Free Racing to Love: Eli's Honor by Amy Gregory Page B

mentally cussing through the pain.
    Honor’s knife dropped to the sink, and her hands were on him immediately, one hand on his upper arm, the other on his chest, probably fearing he’d crumble to the ground. In reality, if that was going to happen, he highly doubted she’d have the strength to keep him upright. The concern on her face was what he concentrated on as he blew out a breath.
    He nodded, “I’m okay, really.”
    Her brow tensed, and her lips parted. “No. You’re not okay, Eli. What can I do?”
    “Nothing, really. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Just turned a funky direction.”
    “You turned to look behind you, that shouldn’t cause you pain. Especially, not like that.”
    Keeping one hand on his hip for pressure, he laid the other palm over the hand she still had on his chest, partly because he wanted to reassure her everything would be all right, but mostly because he didn’t want to lose the connection. His heart was pounding, and this time it wasn’t just from the pain.
    “Is he okay, Mom?”
    Reality check.
    Eli had forgotten for a split second that they weren’t alone. He forced a smile—something he was used to doing—and turned his attention to the boy.
    “I’m all good, Dallas. Sorry buddy, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

    He shouldn’t have, but when Honor held out the basket of rolls out in front of him, Eli couldn’t resist the temptation to grab a fourth. There was a hint of pride on her face, as if she was testing him. “You’re a hell of a gourmet chef, Honor.” He smirked, as he wiped his buttery fingers off on his napkin.
    “Fried chicken is a long way from gourmet, but thank you,” she answered as she refilled his tea glass without asking him first, as if she’d done it a million times. A fact that Eli quickly noticed and let himself believe it was more than just because she was trying to be a good hostess.
    They spent mealtime in comfortable conversation, roaming between stories about Dallas as a younger child and Eli’s antics as a young rider years ago. He even indulged them with tales about him, Carter, and Jesse that embarrassed him, but it was all right because Carter and Jesse didn’t look so hot either.
    “Oh, and don’t you ever tell her I told you this”—Eli bit his lip knowing Molly would kill him for this—“but Molly one time, oh my gosh. You were too young to know George, but she grew up racing around him, and before he retired last year, he’d been in charge of the pro circuit. Well, her dad, James, is quite a prankster, even though he’s this nationally known architect. One time, when we were all still racing, and Molly was still doing the preshows, he loaded her 450cc bike in the trailer with her 250cc and had her ride out on the track in front of George, knowing he’d have a fit.” Eli grinned as Dallas’s face spread wide with anticipation. “See, George was very protective of Molly, and her dad was right—George screamed at her from the tower during the practice. So what’s Molly do after she does her whole routine, which by the way, included a backflip? She rides a wheelie down the straightaway, then turns and rides right up to the tower, and does a stoppie. Brody, Carter—all of us were wiping tears from our faces we were laughing so hard. She yanks off her helmet as he’s coming down from the tower, his finger waving, pointing and yelling ‘I’m going to tell James on you two,’ thinking that the siblings were just being ornery. And then, get this…Brody screams back, because we were all standing off to the side of the track watching her practice, ‘it was Dad’s idea’!” Eli grinned and reached over to pat her back as Honor choked on her drink, shaking her head. Dallas was laughing as hard as Eli had been the day Molly pulled that stunt.
    “What us guys didn’t know at the time, was that George and James are best friends, and have been since they were about your age.” He winked at