Hearts Under Caution

by Gina Wilkins

  “It looks like my parents have already turned in,” Lisa commented, glancing at the few lighted windows in the house.

  “I won’t come in, then.”

  She nodded, and he got the impression that she was not disappointed. Maybe she just needed to think about everything that had happened between them that weekend. He could certainly understand if that was the case, since he’d been doing a lot of that, himself.

  He turned to face her after turning off the engine. “We should probably talk about what happened between us this weekend.”

  He watched her throat work with a hard swallow. “I suppose we should,” she agreed, sounding as reluctant as he felt to get into that sticky area.

  “But not now, of course.”

  “No,” she agreed with almost comical haste. “Not now.”

  “I’ll call you sometime tomorrow, okay? Maybe we can have dinner or something before it’s time to leave for New York.”

  “Maybe.”

  Not exactly a commitment. But then, she’d always been leery of commitments when it came to him, he thought ruefully.

  He reached for his door handle.

  “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

  Ignoring her protest, he climbed out of the car and walked around the front to open her door. Carrying her bags, he escorted her to the door, remembering the last time they had stood there. When she had initiated a kiss that had shaken him to his boots, leaving him thinking there was the slightest chance that he could have the future he’d once planned for them, after all.

  It was when he’d woken up beside her in his motor home and had realized how very right it had felt to do so that he’d panicked. He’d asked himself what the heck he thought he was doing setting himself up to be hurt and disappointed by her again. Knowing as he did that nothing had really changed between them.

  So he’d bolted, straight back to the one place where he’d always felt at home and in control. The track.

  He could tell by her body language that there would be no kiss tonight. He didn’t know whether she’d had second thoughts about spending the night with him, or if she was annoyed with him for pulling away from her afterward. Not to mention yelling at her in front of a few thousand people. He wouldn’t blame her, either way.

  “We’ll talk later,” he said.

  She nodded and keyed in the security code to her parents’ house. “Good night, Wade.”

  He set her bags just inside the door, then backed away. “Good night, Lees.”

  She started to close the door between them, then pulled it open again. “Wade?”

  He paused on the top step, turning quickly. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you again. For everything. You’ve been a very good friend.”

  Friend. He mulled the word over a moment, trying to decide how he felt about it. Before he could make up his mind, she closed the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  LISA’S APARTMENT IN Chicago felt musty, almost unfamiliar, even though it had been only two weeks since she’d left it. She had wandered through it aimlessly Tuesday afternoon, trying to avoid looking at the bedroom window where someone—presumably Jesse Norris—had tried to break in. Norris was safely in custody again, so she didn’t have to worry about him, but she still thought she might move to another apartment complex soon. One with more security.

  She sat now at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee and her laptop, trying to catch up on some of the things she’d missed at work during the past two weeks. It was harder than usual to pay attention. She was battling too many emotions to put them easily aside so that she could concentrate on her work.

  Guilt was probably the most prominent of those emotions. She had left Charlotte that morning without even telling Wade goodbye.

  Her father had tried to talk her out of going, reminding her that she had two weeks left of her vacation. He’d asked if she’d had a fight with Wade.

  “No, Wade and I didn’t have a fight,” she had replied evasively. “I just need to go back to Chicago sooner than I had expected. For, um, work reasons.”

  He hadn’t believed her, and neither had her mother, though her mom hadn’t tried to change her mind. “Do what you need to do, sweetheart,” she had said. “But know that our doors are always open when you want to come home.”

  Promising to be back soon, Lisa had boarded a plane, feeling like a coward as she had run away from North Carolina. From Wade.

  She couldn’t think straight when he was in the room with her. Not even in the same state with her, apparently. She had needed the distance between them in order to separate what her head was telling her from the messages that came from her heart.

  She had told her parents to let Wade know that she’d gone back to Chicago to take care of some personal business, and that he could call her cell phone if he wanted to talk.

  He’d probably gotten that message by now. He hadn’t called. She didn’t think that he would.

  She had hurt him six years ago. She didn’t know why she could see that now when she couldn’t then. Maybe it had been finding that little horseshoe trinket tucked away with his T-shirts. Maybe it was just that she’d been able to see more of the real Wade this time than she had when girlish infatuation and unrealistic hopes had clouded her vision.

  Leaving like this, without even a goodbye, had probably hurt him again. After all he had done for her, he hadn’t deserved that. She had regretted her decision halfway back to Chicago, but by then it had been too late to change her mind.

  She thought about calling him. She actually picked up the telephone and dialed the first three digits of his cell phone number before hitting the disconnect button. And then she hid her face in her hands and wondered how she had ended up in this condition after taking such pride in her competence and decisiveness for so long.

  WADE TOLD HIMSELF IT WAS NICE to have his motor home back. Heck of a lot more convenient than schlepping back and forth from the track to a hotel room or camping out on Jake’s couch. His own toiletries in the bathroom, his clothes in his own closet, his favorite foods in the kitchen. His own bed.

  With no one in it but himself.

  Some people were meant to share their lives. Some had the talent to be able to compartmentalize their time between career and family. Some were lucky enough to find mates who understood their obsessions and found a way to work around them. Ronnie and Mike came immediately to his mind. And then there were those, such as Digger and himself, who were better off single, concentrating on the careers that consumed their every waking moment.

  At least he had managed to avoid Digger’s mistakes, Wade told himself as he sat on the end of the bed in his motor home, staring morosely at the TV that wasn’t turned on. Digger had been through several divorces before coming to the same realization that Wade had finally accepted a few days earlier. When he’d found out that Lisa had gone back to Chicago. Without even telling him that she was leaving.

  He took pride in knowing he’d given nothing away when Woody told him. He’d merely lifted an eyebrow, nodded and gone back to work. He would be willing to bet no one could tell that inside he felt as though he’d just crashed full speed into a wall.

  Wasn’t that how he’d earned his nickname?

  So here he was. Alone on a Thursday night before qualifying. At a road racetrack that would offer exactly what he and Jake thrived on—a challenge. The car was in good shape, Jake was pumped and ready to qualify. It was going to be a great weekend, win or lose.

  He stood and opened his T-shirt drawer, taking out the old paperweight. It was looking pretty bad, most of the paint flaked off, the felt worn off the bottom. It was probably made of lead or something and was poisoning his Tees. He should probably throw it away.

  For several long moments, he stood there, looking down at the worthless trinket in his hand. And then he put it back where it had been and slowly closed the drawer.

  “PITIFUL. JUST PITIFUL.”

  Lisa looked up Saturday morning from her cl
uttered desk to the woman standing in her office doorway. “What?”

  Davida entered the office and moved a stack of paperwork out of a chair so she could sit down. “You could be watching race practice in New York but instead you’re here on a Saturday working. You had two more weeks of your vacation left and what do you do? You come back to work. On a weekend. Pitiful.”

  Wrinkling her nose, Lisa demanded, “Aren’t you here on a Saturday?”

  “Well, yeah. But I didn’t have anything better to do,” Davida replied with a shrug. “Might as well wade through some paperwork rather than sit at home and watch dust collect on the furniture.”

  Lisa knew that Davida was going through a spell of empty nest syndrome. Divorced, she had raised a son on her own. Her son had recently moved out to go to college on the west coast. Now Davida stayed busy with work and her passion for racing and football—in that order. She said it was enough to satisfy her, but Lisa couldn’t help wondering if that were really true.

  They talked a few minutes about the two races Lisa had seen. She shared a few behind-the-scenes anecdotes that made Davida happy. Davida asked questions about some of her favorite drivers and Lisa answered what she could. “You have to remember,” she added, “I was sort of lying low during both races. I didn’t hide, exactly, but I stayed close to Dad’s teams.”

  “That just had to be so cool,” Davida said with a wistful sigh. “All those racing people. All that excitement. Especially since your driver won both races.”

  “Yes, it was very exciting,” Lisa murmured, though she wasn’t thinking about the races. “But it was time for me to get back to my real life. My own work.”

  “It’s good to have you here,” her friend said, standing. “Even though I still think it’s pitiful that you’d run back to work the minute the coast was clear.”

  Lisa laughed and waved Davida away. Her smile faded the moment she was alone again.

  Davida had no way of knowing, of course, that Lisa hadn’t been running toward her work as much as she had been running away from Wade. And she felt more like a coward now than she had when she left Chicago for North Carolina.

  BUBBA AND TONY served barbecued chicken, grilled corn on the cob and deli-style potato salad Saturday. The food was good, or at least, Wade assumed it was from the way everyone was raving about it. As for himself, he ate without really tasting, his thoughts far away.

  Jake was talking to his publicist about the next day’s schedule, while Digger and Ronnie were huddled in a discussion about race strategy and the other members of the crews perched in various locations to eat and talk. Ninety percent of those conversations probably revolved around racing in some way, Wade figured. Like himself, a lot of these guys didn’t really know how to talk about anything else.

  “How’s your chicken, Wade?” Katie asked, wandering over to stand next to his chair after finishing her own meal.

  He had been so deep in his thoughts that it took him a moment to process what she had asked. “Um…it’s good, thanks. Did you get enough to eat?”

  “More than enough,” she said with a smile, patting her tummy. It seemed to be true that there was a special glow about an expectant mother.

  Because he rarely conversed with Katie alone, he searched awkwardly for something to say. “So, how are you feeling?”

  “Great. I miss Lisa this weekend, though.”

  So did he. But instead of saying so, all he did was nod.

  “Will she be back for another race this season, do you think?”

  He stared down at his plate. “I don’t know.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  “I asked her to this one. She went back to Chicago, instead.”

  Maybe his tone had given away too much. Katie perched on the edge of an empty lawn chair next to him and studied him somberly. “She’s really into you, you know.”

  He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Especially since Lisa had gone back to Chicago rather than come with him to the track.

  “I have a feeling you’re still into her, too. Though I wonder if you’ve ever admitted it. Even to yourself.”

  He leveled a look at Katie, getting a blandly innocent smile in return. “You can’t yell at a pregnant lady,” she informed him. “Even one who’s giving you unwanted advice about your love life.”

  “Yeah? Watch me.”

  Not in the least intimidated, she giggled and patted his arm. “Okay, I’ll butt out. Just let me say one more thing?”

  He nodded reluctantly.

  “As obvious as it is to me that you two are perfect for each other, I can’t help but wonder if either of you have ever talked about your feelings. I mean, you aren’t exactly the chatty type, and I don’t think it’s much easier for Lisa to open herself up. And yet, you’re both such nice people. Despite your nickname, I don’t think you’re at all coldhearted, Wade. Just very guarded. But maybe there are some things that are worth taking a risk for?”

  She stood without giving him a chance to respond—not that he knew what he would have said. Patting his shoulder like the kindergarten teacher she was, she said, “Okay, I’m shutting up now, and I promise I won’t bring it up again. I just really like you both, you know? And I can’t help thinking that you could work things out between you—if you would only really talk with each other.”

  More touched than he might have expected, Wade nodded. “Thanks, Katie,” he said, his voice gruff. And he left it at that, because he couldn’t think of anything to add.

  LISA WAS STILL AT THE OFFICE when Wade called her Saturday evening. It was just after six in Chicago, an hour later where he was, but she would have thought he’d still be huddled in a meeting with his crew about the next day’s race. She certainly hadn’t expected him to call her.

  “Is this a bad time?” he asked, sounding a bit awkward.

  “No. I’m at my office, just wrapping up to go home.”

  “Working late on a Saturday?”

  “I have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Yeah…well…” His voice trailed off.

  “Wade?” She gripped the phone more tightly. “Is there a reason you called?”

  “You left without saying goodbye.”

  She winced in response to the accusatory undertone in his otherwise uninflected words. “I know. I’m sorry. I just…needed to come back to work.”

  “You had two more weeks of vacation left.”

  “Have you ever taken your full vacation time?” She knew the answer to that, of course. Her mother had told her that Wade rarely used all the time he accrued as a longtime employee of Woodrow Racing.

  He left the question unanswered, choosing instead to say quietly, “I miss you here, Lees.”

  Such a simple, unvarnished statement. And yet it absolutely floored her. From Wade, that was practically a flowery monologue.

  “I miss you, too,” she whispered honestly. “But—”

  How could she explain that being there for him wasn’t enough for her? That she wished she could be more like Katie and Andrea and so many of the other women she’d met, for whom racing was almost as much their passion as it was for the men they loved. Women who reveled in supporting their partners’ careers and raising their children and finding fulfillment in family and charity work. She felt almost petty and self-absorbed for not being more like them, and she resented that feeling because she knew it wasn’t fair to compare herself to them.

  Typical of Wade not to let her take the easy way out. “But what?”

  “But I need my work,” she said finally. “Just as you need yours.”

  After a lengthy, taut pause, Wade demanded, “Have I ever once asked you to give up your work? Or even implied that it’s any less important than my own?”

  She was surprised by the sudden irritation in his voice. “I, um—”

  He cut into her stammering to say coolly, “If you’re going to write us off, Lisa, at least base your decision on reality, not what you think I want or don’t want.”

&n
bsp; “How can I know what you want or don’t want,” she was stung into retorting, “when you’ve never told me? You never tell me anything that you’re thinking or feeling.”

  “I’m not the only one, apparently. This is the first I’ve heard that I haven’t been supportive of your career.”

  She started to argue, but then realized that he’d made a legitimate point.

  “I know I’m not very good at communicating, but I’m not the one who keeps leaving without explaining why,” he added, just in case she hadn’t caught on.

  “No,” she murmured after several long moments. “I guess you aren’t.”

  “Look, we need to talk. Really talk, for the first time ever, I guess. But not like this. Not on the phone.”

  Just the thought of that long-overdue discussion made her heart thump with apprehension, making her wonder now just which one of them had been the most fearful about sharing feelings. But because she was ready to finally stop being a coward, she said, “Yes, we do need to talk.”

  “I’ll call you after I get home from the race, okay? We’ll work something out.”

  “All right. Good luck tomorrow, Wade. I really do hope Jake does well.”

  His voice softened just a little. “Thanks, Lees. Take care of yourself, okay?”

  “You, too.”

  She disconnected without saying goodbye.

  Maybe the reason she kept doing that was because she wasn’t sure she could ever really say goodbye to Wade, she mused as she gazed somberly at the phone in her unsteady hand.

  STILL DISTRACTED BY THAT PHONE CALL, still trying to reason out exactly what Wade had meant by the things he had said and what they would say when they finally had that talk he’d mentioned, Lisa stepped off the elevator in her apartment building and turned toward her door. Often, she walked up the four flights of stairs to her apartment for the exercise, but tonight she was just too tired and too emotionally drained to expend the effort.