by Abby Gaines
“It’s a risk,” he agreed.
“If you miss out on both the Chase and the bachelor contest, Getaway will feel they have nowhere to go with this sponsorship.” He stiffened, but she continued, “They’ll pull their money, your season will be over. And with it, the ongoing relationship that being part of the team gives you with your family.”
She tugged her blouse to straighten it where it had twisted during the kiss. “The bachelor contest is the safest bet. Getaway has a lot of faith in you—they’re planning a huge ad campaign around you being Bachelor of the Year.”
“Because they assume I won’t make the Chase,” he said, unimpressed. “Gaby, please, stand by me on this, ask Getaway to release me from the bachelor contest this weekend.”
When he looked at her with that compelling combination of heat and hope in his eyes, she wanted more than anything to ease the tense lines around his mouth, take him in her arms, tell him she loved him. She’d do anything for him.
Gaby wondered if she could talk to Getaway, convince them Zack’s best shot was to focus on the race, and that the bachelor events risked derailing him. Instead of sending him to the events at Richmond, Motor Media could maybe release a prerecorded interview with Zack this week, outside of the official events, but one that would get plenty of coverage and would convince women to vote for him in the contest….
“I don’t know,” she hedged, fretting.
Zack took her hands. “Gaby…I love you.”
It took a second for the words to penetrate her anxiety. Her head snapped up. “What?”
“You heard me.” He squeezed her fingers.
“You love me?”
“I—yeah. Seems that way.” He sounded dazed.
She laughed, delight filtering through the tension, dissolving it. Zack’s smile in response was gorgeously slow and sexy.
“So…do you love me, too?” he asked.
Something in his inflection, some air of expectancy, triggered a painful memory. If she answered yes, would Zack’s next sentence start with then? As in, Then you’ll help me get out of the bachelor events at Richmond, right?
Her chest constricted. Her fiancé had considered “I love you” to be a negotiating tool, and he’d said it with the same anticipatory tone.
“When did you realize you loved me?” she asked Zack, her voice a little sharp.
He pulled away. “Just now, I guess. I knew I cared for you, but I didn’t realize how much.”
“You’ve been mad at me, too mad to talk to me, and now you love me?”
“I apologized for that,” he said, confused.
“And now that you want me to get you out of the bachelor events, you’ve decided you love me.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t be stupid,” he said.
Oh, yeah, that was how a man spoke to the woman he loved, all right.
Gaby couldn’t believe it. Once again, a man had asked her to risk her career, her ambitions, because he loved her. What was the bet that if she convinced Getaway to lighten up, and then Zack didn’t make the Chase, that Gaby would miss out on her promotion? She could even lose her job, when it came out that she’d acted in Zack’s interest rather than Getaway’s.
She felt sick. And, to use Zack’s word, stupid.
“What’s stupid,” she said, “is that you think I should risk my entire career because you don’t want to attend a party and do an interview.”
His face darkened. “Whereas you think I should risk my entire career just to go to that party and take part in that interview.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I love you, dammit. And if you love me, you’ll take my side in this.”
Bingo.
If Zack really did love her, she’d be the happiest woman on the planet. Not feeling as if he was holding a prize just out of her reach, waiting for her to prove her worthiness.
“Then I don’t love you,” she lied.
Zack paled. She wanted to snatch the words back, she knew how keenly he felt rejection. But if his love wasn’t genuine, and she knew it wasn’t, even if he didn’t, the pain would be short-lived.
“I guess we both know where we stand then,” he said quietly.
See, he didn’t even argue. Didn’t try to convince her. He just left.
“TO RICHMOND.” GRIMLY cheerful, Zack lifted his beer bottle in a toast.
Chad and Trent clinked their bottles against his. It was eleven o’clock on Tuesday night and they were alone at Matheson Racing. The race cars were ready to be hauled to Richmond tomorrow morning; the drivers and Chad would fly up in the afternoon.
“To the Chase,” Trent said. More clinking.
It was all very well for Trent to toast the Chase, Zack thought. His younger brother had an excellent shot at making it, and he oozed the confidence of a man who intended to capitalize on his opportunities.
“To the Bachelor of the Year,” Chad said, obviously wanting to offer something Zack had a good shot at. Zack decided to appreciate the gesture, rather than take it as an insult to his driving. Hell, he knew he’d only been invited to have a drink with the guys because Chad felt bad about Gaby and the whole family PR program thing.
Gaby. Her name made his gut ache. He’d told her he loved her, and she’d thrown it right back at him. Yeah, well, he was working at getting over the love thing. Hadn’t he always sworn not to love a woman who couldn’t put him first? Put their relationship first, he amended.
“You’re quiet tonight, Zack.” Chad grinned. “I mean, even quieter than usual. Worried about the race?”
“He has girl trouble,” Trent speculated.
That was the annoying thing about Trent. Despite his self-centeredness, he was uncannily in tune with other people. Zack thought about denying it, given that both his brothers were blissfully married. But, hell, there was enough competition between them without getting caught up in that one. He lifted one shoulder. “Looks like Gaby and I are finished.”
Chad eyed him closely. “Sorry to hear that.”
“No, you’re not,” Zack said. “You were mad at her.”
Chad laughed. He’d laughed so much since he and Brianna had gotten back together, sometimes he seemed like a different person. “Okay, I thought she was way out of line…you know, that day.”
Zack realized from his brother’s obscure words that Chad hadn’t told Trent about the PR stunt Zack and Gaby had pulled on the family. The thought warmed him. He couldn’t remember another occasion when he’d been privy to something Trent hadn’t. Not since they were kids, when Zack and Chad had kept secrets from their annoying little brother.
“Thing is about Gaby—” Chad’s voice saying her name startled Zack “—she’s a real tiger about defending you.”
Zack folded his arms. “Sometimes, yeah.”
“Are you kidding? Don’t you remember the way she laid into me and Dad?” Chad glanced at the curious Trent, obviously not wanting to elaborate.
She had laid into his father and Chad…but today, she’d refused to help him, and when she’d said she didn’t love him, Zack had felt as if the sky had fallen down on him. He drained his beer, suddenly exhausted. “I’d better get going.”
Chad eyed him critically. “Yeah, you need your beauty sleep if you’re going to win that bachelor contest.”
Zack forced a smile. No point mentioning he had no intention of attending the bachelor events. Richmond had to be all about the race.
“Time I left, too,” Trent said, surprising Zack. Trent was a night owl, he seldom went to bed before midnight, and stayed up until two the night before a race.
They walked out to the near-empty parking lot. Trent had his hands in his pockets, his head down, unusually contemplative. Maybe he was nervous about the race, too.
When they reached Zack’s truck, Zack drew a breath and said, “In case I don’t get the chance to say it again—” or, more likely, in case he couldn’t bring himself to say it again “—good luck making the Chase.”
Trent’s head jerked up in sur
prise, and Zack felt a twinge of shame.
“I’m sorry about you and Gaby,” Trent said. “She’s a great gal, and you deserve someone great.”
Zack blinked—where did that come from? “These things happen,” he said awkwardly.
“Not easy, though.” Trent punched him sympathetically on the arm. “Gaby was good for you. Heck, you even seem like a nice guy when you’re with her.”
That was more the kind of taunt Zack was used to, but this time there was no sting with it. He smiled. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so mellow toward his brother. “Gaby was good for me, but maybe not in the way you think.” He found himself telling Trent about the “family PR campaign,” about how calculated his good mood had been and how it had backfired.
“Man, I’d have loved to see Dad’s face when he heard that one.” Trent chuckled.
“Funnily enough, it’s not one of my better memories.” But Zack was smiling, too. “Anyway, I’m sorry I faked nice.”
“Hey, you weren’t that nice,” Trent scoffed. Then he sobered. “You know, just because you were consciously working on the relationship, that doesn’t mean you were faking it.”
“How do you mean?”
Trent shrugged. “It’s like me with my prerace routine. Just because Kelly spent a lot of time figuring out what worked and now that’s what I do each week…yeah, it’s contrived in that it’s intentional, but it’s still real. It’s still me. It’s just finding the part of me that works, and going with that, instead of all the other parts of me that get in the way of my racing.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Zack said.
“I might not have done as well as you in school, but I’m not a total airhead.”
Zack laughed, recalling that Trent and Kelly had met after she’d called him an airhead on national television. “Thanks, Trent,” he said, his heart lighter than it had been since he’d fought with Gaby.
Which might have been a mistake, but he’d think about that after Richmond. This weekend, the race came first.
Zack opened the door of his truck.
“I have a confession to make, too,” Trent said.
“What’s that?”
Trent’s gaze slid away. “That crash, four years ago…”
Zack froze. Around them, the night air turned suddenly chill, as if they’d been sucked into a refrigerator.
“Leave it, Trent.” Zack didn’t want to dwell on the past, not now.
Trent shook his head—he’d never taken orders from Zack before, why would he start now? “I always told you there was no way I could have avoided the crash,” he said.
Zack heard the words in slo-mo, had a horrible feeling he knew exactly what was coming next. Every instinct screamed at him to stop his brother…and yet, it was like watching a car slide across the race track after it had hit the wall. Wanting to yell at the driver to do something, but knowing bigger forces were at work, that stopping it was beyond the realm of one man’s powers.
“I lied,” Trent said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE WORDS HUNG THERE—stark, shocking, betrayal.
Zack took a step backward, bumped against his truck. “You knocked me out on purpose?”
The shake of Trent’s head came as a relief. Because if Trent had crashed into him deliberately, the last eight months of effort had been pointless—there was no hope they could ever be part of the same family.
“But I didn’t go out of my way to avoid you,” Trent confessed.
Zack’s mouth dried; his words came out chalky. “Meaning what?”
“I could have steered around you.” Trent swallowed. “There was time.” No one was a better judge than Trent of the finer nuances of an opportunity to pass. “But there was a chance—a good chance—I’d have scraped Justin Murphy.”
“Scraped.” Zack tried to make sense of it.
“Scraped, nudged, bumped.” The wave of Trent’s hand indicated impatience with semantics. “Probably not a big scrape. I was pretty sure I could get away with it…but not a hundred percent.”
“You didn’t want to risk Murphy retaliating,” Zack said.
“You know what he’s like when something gets his dander up.” The old-fashioned word was one of Brady’s favorites—the thought of his father and the rift between them, which had been made worse by the events of the day they were talking about, made Zack’s chest ache. Trent said, “I didn’t want Murphy coming after me and putting me out of the race.”
Four years ago, that might well have happened, Zack conceded. Justin Murphy was a more mature, settled driver now, and so was Trent. But back then, they’d all had something to prove.
“So you had a choice,” he said. “Scrape Murphy, then spend the rest of the race watching your back, or put me into the wall and get clear ahead.”
Trent looked as if he wanted to deny that the choice had been that bald, that selfish. But he said, “Yeah.”
“And you knew that putting me into the wall would likely mean I couldn’t make the Chase.” Because let’s be quite clear about the consequences of that decision. Zack almost hoped his brother would deny it…though Trent was plenty smart enough to have figured it all out.
“Yeah,” Trent said.
Zack felt as if someone had his heart in their fist and was twisting, squeezing. Back then, bitterly disappointed, he’d accused Trent of deliberately sacrificing him. Deep down, he hadn’t believed it. Hadn’t believed his own brother could do that.
Now…he didn’t know what to think. A mishmash of emotions pummeled him. Anger, betrayal, relief that the past four years of strain hadn’t been entirely his fault.
“Why are you telling me this now?” he demanded. “Are you trying to mess with my head, psych me out for Richmond?”
“No!” Trent recoiled. “I wanted to tell you you’re a great driver. That you have every chance of making the Chase—that getting knocked out four years ago wasn’t your fault. I don’t want that hanging over you.” He tipped his head back, so he was gazing at the sky. “I was so relieved when you said you were coming back, I thought we could put the past behind us. But it’s not that simple, is it?”
Zack shook his head.
“That’s why I told you. I hope, when you get over the shock, it’ll help.”
Was Trent crazy? How could it help to know his own brother had betrayed him?
“Zack.” Trent’s voice deepened. “I’m sorry.” He opened his mouth as if to say more, then he shut up.
Zack appreciated that. No excuses, no explanations.
Trent turned and walked away toward his fancy sports car.
Zack sank into the driver’s seat of the truck, his mind reeling. Trent had hit him, pretty much deliberately…Zack’s anger hadn’t been unjustified…the choice had come down to him or Trent, and Trent had—
It was too much to handle right now. Maybe he could go see Gaby.
No. Zack hunched his shoulders. Gaby had made it clear where she stood, and it was no longer with him.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you can’t find Zack?” Sandra looked so mad, Gaby wondered if it was possible to induce early labor by gnashing your teeth.
Gaby glanced out the window of the Matheson Racing hospitality suite. He’s somewhere out there. Her stomach roiled. Despite everything, she’d clung to the hope that Zack would turn up to this morning’s sponsor briefing, then to the bachelor events scheduled for tonight and tomorrow morning. That he’d meant what he said about loving her, and he would want to be here for her.
Nuh-uh. It was just Gaby, Sandra and two very unhappy clients.
“I guess he had something important to do for the race.” Gaby at least wanted to remind them there was a bigger picture here.
“I want to give him this for tonight.” Rob Hudson held up a dress shirt with the Getaway Resorts logo on it. “We had it made specially.”
She had to give them the bad news. “I’m afraid Zack feels his racing—and your sponsorship—is best served by him focusing on the
race. He won’t be at the bachelor party and there won’t be any Olivia Winton interview.” She’d called Winton’s staff to cancel.
Rob Hudson slammed his hand down on the table. “We’re paying him to attend those events. He doesn’t get to pull out whenever the fancy takes him, not if he wants to keep our money.”
“This is totally unacceptable—you need to find your client,” Sandra told her, distancing herself from Gaby—normally it was our client. She folded her arms over her stomach. “If you want that promotion, Gaby, you will find Zack, and you will get him to the party and the Olivia Winton interview, and he’ll be on his best behavior.”
“Tell him if he doesn’t show up, he won’t have a sponsor,” Hudson said.
He didn’t sound as if he was bluffing. Images flitted through Gaby’s head. Her promotion, gone. Maybe even her job. And with it, her hope for independence.
She nodded wordlessly, gathered her papers and headed outside.
She had to find Zack. When she did, she would tear a strip off him and if necessary, drug him and drag him to that interview tomorrow.
She headed for the motor home park, but the guard wouldn’t let her in without Zack’s authorization. She called his cell; no answer. She tried Trent, and luckily he was in his motor home. He came out to escort Gaby into the lot.
“I need to find Zack,” she said. “He didn’t show up at the sponsor briefing—I need to convince him to come to the bachelor events.”
Was it her imagination, or did Trent look shifty?
“Getaway said they’ll pull out if he doesn’t turn up.” It was risky, telling Trent that, but she was desperate.
Trent swore. “He was in his motor home earlier. Maybe he’s just not answering his phone.”
At Zack’s motor home, Gaby knocked on the door.
“Do it like this,” Trent said. He pounded on the door with his fist and yelled, “Zack, you chicken-livered son of a gun, open up!”