The Legend Read Online Free PDF Page A

increased
movements, our bearings were carrying equal loads.
    “Jesus,”
Sway panted resting her head against my chest as my breathing slowed, “you’d
think after eighteen years it wouldn’t feel so amazing.”
    “Oh
please, I’m the champ, remember?”
    She
slapped my chest and sat up, my hand trailed down her back over the tattoo she
had on her spine. Smiling, I read the scripture silently as if a reminder to
what we’d been through over the years.
    “I do
remember,” she kissed my arm before standing to slip on my t-shirt; “You’re
practically a legend.”
    Just
before we moved a pile of clothes from the bed and onto the floor, Sway’s cell
phone that she had found in the bathroom, chirped with a text message.
    “That
little shit,” she smiled shaking her head.
    “What?” I
set the alarm knowing I had to be at the sprint car shop in the morning to meet
Grady, our new fabrication specialist with JAR Racing.
    “Casten is
suspended for a week for that stunt today.”
    I said
nothing. Damn kids.

2. Back it In – Jameson
     
    Back it In
– Term used to describe a non-winged sprint cars’ entry into a corner. The car
enters the turn in a slide with the rear of the car leading the front of the
car.
     
    Every
morning that I woke in bed with my wife was a good morning. So many times, with
the crazy schedule we had, I was waking up alone and I didn’t like it. Now that
the kids were getting older, it was nice, on days like today, where there were
just a few things on our schedule and we didn’t have to worry about them today.
Next week I had to leave for Daytona and Sway was needed in Elma at Grays
Harbor Raceway track that we co-owned.
    “You ready
for this season?” Sway asked rolling onto my chest. Her light breathing evened
out as I drew the sheets higher.
    I kissed
along her collarbone, my mouth lingering in all the places I loved to pay extra
attention to. Like right behind her ear, or that spot where her hip bone met
the softer less prominent subtle skin of her stomach. I loved every inch of my
wife but did find pleasure in a few areas I knew could send her body into
overdrive.
    “You
didn’t answer my question,” she spoke again when I didn’t answer and kept pace
with my kisses. Eventually she sprawled against my chest again and listened to
my breathing. My fingertips traced the outline of her ribs.
    I shrugged
with indifference and a lazy smile. Her fingertips brushed over my chest
tattoo, the one that matched the scripture on her spine; that I had gotten over
the winter. “I’m always ready for racing.”
    As racers,
we didn’t live our lives by the calendar year but by the racing season, which
started in February and ended in late November. Our lives, as well as the lives
around us, all lived the life created by the adrenaline and speed. I guarantee
you; none of us would argue that. It was our way of life. The life we wanted.
    “You leave
on Tuesday, right?”
    “Yeah,” I
focused on her eyes when she looked at me. Beautiful, emerald, understanding
and loving green gazed back. “Tuesday I’m flying to Barberville and then I’ll
be with the boys celebrating Van’s birthday on Wednesday. I should be back late
Thursday sometime.”
    Sway
smiled when I changed positions. She looked up at me hovering over her again,
“and then your mom’s birthday next week ... ”
    “And
testing,”
    “ ... then Speedweeks,” Sway finished for me, her
hands found my shoulders as her index finger ran over the scar from my shoulder
surgery.
    “And so it
begins ... ” My breath blew across her face. A loose
strand of her hair fell to the side.
    Leaning
forward, I kissed her lips wondering when she’d want to leave this racing on
the edge lifestyle behind. Would she want this forever?
    Knowing
Sway, I knew the answer before I even asked.
    “You
ready?”
    “I’m
always ready for racing, winters feel ... strange.”
    It was true.
Come December, we were all itching to get to the tracks and back