The Key To Micah's Heart (Hell Yeah!) Read Free Page B

him a disapproving glance. He was familiar with that look. Years ago, he’d dated a girl who hated when he’d ride the cart while they were grocery shopping. “You’re only as old as you feel!” he yelled over his shoulder. A couple of the women laughed, but he could hear the grouchy one fussing at them for encouraging improper public behavior.
    “Yee-haw!” Micah couldn’t care less. Jumping off, he pulled the cart to a screeching halt next to his car, almost turning it over in the process. “Crap,” Micah quipped as he struggled to regain his balance and keep the cart from tipping over. Smoothing his coat with one hand, he removed his hat and ran his free hand through his unruly mane of long hair. “No sweat, Wolfe. You still look cool.”
    While he’d been in the store, the windows of his car had fogged over significantly. And rightly they should have. In the backseat were several large silver aluminum pans full of uncut BBQ brisket, still hot after a day’s worth of cooking time. He’d gotten up early and put five fifteen pound briskets on the pit. They’d basked in the red oak smoke for four hours before he’d pulled them off and finished the succulent Texas beef in a slow oven. Any cowboy worth his salt knew it was easier to slice them after they cooled a bit, and to always cut across the grain so the meat would be tender.
    Carefully he unloaded the buns, piling them into the trunk of the car. It was a good thing he’d emptied it of all his gear yesterday, because between the brisket taking up most of the backseat and the slaw and other trimmings in the front, there wasn’t room for them anywhere else.
    Micah slid his big frame behind the wheel of his new Dodge Challenger. He’d gone with the Hellcat V8 and all that extra horsepower could be hazardous to the food and his interior if he got overexcited on the drive. The car was pitch black with matte black rims and tinted windows that made it seem like the sporty car was a part of the night itself. When he gunned the engine, the powerful roar scared the living tar out of anyone who happened to be near. Micah smiled at the thought.
    ‘You just love people looking at you, don’t you?’ Destry remarked with a shake of his head when Micah had first shown him his new car.
    Micah had just tipped his hat to his buddy, who was now serving as Secretary of State under their mutual friend, Texas Governor, Kyle Chancellor. ‘I dare say they get more enjoyment out of it than I do.’
    ‘Conceited ass.’ Destry had laughed.
    Turning the key, the engine came to life and Micah fired up the vents to clear the fogged windows. He relaxed behind the wheel, his seat pushed as far into the back seat as it would go. At six foot two, he needed all the room he could get to accommodate his long legs. Everything in Micah’s life was built around his need to be carefree. Some people said Micah Wolfe had a smirk on his face even in his sleep, but that wasn’t always true. Tonight his heart was heavy and the weight of the memories crashed down on him like a tsunami.
    A lump formed in his throat. “Suck it up, Wolfe.” He turned the rear-view mirror toward him to make sure all was right. Yep. The smirk was there, but it wasn’t as sharp, not quite as cocky as usual.
    Opening the console, he moved a few things out of the way and drew out his favorite pair of racing gloves. The word Fox blazed across the back of the hands in bright neon green. Wearing these, he’d won every dirt bike tournament he’d entered in his early teens. They’d once belonged to Colton. The fingertips had been snipped off of the old tattered racing gloves to allow for Micah’s big hands. Slipping them on, he glided from the parking lot slowly, a most un-Micah-like thing to do. Tonight would be difficult, he’d need all the luck he could get his hands on.
     
    Madison enters the picture…
     
    Sunny Fellows eyes were half-closed. “Are you sure, baby?” Her face was flushed, her words