop at the only place to get a cup of coffee in this town.

  “Would it kill this town to put in a Starbucks?” I complain, trying to take my mind off of Adam and his little finger trick he did.

  “Maybe not, but it would probably put The Dragonfly out of business.”

  “Perhaps,” I agree, looking him over. Maybe there is more to Adam than I thought. Once we order our drinks, we find a quite couch in the back of the café. “I would have never taken you for someone who cared, that you would care about a big corporation buying out the small town business.” I sip the foam of my Americano—the only thing with a decent amount of caffeine they offer. Adam is drinking some sugary drink that true coffee consumers would die before drinking.

  “The owner of The Dragonfly is Paula’s niece.”

  “Really?” I give the place a quick glance and spot a heavyset girl in pink with the same crayon-dyed hair wiping down a table.

  “Her?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sensing we are looking at her, she glances up and blushes, giving Adam a small wave.

  He leans in closer to me, making my head spin. “She sort of had a crush on me in high school; I don’t think she has ever gotten over it.”

  “Is that so?” I place my cup down and lean closer, wanting to breathe him in. “I bet she wasn’t the only one who had a crush on you.”

  “There were a few. What about you? I bet you had a line of guys just dying to go out with you.”

  I stiffen and lean back. My dating life wasn’t something to brag about. There was no one that could live up to my mother’s standards. Never enough money, or the right breeding. It wasn’t worth dating or looking to fall in love. I’m surprised my mother didn’t set up an arranged marriage for me.

  “No, I didn’t have time for boys in high school,” I reply, looking out the window because I don’t want to see the shocked expression on his face.

  “Katie,” Adam says my name as he reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. “When you are ready to talk, I’m here to listen.”

  “Thanks. Are you ready to go?” Pulling my hand away, I give him a fake smile. I will never be ready to talk—this is just pretend, and I need to remember that. Adam is doing everything right, and he keeps on surprising me, first with the yoga, then with his comment about the local coffee shop. I wish I wasn't so cold and distant, but asking about high school only reminded me of what type of girl I’m suspected to be. I have to be the perfect daughter. I couldn’t date boys that were out of my class. How do I tell him the only boy I dated was because he fit my parents’ mold; that I used to hook up with Tyler behind the bleachers just to feel some sort of normalcy? The expectation and those criteria I’m still hanging onto, and it’s the reason I have been fighting my feelings for Adam. I had to be the perfect one while my family got to hide their dirty secrets. But no matter how perfect I was, I was never perfect enough.

  “Are you okay?” Adam asks when we ge
t into his truck. His eyes dance with concern, etched deep in his brows.

  “Fine,” I say coldly before pulling down the visor and reapplying a fresh coat of lip gloss and fixing my ponytail. Snapping it shut, I turn to look out the window and ignore his worry. Adam doesn’t ask again; he leaves me to my silent brooding. If this doesn’t prove to him that I’m not his type, that I’m all wrong for him, then maybe he is the one with the issues.

  We turn down a dirt road on the edge of town and drive about two miles out and pull up to what looks to be some sort of race track. Tattooed guys and girls barely dressed walk by the truck. “Take me home,” I demand.

  He smiles at me with that crooked smile, and my heart rate picks up. Damn, he’s going to give me a heart attack.

  “You are mine for four more hours still, remember?” He scoops up my hand and kisses it before sliding out of the truck and jogging around to my side. This is going to be torture, trying to deny what I’m feeling. Why can’t things just be simple? I lean my head back and try to come up with a game plan on how the hell I’m going to make it for another four hours. Adam opens my door and holds out his hand for me; hesitantly I take it and let him help me out. Another thing I hate about him—the way my heart flutters with just a touch or look … or the thought of a look or touch.

  “Where are we, Adam?”

  He presses his hand to my lower back. “This is the other part of me you don’t know about. This is my future.” He smiles down at me.

  “Your future is a dirt parking lot?” I cock my brow at him.

  He doesn’t answer; instead, he guides me forward. We are definitely at a race track, but what kind I’m not sure of yet. There is a dirt track with different sized hills. A pair of rusty bleachers sits on either side of the track behind a chain-link fence.

  “Nash!” A boy I recognize as Dirt comes running up to us. Nash pulls him into a hug, rubbing the top of his head. The kid is cute now that I’m getting to see him in the daylight, and my alarms are not going off. He has a shaggy head of jet black hair with big crystal blue eyes. “Hey, beautiful lady.” He swats at Adam, whose lips spread into a big smile.

  “This lady,” he reaches out for Dirt, pulling him back into a headlock, “is mine, and you better remember that, little brother.” Dirt swings and they start to wrestle, but I note that neither one really tries to hurt the other. These two are not even blood-related and still they are closer than Rylee, and I will ever be. I swallow down the lump in my throat. I refuse to cry; not here, not in front of Adam.

  “When you get tired of this dick-wad, look me up, Mamacita.'” Dirt takes my hand and kisses it.

  Yep, they might not be shared blood, but there is no denying that they are brothers.

  “You talk a lot of shit, for someone so small.” Adam swings his leg, trying to kick him, but Dirt is quick and jumps out of the way. Flipping Adam off he runs in the direction of a group of people that are working on dirt bikes.

  “If they’re not your real brothers, then why does your dad take care of them? That can’t be easy.” I think back to dinner and the attitude that Playboy had.

  “James has been my friend for as long as I can remember since he was old enough to wander into the yard. They lived a few houses down. Their father was an alcoholic and having three boys to take care of was hard on their mother. So they just spent the days with us, and most nights. Then one day their dad ran off, and their mother followed.”

  “Your dad is a pretty cool guy.” I bump him with my shoulder. Giving me a big, cheesy grin he takes my hand.

  “Come on, I want you to me the rest of the guys.”

  The rest of the guys are a group of what my mother would call hoodlums. I don’t think that there is one that doesn’t have some sort of tattoo, or isn’t smoking a cigarette. Most of them have their own motorcycles, whether it be new or a piece of junk, but mostly pieces of junk from what I can see. They seem to fix them more than they ride them. The girls that are here seem nice except for Karly, who I meet at the Black Hole. She makes a scene of draping herself over Adam, who is helping Dirt tune his bike, in a sparsely there bikini top and what must be the shortest shorts I have ever seen. When Adam unwinds from her grip, he introduces me to her. She holds onto his bicep, and I know what she is doing, trying to make a claim on him. He doesn’t remove her hand and jealousy flairs in the pit of my stomach. Jealousy I don’t want. For now, Adam Nash is mine, at least for two more days. I try to cool the heat that I know is on my face.

  “Karly, have you meet Katie yet?” Adam asks, trying to hide the smirk on his face and doing a shitty job at it. I narrow my eyes at him before plastering my best fake smile on. Karly does what bitchy girls do best and narrows her eyes at me, pushing out her chest out so that her fake boobs are smashed up against Adam’s arm.

  “Can’t say I did.” Karly curls her lip back, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth. If she wasn’t such a bitch, she’d actually be pretty. But two can play her game. She never meets my mother, the queen of bitchiness.

  “Yeah, we did. That night at the bar, remember? Then again, you were pretty wasted and busy grinding up on that old guy. Remember, he had the receding hairline and the beer gut?” I smile innocently at her.

  “Bitch,” Karly breathes.

  Adam, taking that as a sign to separate us, removes her hand and grips my shoulder. “Look, there’s Ryan. I want you to meet him.”

  “It was great meeting you again, Karly. See you around,” I call over my shoulder as I wrap my arm around Adam’s waist.

  “I thought she was going to claw your eyeballs out.” Adam presses his mouth into my hair and laughs.

  “Yeah, she is a sweetheart. How long have you been sleeping together?” I lift my head, glaring at him.

  I don’t want to lie to her. I want something more with Katie, so I tell her the truth. “We used to go out until I caught her cheating on me. We stopped sleeping together a few weeks before I meet you.” I cringe and look down at her. She is staring straight ahead with a calm and collected mask on her face. I’m not sure if it bothers her, or she just doesn’t care. She nods her head and I inquire, “Come on, what about you? There had to be someone in your past.”

  “No one I care to talk about.”

  I don’t ask her to elaborate, because she doesn’t look like she wants to so I leave it alone. Besides, her past doesn’t matter to me, only her present and future.

  We walk up to where the guys are working on bikes all eyes take Katie in. Jealousy flares inside of me like a fire. I knew they would look, how they could not? I have been drooling over her since she stepped out of her apartment in tight yoga pants that hug her curves and a pink tank top that clings to her in all the right place. I almost told her to change when she came out, but I didn’t and for two reasons—one, I didn’t want to be that guy, despite being jealous I’m also excited that I get to show her off, and two, I think getting a little dirty will do her some good. She needs to relax and learn to let go. I thought that the yoga would help her with that, but I guess Rome wasn’t built in a day and removing Katie’s armor is going to take time.

  Dirt runs up to us with my helmet in his hand. “I thought you were never going to get here. Ryan said that you two were probably doing ‘it’ or running off to get hitched or some shit like that.”

  “Why don’t you keep your mouth shut, Dirt?” I reach out for him but he dodges me and sidles up to Katie. I can’t wait until this little shit gets a girlfriend, I’m going to embarrass him so hard.

  “He likes you, ya know,” he chirps. “He ain’t ever brought a girl out to the track before, not even Karly.” Dirt’s mouth keeps flapping, and I’m seriously going to kick his scrawny ass when we get home.

  “Really? Then why is she here?” She cocks her eyebrow at me. Dirt rubs at his nose, smearing grime across the bridge of it.

  “Well, you see, Karly … how do I put it? She’s easy. One of the other guys brought her out here, but I think she’s pissed that Nash wouldn’t. Th
en he shows up with you.”

  “Okay, you’ve said just about enough.” I manage to catch Dirt around the neck and squeeze him, a warning to shut his damn mouth.

  Realizing his mistake and knowing he is going to get his ass kicked, he manages to throw one more jab in. “Yeah, and he’s been whacking off to you in the shower. ‘Ohhh, Katie, your hands are so smooth’.” He makes an obscene gesture and I swing at him, not caring if Katie is around to see my temper, but the little fucker is halfway across the track before I can get him.

  “The shower, huh?” she laughs. “Didn’t Playboy accuse you of using up all the Vaseline?” My temper cools at the sound of her laugh. I’m just glad she isn’t pissed any more.

  “They’re full of shit.” I smile back at her, but he isn’t that full of it.

  She cocks her hip. “So are you going to show me what you do here?”

  “This is what I want to do with the rest of my life besides spending it with you.” I open my arms like I’m showing her the Taj Mahal and not a makeshift dirt track in the middle of nowhere.

  “You want to ride motorcycles?”

  I lead her over to the bleachers that Ryan dragged out here. “Not just motorcycles, dirt bikes. I want to race motocross.”

  “Wow, Adam, I don’t know what to say.” She squints up at me. “You should do it.”

  “I thought you said I need to go to college.” I smirk at her, leaning in closer, and she shivers despite it being ninety degrees out.

  “Yeah, well you should do that, too. But if this is something you want to do, then you should. What’s stopping you?”

  “My dad,” I say honestly. “He is getting older, and he has a hard enough time running the yard as it is. If I leave …” I shake my head. What I don’t say is that my mom left him and it almost killed him, so what would me leaving do to him?

  “I didn’t bring you here to cry about lost dreams. Will you watch me ride?”

  Biting at her bottom lip, she nods her head yes.

  Watching Adam ride is an adrenaline rush. If just watching him has my blood pumping, I can’t imagine the euphoria that must be rushing through him. I have never seen anything like him before—dirt bikes scream past each other, dust and gas fill the air. Riders whip around the dirt track, leaping over hills and doing tricks that look impossible, but somehow they manage to land them. But no matter how exciting they are, it is Adam who stands out amongst them. It is like it’s the most natural thing for him to be riding; he makes it look effortless as he leaps through the air. I have a nagging feeling that it’s not just his dad’s business that is holding him from going pro—because the boy has it—but that there’s something else. Who am I to pry? I have my own secrets holding me back.