by Lacey Black
“He’s right. Lots of other drivers have families, and they make it work. You will too. I mean, look at Coop here. Two young kids and a wife at home. They travel when they can, and it’s pretty cool to have the littles with us.”
A handful of the guys are already nodding their heads. “I’ve got a wife at home too. We make it work,” Cookie adds. He’s my jack man. “Plus, coming home after a few days away,” he starts, whistling and grinning, “well, let’s just say that first hour home is usually a pretty intense one.”
Everyone laughs, including me, but then more images of coming home to Lena parade through my brain. “Thanks,” I tell him before turning and looking at the rest of the guys at the table. “Thanks, all of you. I’m probably going to need a slight adjustment period here, but I promise my head and my heart are where they should be.”
Coop finally speaks up from the head of the table. “Sometimes, your head and heart are pulled in two directions. Just try your best on both ends. That’s all we ask.”
I nod my agreement. Before we all dive back into the food, I add, “Just so you know, I’m not here Friday. I’m going to head to Fresno for Renee’s memorial service. I think it’s important for Oliver to go, you know?”
Coop just smiles from across the table. “You’re a good man, Cruz. We’ll see you Saturday morning for endurance training,” he adds with another sadistic smile. The guys all groan. Endurance training is running.
I hate to fucking run.
After we shovel the rest of our food into our faces, we clean up the trash and head to the shop. I fire off another text to Lena on the way, and when she replies they’re both getting ready for a nap, I can’t help but smile. I want to tell her to just crash in my bed, since it’s right next to the bassinet, but opt against it. It’s bad enough I now smell her everywhere I go in the house, but her scent on my pillow?
I’m not sure my suddenly booming libido can handle it.
Chapter Five
Lena
It’s been just over a week of adjustments, trials, small failures, and celebrations.
We attended Renee’s memorial service last Friday, which from my standpoint, was a bit awkward. Everyone was looking at me, wondering who I was. Honestly, I didn’t even want to go, but Mack insisted he felt better with me being there. Emily, Renee’s mom, introduced me as her grandson’s caretaker, and no one disputed it. It was weird, listening to stories about Renee, from her childhood friends to those she knew as an adult. The one thing most comments had in common was Oliver and how Renee couldn’t wait to be a mother.
After the service, we went to a luncheon sponsored by Emily’s church. I felt a little more comfortable, but still tried to keep to myself, taking Oliver and changing his diaper or feeding him, when needed. Mack was even more stressed than I was. Everyone assumed they had been together, as in a couple, before she passed. He never really disputed it, and I guess I understand why. I mean, who wants to hear the deceased had a few random hookups with her baby daddy and never told him about the child they created.
Oh, and another thing. The test results confirmed Mack as the dad, so he is officially Oliver’s sole parent.
There was no will for Renee. I imagine not many twenty-six-year-olds have them, so when it came down to it, Emily decided to sell everything she could and leave the money to Oliver. There won’t be much, but there is a little something left for him.
I also know Mack met with the funeral director before the service and paid the entire bill. Emily had arranged a payment plan to pay for the expenses, but Mack, being the true good-hearted man he is, couldn’t bear to see Emily pay for it. She has her own struggles with medical bills, and the last thing she needs to worry about is paying for her daughter’s memorial costs.
Before we left Fresno, Mack and Emily also made arrangements regarding Oliver. She’s the only grandparent the baby will have, and the last thing Mack wanted was to cut Emily from his life. She cried, of course, and thanked him for thinking of her. They vowed to get together for a visit during Mack’s next weekend break from racing.
All in all, it had been a good trip, and now, we’re preparing for another.
Race weekend.
It’s a beautiful sunny Friday afternoon as we head to the airport. The teams left yesterday morning to make the thirty-plus hour drive to Ohio. Mack and the other team driver usually fly out with Colton, using his private jet. Mack had a meeting with his team owner earlier in the week and told him about his concerns traveling with such a young baby. Colton invited Oliver and me to fly with them to any of the races, as his own family often goes on trips with him.
“I’ve been thinking,” Mack says, as he steers his truck toward the airport.
“About?” I ask through my yawn. It was another early morning for Mr. Oliver today, and I’m starting to feel it now.
“About the races that are closer. I think I want to lease a motorhome,” he says, as he turns into the lot for private flights. “There’s a handful, including one coming up in Portland and another in Long Beach. This way, we have our own place to stay with Oliver without having to go back to the hotel all the time.”
I feel a deep sadness sweep in, mostly because I’ve already checked the schedule. The Long Beach race is right after I’ve completed my six-week stay in California and will be home in Brenton. Someone else, another woman most likely, will be with them by that point, and that thought causes striking grief.
“You okay?” he asks, pulling into a parking spot.
“Yeah, fine,” I quickly reassure, pasting on a too-bright grin. He doesn’t seem to really buy it, but doesn’t call me out on my lie, either. “It would probably be a good investment,” I add, redirecting the conversation back on point.
“I think so too. I thought about asking the front office for a few suggestions for local companies. After Mid-Ohio is Portland, so I’d really like to have it by end of next week.” He turns off his truck and turns in the driver’s seat to face me. “Maybe we can check them out when we get back?”
“Sounds good,” I tell him, earning a smile in response. We just sit there for several seconds, gazing at each other. It feels comfortable, intimate even, but too soon the spell is broken.
“Well, we better get this truck unloaded and on board the plane. I bet Colton changes his mind about letting me bring Ollie along once he sees all the baby crap,” Mack says, as he slips out of his truck and heads to the back seat to unload. When he does, he misses my smile at the nickname he used when referring to his son. Ollie. I like it.
I hop out, ready to retrieve my own luggage, but find Mack already pulling it all out of the bed of the truck. Instead, I make myself useful and release the car seat holding a sleeping Oliver. “Let’s head over to the tarmac. I’ll come back for the rest of this stuff,” Mack says, walking toward the private jet with two bags in tow.
“Let me help you, sir,” the man beside the plane says.
Mack passes off the first two bags and says, “I have more. I’ll be back.”
“I’ll come with you, sir.”
Mack turns to me and points to the stairs. “Go ahead and take Oliver inside. I’ll be back as soon as we get loaded up.” And then he’s gone, leaving me standing beside a jet owned by one of IndyCar’s most famous race car drivers. Good times.
I glance up at the open door, wondering if I should just waltz in like I own the joint or wait until Mack gets back. I’m on the struggle bus right now with just walking aboard, but I’m not sure standing out here in the sun is the best bet for Oliver either.
“Are you joining us on this flight or just hanging back?”
I startle at the unfamiliar voice and whip around as quickly as I can, considering I’m holding a baby carrier. Standing right in front of me is the owner of the deep timbred voice. Colton Donavan.
He smiles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” When I just stare at him, he finally asks, “You’re Lena, right? I assume you are, considering,” he adds, nodding toward the carrie
r.
“Oh, yes,” I stammer, reaching my hand forward. “Lena Stanley.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Lena. I’m Colton, but I guess by the look on your face, you already knew that,” he laughs. Colton waves his hand toward the baby carrier. “Do you mind if I help carry him up the stairs?”
I’m a little surprised and grateful at his offer. “Oh, sure. That would be great, thanks.”
“After you.”
I glance toward the parking lot and can see Mack and the other gentleman heading this way, their hands laden with more bags and supplies for the baby. Knowing he won’t be far behind me, I proceed to the stairs and board the jet, Mack’s boss hot on my heels. I find two more gentlemen already seated and chatting, one I recognize as the other driver on Colton’s team.
I head to the back, away from the men in conversation, hoping to be out of the way. Both acknowledge me with a head nod, but keep their conversation going. Colton sets the carrier in the middle of the row of seats and gives me a warm smile. “There you go.”
“Thank you,” I stammer, still a little shocked to be talking to the Colton Donavan. He nods and is immediately pulled into the conversation with the other gentlemen on board, so I busy myself with securing Oliver’s carrier in the seat.
“Hey, did you meet everyone?” Mack asks, glancing at the group of guys not too far away on the opposite side of the plane as he sets the diaper bag down on the empty seat beside the carrier.
“Oh, I met Colton outside, but the other two were busy,” I tell him as a few more board.
“Come on,” he says, taking my hand and glancing down at the baby. “He’s sleeping so he should be fine for a few minutes.”
The warmth of his hand wrapped around mine sends tingles of awareness through my body. I should probably gently remove my hand from his grasp, but I don’t. Frankly, it feels too damn good. Familiar. Instead, I entwine my fingers with his and smile politely at the group.
“Hey, guys, good to see ya,” Mack greets. “This is my friend, Lena. Lena, this is Peter Abbott with the PR department and Cash Huntington. He drives the other car, and of course you know Colton.”
“And don’t forget us.” We turn to the entrance of the plane, and I find the most beautiful woman standing there, holding a little boy’s hand. I know instantly who she is. Rylee Donavan.
“And Rylee and Ace,” Mack says, smiling at the little boy who’s a fixture at the company, just like his dad.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rylee says, coming over and shaking my hand.
“Nice to meet you too,” I tell her, a little awestruck at seeing this family in the flesh, and not just on magazines, the internet, or television.
“If everyone will take their seats, we’re ready for takeoff,” the pilot announces over the speaker.
Just like that, everyone finds a seat within the small, yet roomy plane. I take the seat on the aisle so Mack can sit beside Oliver’s carrier, and buckle myself in. When Mack does the same, I realize my grave mistake. We’re sitting very close. Closer than we’ve sat since my arrival in Los Angeles. So close I can smell his soap and his aftershave.
Too close to not affect my sanity.
“You comfortable?”
I startle when Mack’s breath tickles my ear, his soft words like a ballad that serenades me somewhere else. “Yes,” I squeak, trying to sit up straight in the seat, giving him plenty of room.
As the plane taxies toward the runway, I glance around the cabin. The Donavans are sitting together, young Ace watching eagerly out the window, as the airport passes by. The others appear to be settling in for the flight. Cash has his eyes closed. The flight attendant takes her seat, while the captain relays that we’re clear for takeoff. The jet flies down the runway and launches into the sky. We’re airborne and heading toward Ohio in a matter of minutes.
“I can’t believe he’s still sleeping,” Mack says, gazing down at Oliver with a grin.
“They sleep a lot at this age. Or so I’ve read,” I reply, the corners of my mouth turning upward.
“You’re doing wonderful with him, Lean,” he tells me, reaching over and patting my hand. It’s a friendly gesture, except when he doesn’t take his hand from mine, it quickly turns from friendly to…more than friendly.
My heart is skipping around in my chest. That’s not a good thing, you know. The last thing I need is to get close to Mack Cruz again. You know, close. I’m leaving in a little over four weeks, and I can already tell that departure is going to suck donkey balls. That’s why it’s imperative I keep my distance.
Friends only.
With a small grin, I say, “Thanks.”
But I don’t move my hand.
I yawn again, my eyes growing heavy.
“Why don’t you get some rest? We have a few hours before we’re there. I’m probably going to head over to sit by Cash soon and talk strategy. We like to use this time to discuss different things we know about the race, the track, and the other teams.”
I glance over him to where Oliver continues to saw logs, his little mouth open in slumber. I’m totally jealous right now, thinking Mack’s offer to take a little nap is too good to pass up. “If you don’t mind,” I start.
“Of course not. It was an early morning for you too,” he reassures, squeezing my hand. “Take a nap.”
Mack relaxes in his seat and reaches over with his left index finger to gently stroke his son’s hand. Oliver actually sighs in contentment. The softest grin spreads across my lips as my eyes close. Mack’s so sweet and paternal, just the way I always suspected he’d be. Even if he wasn’t sure he’d have kids, I knew he’d be a good dad.
As I drift off to sleep, all I can think about is how he proved me right.
***
“Lena.” His husky timbre rouses me from a deep sleep. When I open my eyes, it’s his chocolate ones I’m gazing into, and I’ll be honest, my heart does this grand pirouette in my chest. “We’re about to land.”
I realize I’m sort of draped over the armrest, my head using his very muscular arm as a pillow. It’s a rather unusually hard place to rest my head, but that didn’t stop me from invading his personal space and using him for my own personal enjoyment.
Wait. That came out wrong.
I clear my throat, my eyes dropping to his chest. Oliver is there, wide awake and trying to eat his fist. “Hey,” I coo, reaching over and stroking his cheek.
“Little man here woke up pissed at the world. A quick diaper change and some steak and eggs in a bottle took care of that. He dozed for a few minutes while I burped him, but he’s been wide awake for about twenty minutes or so.”
Stretching and glancing around, I try to forget about the way his strong arm felt against my cheek. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear him.”
“Me either, honestly. He was not very happy until I got him changed and out of his carrier. He’s been content as hell just hanging out here on my chest,” Mack says, glancing down and smiling. “I’m gonna piss him off again, though. We’re getting ready to land, so I’m gonna have to put him in his seat.”
Mack moves Oliver from his chest to the carrier seat, carefully and slowly. Even though it hasn’t been two weeks since the baby came to live with his father, Mack definitely appears more at ease with handling the child. It shows with how quickly he gets him into position within the seat and the harness secured and tightened.
Over the next few minutes, we land in Ohio and taxi to our gate. An attendant meets us at the door to help us disembark and collect our belongings. I feel guilty with the quantity of bags we brought, especially when most of it belongs to the baby, but Mack and I wanted to be prepared for anything. This is our first outing with a one-month-old, and while we may have overpacked, it all felt necessary at the time.
We’re loaded up into two awaiting SUVs. Mack, Oliver, and I pile into the second vehicle, along with the suit from the head office. We follow behind the other car and are taken to a hotel next to the racetrack. I’ve never
been to Mid-Ohio, so I’m eager to take in everything around me. I’m actually itching to pull out my camera. There are people loitering the sidewalks, and the sun is peeking over the buildings, casting shadows on the street. The natural light is absolutely perfect right now.
“You coming with us?” Mack says, standing beside his open door, a grin spreading across his face.
A quick look around shows we’ve already parked in front of the hotel, everyone else already filed out. “Oh.” I reach for my handle and step outside. The summer air is warm, but not too bad. It’s actually great racing weather.
“Let me guess, taking photos in your mind?” Mack asks, as he releases the carrier from the seat belt and stretches the sun visor over Oliver’s head.
“Guilty,” I reply, ducking my head as my cheeks turn pink. I don’t know why I’m suddenly blushing, but I am. Maybe it’s because he just reminded me how well he once knew me—or still knows me, apparently.
“Maybe later we can take a walk around and you can snap a few pictures,” he offers, grabbing the diaper bag and shutting the vehicle door. “Come on, let’s get inside.”
“Do you want me to grab anything?” I ask, making sure I have my small carry-on with my camera.
“No, valet will bring it up to our room,” he tells me, leading the way into the hotel. I spy Colton and the suit heading our way from the front counter, the hotel clerk clearly very happy she just took care of the Colton Donavan. In fact, she’s already got her cell phone out and snatching a photo of his backside, completely oblivious to his wife and son standing right there by him.
“You’re in twelve ten,” Colton says, handing a keycard to Mack.
“Thanks,” he replies as the boss hands out the rest of the cards and then leads us all to the bank of elevators.
We all get off on the same floor and head to our respective rooms. I follow behind Mack and stop when we get to the door. He turns to me, a look of concern on his gorgeous face. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told Colton we’d be fine sharing a room. I didn’t want him to have to pay for two. If you don’t feel comfortable sharing, I’ll get you a room, no problem,” he rushes to say.