High Speed Hunger Read Online Free

table and did the same; only she choked on the strong drink and turned red. She shook her head and pounded her fist on the table.
    "Fuck, yeah! Take it down, baby!" Bobby cheered.
    Eileen groaned. Great. Not only would she have to take care of Pop, but Bobby would probably need an escort home, too. She had enough shit on her plate, and she knew too well what Bobby was like when he drank. He'd try to seduce her with his awkward moves and booze breath.
    "Do you race, Eileen?" Ty asked, raising his voice above the others.
    His question was a pleasant surprise, but just as she opened her mouth to answer, Bobby interrupted, "Nah, she don't do anything fun."
    The look Ty gave him was nothing short of murderous, and it gave Eileen a little ego boost; although, it also made her nervous. The last thing they needed was a fight when they should be celebrating.
    She got up and went over to her father, who was now unable to hold his head up straight. Leaning down, she whispered, "Let me take you home, Pop. You know they won't let you sleep in the bar."
    Pop rolled his head and she saw him eye Ty. "See what I— hiccup —go through?
    My girl here is always frettin' and whinin' . . . ."
    "Pop, that's not fair."
    Ty laughed. "Whining or not, she's right, and she's the boss, too."
    Eileen mouthed thank you to Ty. She needed all the help she could get.
    "Fuckin' hell. Fine." Pop pushed back in his chair, nearly toppling Eileen over. He stood and fell toward the table.
    Ty got up immediately and gripped Jonnie's elbow, holding him steady. Eileen looked over to Bobby who was deep in conversation with Jennifer. It pissed her off knowing he cared little for her father except for the money he paid him for racing. But Pop didn't know that, and she didn't have the heart to tell him.
    "I'm taking Pop home," she shouted to Bobby.
    He waved his hand in the air, not bothering to look up.
    "I'll help you get him to the car," Ty said.
    Embarrassed, Eileen didn't look at him. "Thank you."
    They dragged Jonnie out of the bar and into the parking lot to her Camaro. He bounced between them, tripping over his own feet.
    "Tell my boy not to worry about me," he slurred. "My baby will get me home."
    Ty and Eileen exchanged a worried glance but said nothing. When they reached her car, she opened the passenger door, and her father practically fell onto the passenger seat. She reached over and clicked the seat belt before closing the door.
    She sighed deeply, leaning her back against the frame. For once she'd like to enjoy a nice, sensible evening where she wasn't looking after anyone. Since Ma died, all Eileen did was work and take care of the boys .
    "You look like you need a vacation, Eileen."
    Her eyes whipped open. She'd forgotten Ty was still standing there. "Are you saying I look rough?"
    His teasing smile made her stomach flutter. "Nah. You could have the weight of the world on your shoulders and still look incredible. But you can only take on so much before you fall apart."
    She hated to admit it, but he was right, and he seemed to care about her. Another thing about him she liked. The guy was little more than a stranger, and yet, she felt like she'd known him for years.
    Awkward silence dragged on between them.
    Ty dug his hands in his jean pockets. She hadn't noticed until now how he looked without coveralls on. His jeans were baggy and the white T-shirt he wore was probably three sizes too big, but it suited him. She gazed over his features. Broad, muscular shoulders. Gold chain hanging from his neck. His jaw was clean-shaven and his hair layered in cornrows. But it was his dark eyes she couldn't stop staring at. They seemed to say so much without revealing anything at all.
    "You sure you want to leave Bobby here? I could take your dad home."
    "Bobby can take care of himself, but thank you anyway." He didn't need to know that she worried about Bobby, too. As far as Ty was concerned, she was the co-owner of a racing team and held everything in check. He