Race To The Altar

by Patricia Hagan

  His eyes twinkled. “Well, you don’t know that. I might have said what a cute bottom you’ve got.”

  She laughed and scooped up a handful of sand and made to throw it at him, though they both knew she wasn’t about to.

  He caught her wrist and kissed her closed fist. With a steady gaze, he said, “Listen, Liz. Last night was wonderful. And I’m not sorry it happened, but we both know we’ve got to work together, and—”

  “And it can’t happen again,” she finished for him. She supposed she’d been expecting him to say something like that. “Right. I agree.”

  Mercifully, in the stilted silence that followed, a car appeared on the horizon. They leaped to their feet and began waving frantically, cheering when it stopped.

  The man and woman in the car were very friendly and accommodating. They drove them back to the ghost town, gave the battery a charge, and soon they were all on their way to Las Vegas.

  A few miles out of town Liz was able to use her cellphone. First, she called the airline and learned they could get a flight out in two hours if they could make it. She relayed the information to Rick, and he gave an assenting nod. Then she called Mack and said, “Car trouble,” in the middle of his frenzied demand to know what had happened. She gave him their flight number, arrival time in Charlotte, then said the connection was breaking up and ended the call.

  “No need to try to explain over the phone,” she said in response to Rick’s puzzled glance. “I think he was pretty worried. We’ll try to come up with something believable as to why we didn’t get in touch with him before now.”

  “Right, we’ll talk about it on the plane.”

  But, as it turned out, they wound up doing very little talking on the plane. Their seats were in the very back row. And one minute they were sitting side by side, both silent and reflecting on what had transpired between them in the past few hours, and the next Rick had spread a blanket over them and they were kissing as if there was no tomorrow.

  “This is crazy,” he said breathlessly between kisses. “I thought you couldn’t stand me…that you only put up with me because you have to.”

  “You’re the one who’s always trying to get rid of me,” she said, gasping as she clung to him.

  “Not anymore.” His lips trailed to her neck. “You can hang around all you want to…”

  “And you’ll never get to race, because we’ll be in the truck doing this,” she teased.

  “Oh, no. We’re not taking any chances on anybody finding out.”

  “I know that,” she said. “I was only teas—”

  He silenced her with another kiss.

  It was dark when they arrived in Charlotte, for they had encountered delays. Mack was waiting for them, and Rick immediately offered the story he and Liz had come up with—that the car had broken down on the way to the airport, and by the time they got a cab, the plane had left.

  “You could’ve called me,” he said. “I didn’t know what was going on.”

  “Sorry.” She did not look at him. “I was so tired when we got back to the hotel I fell asleep, and when I woke up it was too late to call.”

  Rick offered his excuse. “And I went to a show.”

  “Okay, okay, so now you’re here safe and sound,” Mack said. “Get some rest tonight. We’re leaving for Atlanta at five so we can be at the track when it opens.”

  They reached Liz’s apartment first. She avoided eye contact with Rick as she said a cheery good-night. Mack asked when she was driving to Atlanta, and she said not till Friday. “I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do.”

  Finally, in the quiet and privacy of her own place, Liz tossed her luggage aside. There would be time to unpack later. Right then all she wanted was soft music playing and a glass of chilled wine while she sat on her balcony and looked out on the lights of Charlotte.

  She took a hot shower, wrapped herself in her favorite robe—a fluffy pink chenille—and poured her wine.

  In the mellow darkness, tears came to Liz’s eyes as she thought of the past twenty-four hours. What conversation she and Rick had shared had not been of a very serious nature. They agreed discretion was called for. It would not do for the crew, the media, and certainly not her boss, or Rick’s sponsor, to find out.

  Perhaps that was why neither of them had spoken of the future. After all, a one-night stand brought about by circumstances beyond their control could hardly be regarded as a relationship. She would just try to file it away under good memories to recall on a lonely night.

  Her smile was bitter to think how many of those there were.

  The doorbell rang, jarring her from reverie.

  Warily she went to answer. It was too late for visitors, and she didn’t know anyone besides the guys on the team, anyway. Probably it was a pizza delivery boy who had the wrong address.

  She peered through the peephole, then gasped.

  “Rick, what are you doing here?” she cried once she had the chain lock undone and the door open. “I thought—”

  “I thought, too—” he grinned after a quick kiss “—about you and me and how good we are together.”

  He scooped her up into his arms, then smacked his lips and said, “Mmm. Kisses that taste like warm, sweet wine. It just don’t get no better.”

  He set her on her feet but did not let her go. Instead he began to sway in time to the lilting music of the Barry White CD that was playing. “I wanted to hold you like this at the party,” he murmured, pressing his lips against her forehead. “But I didn’t dare.”

  He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her face to his gaze. “It’s okay, isn’t it? Me being here, I mean? I tried to go to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking of you…us…how good it was, how much I wanted you.”

  His lips covered hers to sear and possess, and then he paused to whisper, “If you don’t want it, just tell me.”

  She was held deliciously captive in his warm embrace and completely seduced by his seeking mouth. As his hands caressed her back and slid to cup her bottom, she could only cling helplessly to him. “Yes, I do want it, Rick. I think—”

  She was grateful he again silenced her, for she had been about to confess that she had wanted him ever since the first time they had met. And that would not do. He had to think last night had been spontaneous. Pride would not allow her to reveal otherwise.

  He opened her robe, and it fell in a soft pool around her ankles. Holding her away from him, he raked her with feverish eyes. “Beautiful,” he said softly, huskily. “Absolutely beautiful.”

  He leaned to take a nipple into his mouth and suckled gently, then crushed her against him to take all of her.

  She threw her head back, long hair dusting her back. His hand went to her buttocks once more to thrust her against him, and she could feel his hardness.

  “Not here,” she said as he began to steer her toward the sofa.

  Shyly she took his hand and led him into the bedroom. It was not as feminine and cozy as she would have liked. Since moving, she’d scarcely had time to do more than put sheets on the bed and throw a blanket on top. But she knew it did not matter, because he had eyes only for her as she lay back to wait while he undressed.

  Liz marveled at the glorious sight of him, shivers rippling from head to toe. He had the magnificently toned body of an athlete. She knew that he, like many of the drivers, worked out to give them the strength and stamina they needed for the racetrack.

  He lay down beside her. “This beats making like a pretzel last night,” he said lightly, his fingers trailing up and down her side. “But I can’t complain, and I’d do it again if that’s all we had.”

  “And so would I.”

  She felt his erection slipping between her thighs. “I want you so bad, Liz. Here and now.”

  Her desire was just as fierce. Rolling onto her back, she urged him into position, then, reaching down, maneuvered him up and into her. “Then take me,” she commanded.

  With a low, delighted growl, he dr
ove himself in hard and deep.

  Her nails raked his back and hugged him tighter. She lifted her hips eagerly to meet his every thrust.

  And then she felt it coming—the ultimate thrill of release.

  And he came with her, in hard, quick jabs.

  Afterward, he rolled to his side, taking her with him. He did not let her go, instead holding her tight in quiet awe of the raw desire that had captivated them so quickly.

  In the velvet wake that follows tenderness and passion, Liz longed to speak, to tell him how she was helplessly falling in love with him but knew she had to remain silent.

  After a while, she thought perhaps he was sleeping, because he was so still and quiet.

  She started to get up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I thought you were asleep. I was going to get my wine.”

  He grabbed her and pulled her down beside him once more. “And you thought you could sneak away from me that easily? I don’t think so.”

  He began to rain kisses over her face, her neck, then down to her breasts and belly. “I’m going to make up for being in such a hurry. We’ve got the whole night, and I want to revel in every moment of it.”

  And revel they did.

  After another wild round of torrid lovemaking, they showered together, then wound up in bed all over again. Liz knew that never had she experienced such joy and wonder in a man’s arms.

  Finally they slept, exhausted.

  Some time later, Liz was jolted awake to hear Rick curse, “Damn it, I’ve overslept.”

  Groggy she reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on to see Rick rapidly dressing.

  “It’s nearly seven o’clock. Mack was supposed to pick me up at my place at six. No telling what he’s thinking.”

  “Well, thank God for cell phones,” she said. “Call him and tell him…” She trailed off uncertainly.

  Rick scowled. “Yeah, right. Tell him what?”

  He was buttoning his shirt as he headed for the door.

  Liz got out of bed and padded after him, snatching her robe from where she’d left it on the floor the night before. “You’ll think of something. Tell him you went to eat breakfast and had a flat tire or something.”

  “He’d wonder why I didn’t call. See?” He paused at the door to grin. “Sometimes cell phones can also be a curse.”

  He gave her a quick kiss. “But it was worth it, Liz. See you in Atlanta. And remember—” he tweaked her chin “—go back to acting like you can’t stand me.”

  Then he was gone, and she was once again left to her memories…which were, she smiled to think, getting better all the time.

  Rick cringed to see Mack standing in the middle of the parking lot, hands on his hips, feet apart.

  “So you’re back tom-catting again, are you?” Mack irritably greeted. “Why didn’t you tell me last night you had a late date? I could have dropped you off there and picked you up this morning to save time.”

  “Sorry. It was a sudden thing. And I’m only an hour behind schedule.”

  Mack grunted. “An hour and a half.”

  “Whatever. I won’t be but a minute. Gotta get some stuff and shave.”

  He ran inside, emptied dirty clothes out of his bag and threw in some clean ones, making a mental note to do laundry his first night back. And when would that be? Sunday night. Right. It wasn’t far to Atlanta. Then he’d be leaving for Darlington…when? He looked at the schedule on the refrigerator door. Tuesday. There was an annual golf tournament for drivers. Liz had said she wanted him to take part in that. Good exposure. Maybe a plug for the sponsor when he wore the special shirt with the Big Boy’s logo she’d had made up for the occasion.

  She was good at what she did, he thought as he took a quart of orange juice out of the fridge to take with him. She knew her stuff when it came to PR.

  And other things, as well, he acknowledged with a heated rush.

  He genuinely hoped it would work out they could keep things casual. There hadn’t been time for a serious conversation. It was all too new to them, that special wonder-of-it-all time between lovers. But he vowed they would eventually have an understanding. They had to, or a good thing would be ruined.

  Traveling together, working together, it could be an ideal situation for both of them…as long as Liz kept things in perspective. After all, it was only sex. Certainly not romance, not the way they’d traded barbs. They each had a physical need. That’s all. An itch, as Rick liked to call it. And they had scratched it and would do so again at the first opportunity.

  Chances were, he reasoned, she was only using him as he was using her.

  Rick was shaving and paused to stare at himself in the mirror.

  He was not so sure that’s how it was.

  And he also wasn’t so sure it was merely for sex.

  He liked her. They’d had a hell of a good time that day in the desert, and she was more fun than any woman he’d ever been with. The sex part of it just came naturally. He hadn’t schemed or planned to seduce her. It was just one of those things.

  And now that it had happened, he liked her all the more.

  Rick’s cell phone rang as he and Mack neared the outskirts of Atlanta. It was Liz, telling him she had arranged an appearance for him Friday night at the grand opening of a local Big Boy’s Pizza.

  She apologized for the late notice but said she only found out about it that morning. “I guess they figured since you’d be in town for the race, anyway, there was no need to let us know any sooner.”

  “Well, we could have had something else planned,” he said…then wished he hadn’t. It might make her think he’d been planning on asking her out. Quickly he added, “What I mean is, you might have had a radio show lined up or something. Charlotte is a big race—six hundred miles, longest on the circuit. Lots of things go on beforehand.”

  “And we’ll try to make sure if there’s any publicity to be had that you’re right in the middle of it. By the way, were you terribly late meeting Mack?”

  “Not too.” He didn’t want to talk about that…didn’t want to be reminded of just why he’d been late, because it made him hot to think about it. Indeed, he felt like a teenager again, and she was the reason.

  Liz did not miss the guarded way he responded. It had to be awkward for him to talk with Mack right there. “Well, I’ll see you Friday. If the team needs anything before, you know where to reach me. And don’t forget to tell Mack we’ll need a car there.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” He punched the button to disconnect.

  “I take it that was Liz,” Mack said. “Anything wrong?”

  “No. Why?” He was suddenly apprehensive, wondering if his voice had given him away.

  “Just wondering. She usually calls me.”

  Rick bit back a curse. That was true. She would tell Mack about any appearance where the show car was needed, and then he passed along the information to him. It had been another way she had of avoiding him…till now.

  “That must mean you two are getting along better,” Mack said. “I guess the R and R did the trick. By the way, how was your trip to the desert?”

  Rick gave a careless shrug. “Nothing special. Just an old ghost town. It was nice being in the wide-open spaces, though.”

  “Well, it’s good you two are hitting it off at last. Liz is quite a gal. Any guy would like to have her hanging around.”

  Rick decided to nip in the bud then and there any notion Mack had of a romance between him and Liz. “I still don’t like her hanging around. Women don’t belong around racetracks. Not in a working capacity. Or as a wife or girlfriend. They get in the way, and they overreact.”

  “I have to argue that point. Ida isn’t like that.”

  “You aren’t a driver, Mack. If you were, she’d go bananas, like other wives, when you crashed.”

  “Not all wives do that. Just like all wives don’t mind their husbands being involved in racing. Just because you had one that did, you’re judging all women, and th
at’s not fair.

  “Besides,” he rushed on, not giving Rick a chance to say anything, “I don’t think Liz is like that. From what I’ve seen, she’s got it all together.”

  “Like when she fainted in Daytona when I crashed.”

  Mack admonished, “Don’t tell me you still think that’s what it was. You know she hadn’t eaten all day, and she was worn-out from working and worrying over her first race.”

  Rick still wasn’t sure and supposed it didn’t matter. What worried him now was keeping things cool where she was concerned.

  His rational side told him to back away and quit while he was ahead.

  But the reckless part of him could not wait to be with her again.

  “Wonder if she’s seeing anybody.”

  Rick swung his head around to stare at Mack. “How would I know?”

  “I just thought she might have mentioned something since you two spent so much time together in Vegas.”

  “We didn’t get personal.” Rick turned on the radio in hopes Mack would take the hint and shut up.

  He didn’t.

  “I guess I worry she’ll meet some guy and fall in love and quit. It’d be a shame to lose her, too. She’s done a super job. But she is good-looking, and—”

  “What is it with you?” Rick snapped. “You got the hots for her or something?”

  “No,” Mack responded quietly, and flashed a smile in Rick’s direction. “I’m just trying to rattle your cage, old buddy, to make you see she’d be perfect for you, if you could lose that attitude.”

  Rick scrunched down in the seat and pulled his cap over his face. “Wake me when we get to the track. I’m too tired for your nonsense.”

  Mack chuckled. “That’s what you get for staying out all night trying to forget how having Liz around bugs you.”

  “Forget her?” Rick raised the cap long enough to stare incredulously. “How can I forget someone I never think about?” Covering his face once more, he settled back down and tuned Mack out.

  He had lied.

  He did think about Liz.

  Every day.

  All day long.

  And now that he knew the sweetness of making love to her it was even worse.