She’d followed his career.
Stunned, speechless, and a little misty-eyed, he glanced at Cruz.
A corner of Cruz’s mouth lifted. “She cares more than you think.”
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Davey turned back to the wall. There must have been hundreds of pictures. There were photos of go-kart races from when he was kid. A picture of his championship win in Super Modified that had propelled him into the Busch league. His first NASCAR win and a recent win at Pocono. A rush of pride coursed through him. After taking a few minutes to relive happy memories, he turned to Cruz. “Ready?”
Cruz squeezed his shoulder and they walked toward the bar together. Along the way, a few patrons recognized him and asked for his autograph. Used to the attention, Davey graciously signed napkins, papers, and even one woman’s T-shirt, then stepped up to the bar.
“Need a refill, Nora,” an elderly woman called out from the far end of the bar.
Davey’s head snapped toward the bartender—Nora his nemesis.
She wasn’t a beauty like the women he ran with, but he grudgingly admitted she was attractive. Her golden-brown hair was on top of her head in a messy bun that flopped around as she hustled behind the bar. With little to no makeup, she had a natural glow, a girl next door look. But he knew it was all a façade.
“Sure you want one, Maggie?” Nora asked as she filled another drink order. As Davey listened to her chatter, the irritation in his gut stirred. “Hud’s got a dark brew that smells amazing,” she said. “And he made fresh chocolate chip muffins.”
“Well….”
Davey didn’t wait for the old lady to respond. “You!” He pointed his index finger at Nora, unable to hold in his ire any longer.
She spun around and raised a brow.
“I never dated you,” he spat out.
“I never dated you either, asshole,” she responded.
His jaw dropped open. Girl next door, his ass. Her rude attitude caught him off guard; women didn’t talk to him like that. He supposed he’d been a little direct, but what had she expected? She had accused him of being the father of her child. “Do you know who I am?”
She slid over and met his gaze. “Based on your big ego, I’m gonna guess you’re Davey Johnson.”
Damn. She was a hot wire. He shook his head as Cruz let out a low chuckle.
He took in her stiff posture, the how-dare-you glint in her eye. “I take it you don’t follow NASCAR.”
“Why would I?” He must have looked surprised because she laughed. Laughed. “There are a few folks in east Tennessee who have better things to do than watch big boys play with their cars.”
Cruz’s chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh. The old lady who was still waiting for her drink hooted with laughter too.
Davey had to admit—at least to himself—that Nora’s response was funny. He’d never met a woman who had said anything like that, at least not to his face. Sure, he’d dated women who hadn’t known didley about racing, but they’d feigned interest to gain his attention.
He tapped his foot on the floor. “I can’t be your kid’s—”
She interrupted by putting a palm in his face. A palm right in front of his face. Pissed off and also a little intrigued, he zipped it.
“Do you really want to have this conversation here?” she asked, her voice frosty.
Glancing at the nearby patrons who were gaping in their direction, he conceded Nora had a point. He opened his mouth to say so, but she hadn’t waited for his reply. She had already turned toward Cruz. Clearly, she hadn’t been asking as much as she’d been telling.
Her expression softened. “You must be Cruz,” she said, extending a hand. “Nora.” The two of them shook hands.
“It’s a pleasure.” Cruz lifted her hand and kissed it, while Davey blew off steam.
“Steph told me you were coming,” she said, her voice singsong, her eyes honey-sweet. “She speaks highly of you.”
Relegated to second fiddle, Davey shifted uncomfortably. Not that he begrudged attention for Cruz, the man was salt of the earth. But he’d never had a woman completely and intentionally antagonize him, and then ignore him to boot.
“She speaks highly of you as well,” Cruz said, smiling at Nora. “Speaking of….”
Davey’s mother appeared at the far end of the bar, and a surge of emotions rushed through him—hurt, anger, and even though he didn’t welcome it, a hint of affection too. She looked good, really good, as if the years had been kind to her. Her hair was as bright, her facial features as soft as he had remembered. She’d maintained a decent shape for a woman in her forties. Resentment slithered into his jaw, and he clamped it together so tight that it hurt. Why wouldn’t she look good? After she’d run out on him and his dad, she’d probably remarried and lived the high life. He, on the other hand, had been working his ass off trying to make something of himself while trying to stay away from his dad’s alcoholic ways. He ran a hand down one side of his jaw and then the other, in an attempt to ease the pressure.
Cruz strode over to his mother.
She rounded the bar and walked into Cruz’s open arms. After a long hug, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek, her fair complexion a stark contrast to Cruz’s mocha-colored skin. They quietly spoke to each other. His mother laughed at something Cruz had said while he rested his hand on her arm. There was an unmistakable fondness between the two of them, and Davey’s stomach squeezed with envy.
Cruz linked arms with Davey’s mother and they headed his way.
Even though Davey had been thinking about this meeting all week, he still wasn’t altogether prepared. He’d anticipated the hurt and bitterness, but he hadn’t expected to remember the care, the warmth, the love he and his mother had once shared.
He reminded himself that that had been eleven damn years ago before she’d dumped him along with his dad.
“Davey,” she said, as she approached, her voice shaky.
Because he wasn’t a complete jerk or maybe because a boatload of mixed emotions were still racing through his system, he gave her a quick hug. He didn’t say anything, in part because he didn’t know what to call her. After eleven years, she sure as hell didn’t deserve to be called mom, but he wasn’t so cold as to call her Steph, at least not to her face. Which left him in a predicament, so he said nothing at all.
She either didn’t notice or elected to let it go. Instead, she gave him a warm smile. “It’s good to see you. Why don’t we all go to my office?” she suggested, and then called out over her shoulder. “You too, Nora.”
Nora turned to one of the waitresses. “Jenna, can you cover the bar?”
“Sure,” the pretty blonde responded to Nora, then flashed him a smile.
That was more like it. He winked at the blonde.
Nora rolled her eyes, then strode toward the back. He couldn’t help but notice how fine her ass looked in the skinny blue jeans, tightly hugging her globes as she moved out of sight.
His mother led him and Cruz behind the bar, down the hall and into her office where she gestured at the chair and loveseat facing her desk. “Make yourselves at home.” She lowered onto one of the cushioned chairs and Cruz sat next to her. With no other choice, Davey eased onto the loveseat next to Nora.
His gaze caught and held Nora’s and a jolt of desire punched him in the gut.
Oh, hell no. Not with her.
It was nothing. It was probably just a reaction to those big, expressive eyes that sparkled like emeralds.
“Listen,” Nora said, her voice soft, throaty—and damn it—undeniably sexy. Leaning in, she gently clasped her hands around his lower arm. “I’m sorry I called you an asshole out there.”
Cruz chuckled, and Davey’s mom laughed too, although she quickly turned it into a cough when he glanced in her direction.
Every nerve in his body stirred at Nora’s touch, and the tension between them snapped, crackled, and popped like his breakfast cereal. She must have felt it too because she jerke
d her hands away before continuing.
“Sometimes things pop out of my mouth that I shouldn’t say out loud.” He couldn’t help but grin at her half-assed apology. She didn’t say he wasn’t an asshole, only that she shouldn’t have called him one. She lowered her head a little. “I’m sorry.”
Surprised by her blatant honesty, he laughed. “I’ve been called worse.”
Nora shifted and glanced at his mother. After she gave Nora an encouraging smile, Nora turned back to him. “I’m not Ben’s mother.”
Irritation pricked up his spine. Had Nora and his mother made this whole thing up? Before he could demand an explanation, Nora spoke again.
“Ben’s my nephew,” she said. “His mother, my sister, Lynn, recently passed away.”
Davey’s irritation froze mid-way up his spine, then dissipated altogether as he slumped against the loveseat, his mind morphing back in time. Lynn Williams, his teenage love. Lynn had adored everything about racing, including him. She’d spent countless hours hanging out at the track, feeding his ego and swooning over his driving. A self-proclaimed wild child, Lynn had been fun and adventurous. They had skinny-dipped in Serenity Lake, made love in broad daylight in a field of daisies, and on a bet, had streaked down Main Street together. She’d had a tough exterior, but inside she had been sweet as honey. They had dated for over six months, which had made it all the harder for him to end the relationship when he, Cruz, and his dad had moved from Tennessee to Alabama.
He ran a hand over his newly-trimmed hair. What if he was Ben’s dad? He’d never wanted to bring children into this world, but there was a real possibility he was already a father. As a new wave of anxiety gripped his throat, Davey was rendered speechless.
Thankfully Cruz stepped in. “Did your sister tell you Davey was Ben’s father?” he asked Nora.
“She said Ben’s father’s name was Davey.” She clasped her fingers together and squeezed them so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “We didn’t have the best home life so Lynn never brought her boyfriends home.”
Davey remembered that about Lynn because he had found it peculiar. He’d taken her to his place many times. They’d hung out on the front porch, frolicked in the nearby creek, and snuck up to his room whenever his dad went out. He wondered what had been so bad about Nora and Lynn’s home life, but one glance at Nora indicated he wasn’t getting any further explanation. Her face had paled and her pretty eyes had lost some of their sparkle.
Looks like he wasn’t the only one who had experienced childhood pain.
“I tried to get your last name,” Nora told him. “I thought you deserved to know about Ben, but Lynn wouldn’t give it to me. She said you’d moved away and that you didn’t want to be a father.”
Davey’s stomach hardened as his mind drifted back to a few weeks before he had moved to Alabama. He and Lynn had been making out on the bleachers at the local dirt track. When they’d come up for air, Lynn had wanted to talk. She’d never been a big talker, but that night she had asked him a bunch of questions, including whether he ever wanted to have kids. He’d given her an emphatic, hell no. Afterward, she had pulled back a little. At the time, he’d assumed it was because he had to move. Now, he wondered if it had been because she’d been pregnant.
“There’s a picture,” his mother said, extending a framed photo toward him.
Davey rose and retrieved the picture. Studying Lynn, his heart tugged. Smiling brightly, her blue eyes sparkled with pride. He had loved how she’d enthusiastically cheered him on and how she’d taken as much pride in his wins as he had.
His mother told him about the shirt Lynn had on and then pointed to the date printed at the bottom of the picture. “Ben’s birthday is in December,” she said. The race had been in May so Lynn would have been pregnant at the time. Unless she had cheated on him—which he found unlikely considering they’d seen each other practically every day—he was a daddy.
The full-fledged panic he anticipated didn’t come. Instead, a tenderness he hadn’t expected swirled in his chest, loosening his anxiety ever so slightly. His heart beat wildly as he turned toward Nora. “Do you have a birth certificate?”
She nodded. “I do, but it doesn’t help. It lists Ben’s father as unknown.”
“Do you have a picture of Ben?” Cruz asked.
Nora pulled out her phone, tapped a few buttons, and handed it to Cruz.
“He’s a good-looking boy,” Cruz said, then handed the phone to Davey with a knowing glint in his eye.
Shit.
Davey took the phone and gaped at the spitting image of his youthful self. His blood pummeled with fear. What the hell did he know about being a father?
Regardless, he recognized and accepted that Ben was his son. Even so, they needed confirmation. He lifted his gaze to Nora’s. “I’ll take the test.”
Chapter Five
It was no surprise to Nora that the paternity test came back positive, confirming that Davey was Ben’s biological father.
As she drove across town to meet him, nerves rumbled in her belly. She had been determined to find Davey for one reason—so Ben would have family to take care of him should something happen to her. She hadn’t thought through what having a father would mean for Ben. She also questioned whether Davey wanted to be a father. He didn’t strike her as the paternal type. What if he wanted nothing to do with Ben? That would crush Ben…but only if they told him Davey was his father.
She pulled into the diner’s parking lot contemplating how to protect Ben. She decided she would outline rules of engagement with Davey, including not telling Ben the news until she was confident that Davey would stick around.
Last night, she’d had the opposite fear—that Davey would fight her for full custody and being Ben’s biological father, he would take Ben away from her. After thinking it through, she’d pushed that worry aside. Davey was a NASCAR driver who traveled most of the year. He didn’t have time to take care of a child…unless he hired a nanny. A hint of panic reappeared, but she brushed that aside too. Traveling non-stop wouldn’t be a good life for a nine-year-old, nor would it be what Ben wanted. He had made it perfectly clear that his desire was to stay in Serenity.
A glance at her watch indicated she was fifteen minutes early. She made her way inside the diner and slid into a booth in the back. She ordered hot tea, then waited and worried. She had no idea what to expect with Davey. When he’d called her yesterday, he had shared the test results in a factual manner without giving away any emotion. Now that he’d had time to let the news sink in, what was he feeling? Anger, panic…joy?
She took a sip of tea to calm her nerves, then glanced at her phone. Davey was ten minutes late. Impatience kicked at her gut. Did he think his time was more valuable than hers? She tapped her fingers on the table as she took another swig of tea.
Five minutes later, Davey arrived. He quickly spotted her, but spent the next little while signing napkins, papers, and a ballcap as he made his way toward her. With each interruption, Nora’s jaw clenched. By the time he slid into the seat across from her, she was simmering with irritation.
“Glad you could finally make it,” she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
He raised a single brow and nodded at her mug. “Haven’t had enough caffeine this morning?”
When Davey turned to look for the waitress, she shot over faster than Nora could blink.
Nora rolled her eyes while Davey laid on the charm. She had to admit he was good-looking. That is if you liked the sun-kissed blond, blue-eyed, tall, lean look. And apparently, the waitress did. As Davey signed her order pad, she hung on his every word. She told him that he’d had a great season and that she had cried after he’d wrecked in some race.
Cried? Seriously? It was a race, not a matter of life and death. Finally, she took Davey’s order for a cup of coffee. When she started to walk away, Davey touched her arm and the woman turned back. Her eyes sparkled and her face flushed as she glanced back and forth between Davey’s hand on her arm
and his face. “Amber, could you also bring Nora—” he nodded in her direction “—another tea?” His lips ticked up into an obnoxious grin. “She seems to be a little short on caffeine this morning.”
After Amber pulled herself together and made her way toward the kitchen, Nora pinned a look on Davey. “It must be exhausting to be you.”
“You can’t even imagine,” he said, his tone surprisingly genuine.
Maybe he did get tired of the doting, after all. She could empathize. She would hate being recognized everywhere she went, having people ask for her autograph, and even worse, dealing with the media tracking her every move. Maybe he hated it too. He probably had to be charming and gracious as a part of his job.
But that wasn’t her concern. They were here to talk about Ben.
The waitress returned with their drinks, then lingered to ask if Davey needed anything else…repeatedly. Losing patience, Nora tapped her foot on the floor as Amber hemmed and hawed and made a general fool out of herself. Nora consciously focused on blinking her eyes instead of rolling them. The latter was a bad habit she’d been trying to break.
Amber finally left with a promise to check back on them.
Huffing in frustration, Nora shifted toward Davey, then got down to business. “How d’you feel about being a father?”
“No, how are you? How’s the weather? How was your season?” Amusement danced in Davey’s eyes. “You’re a straight-shooter, Nora Williams.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I try.” She poured hot water over a new tea bag. “And nothing personal, but I don’t follow NASCAR.”
“Let’s start over.” Davey’s lips curved into a smile. “I’m sorry I was late. Cruz and I lost track of time going through my dad’s stuff.”
Nora’s irritation snapped like a twig in a storm. Steph had told her that Davey’s dad had passed in January and that he and Cruz had been the driving force behind Davey’s career. She lifted her gaze. “I’m sorry about your father.”
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