Fast, Furious and Forbidden. Alison Kent
epitaph meant something special to Jeb.
“I was going to ask you about it the other morning in the pits. But never got the chance.”
Trey frowned. What had he missed? “You were going to ask me what?”
“About driving White Lightning in the Moonshine Run.” Jeb turned toward him, pushing his hat a couple of inches up his forehead.
Ah, finally. The point. “I don’t know. I’m not a driver.”
“You know how to drive. You know cars.”
He knew both, had driven more cars than Butch Corley’s in his time. He just didn’t know why Jeb would ask him of all people. “Why not get Tater to drive?”
“Because I want you.”
A loud crash came from the other side of the hauler, followed by Sunshine yelling at someone to watch the hell where he was going. “I don’t know your car. I’d have to look it over. Take it down the track first.”
“You’ll do it then.”
Trey laughed. “Now, I didn’t say that. But I will think about it.”
Jeb nodded as if that was good enough. “Don’t be a stranger while you’re in town. As many meals as you can eat are on the house at Headlights.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
“Good showin’ today, by the way. I never thought Bad Dog would hit three-twenty on that track.”
“The amount of time I’ve spent on that engine? I was hoping for better,” Trey said, thinking he should grab his fireproof driving gear before the hauler pulled out, just in case.
“I knew you were the right man for the job,” Jeb said, patting Trey’s shoulder before walking away, leaving Trey to wonder if Cardin’s grandfather wanted more from him than his skills as a mechanic—and what the hell it could be?
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