A NASCAR Holiday 2: Miracle SeasonSeason of DreamsTaking ControlThe Natural

by Pamela Britton

  “When do you leave?”

  “We’re scheduled to take off at ten.”

  That was two hours from now. “So you’re going to need to leave pretty soon?”

  “Yup,” he said, pulling back the covers and getting out of bed.

  She looked away. It was ridiculous. Last night she’d felt every inch of him with her hands, but this morning she couldn’t look him in the eye as he walked toward her tiny bathroom.

  “Did you, ah… Did you want me to drop you off?” she called after him.

  Had that sounded too needy? she wondered.

  “No,” he said. “No, thanks. I’ll have to take my rental car back beforehand.”

  Right then his watch began to beep, no doubt an alarm he’d set the night before to remind him he had to leave. She scooted across the sheets, picked the thing up.

  Rolex.

  Of course it was a Rolex. She could feed herself and Brooke for a year just from the money she’d get pawning it. She wasn’t quite sure how to turn the alarm off, but pushing in the wind-up dial seemed to do the trick. She set the watch back down, darting off the bed and opening her closet door. Another stupid thing. He’d seen every inch of her the night before and yet here she was, totally self-conscious. She was tugging her robe closed when he returned.

  “So, ah…” Damn it. She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t been with a man for so long, she’d forgotten the protocol. Was she supposed to offer to call him sometime? Did she ask for his phone number? Did she do anything other than kiss him goodbye and say thanks for the good time?

  She sat down on the end of her bed, watching him get dressed.

  “You look so sad,” he said, coming around in front of her and tipping her face up.

  She shrugged, offered a plaintive, “You’re leaving.”

  “We’ll see each other again.”

  When? How? He lived clear across the country. “I know,” she said.

  “I’ll call you when I get back to North Carolina,” he said, sitting down next to her.

  She nodded, looked away.

  “Maggie,” he said, turning her chin to him. “Last night was amazing.”

  Had it been? Or was he just saying that?

  “I realize we barely know each other, but this was more than a one-night stand.”

  “Oh” was all she said, because to be honest, that’s exactly what she’d been thinking. He might not be driving race cars anymore, but he was still famous. She had only to recall the look on people’s faces last night to be reminded of that.

  “I promise. I’ll call you.”

  “You’d better,” she said, smiling to take the sting out of the words.

  “I will.”

  And that was that. He bent down, pulled on his shoes, stood up, straightened his shirt, then bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

  “See you soon.”

  A few moments later she heard his car start up, the Mustang coming to life with a distinctive roar. She stood up, too, ran into her tiny little family room and climbed atop the battered sofa bed that sat beneath the window. She parted the curtains, but not so much that he could see her. The last thing she needed was for him to spot her staring after him like some moonstruck child.

  He pulled away without a backward glance.

  She turned, sinking onto the cushions. So now the waiting began.

  But the truth of the matter was, if he didn’t call, she’d feel like biggest fool on earth for falling under his spell.

  HE REALLY DID CALL, and Maggie felt her insides sting in shame that she’d doubted his sincerity.

  “Looks like our next meeting isn’t until the week after Thanksgiving,” he said. Maggie realized in an instant how much she’d been hoping he wouldn’t let her down. Her eyes closed in relief at the sound of his voice.

  “I know,” she said. She’d checked the schedule first thing after going into work that Monday morning. They’d be meeting on the thirtieth, at the hotel where they’d be having the fund-raiser.

  “Doesn’t look like I’ll be able to hang out there for more than a few hours,” he said, and she could hear the disappointment in his voice.

  She settled back on her couch. Brooke was in her room, but she peeked her head out, Maggie shooing her away. Maggie could tell by the look on her daughter’s face that she knew who it was.

  Way to go, Mom, she silently mouthed.

  Go away, she motioned again.

  “What do you mean?” she asked Mike once Brooke’s door had closed.

  “Looks like I have a charity event to attend that night. I’ll fly in for the meeting, then fly back out.”

  “That’s a lot to go through just for a meeting.”

  “Happens all the time,” she heard him say, his Southern drawl making her think of soft kisses and the prickly feel of his chin against her…

  Maggie!

  “I feel like I’m constantly flying somewhere,” he added.

  She felt as if she were flying, too, but for an altogether different reason.

  Careful, Mags. It’s too soon for you to be thinking the L word.

  “So what does that mean?” she asked.

  “We’ll only have three, maybe four hours together.”

  Plenty of time for a repeat performance of the other night.

  Maggie! she yelled at herself, more sternly. Maybe he didn’t want to do that. Maybe this was just an excuse he handed her to avoid spending time with her.

  And maybe you should stop being such a pessimist.

  But she couldn’t help herself. Too many times she’d been down this road. It was one of the reasons she’d sworn off men altogether. Once they got what they wanted, they rarely stuck around. And if it wasn’t that, it was Brooke. Men were scared of ready-made families, and Maggie was frightened of her and Brooke getting hurt. Again.

  “We’ll have to do our best to make the most of those hours,” he said, the suggestive lilt in his voice hard to miss.

  That made her feel better. “I suppose we will,” she said back, just as suggestively. She looked up and found Brooke peering out the door again.

  “Go back in your room,” she whispered.

  “I would,” Mike said, “if you were here with me.”

  Maggie blushed, but she was feeling better and better by the moment. “Sorry,” she said. “My daughter is making a pest of herself.”

  “How old is Brooke?”

  They spent the rest of their time on the phone filling in background information about each other. She learned that Mike was an only child, and that both his parents had passed on. She told Mike about Brooke, and how—most of the time, anyway—she was proud of her daughter. Brooke was at the top of her class, and never once had Maggie heard her complain about the lack of a father. The lack of any family, really, because like Mike, Maggie didn’t have parents to run home to.

  When it was time to hang up, Maggie wasn’t certain what depressed her more—the fact that she wouldn’t see Mike again for two more weeks, or that with him living on another coast the odds of their relationship working out were slim to nil.

  Just take it one day at a time.

  And that’s what she planned to do.

  THE DAY OF THE MEETING she was nervous. It was chilly, the warmth of a few weeks ago having faded away thanks to numerous cold fronts streaming down from Alaska. And while it rarely, very rarely, snowed in the Bay Area, it sure felt as if it would today. Her black silk suit might look chic and elegant, but it seemed to absorb the cold air rather than repel it.

  The meeting was at the Hotel De Anza, where they’d be holding the fund-raiser. On her way over, Maggie noticed that now Thanksgiving was over, all San Jose seemed to be in the Christmas spirit. Lampposts held bright red bows. Giant wreaths hung off the front of the hotel. She even heard Christmas music when she walked inside the Spanish-style interior.

  Mike had told her he’d be arriving around eight and, barring any unforeseen delays, he’d get there right at nine; that was ten minutes fro
m now. She’d tried to get him to come early—had felt vague disappointment that he hadn’t—but he took his job with the Helping Hands Foundation seriously. Apparently they kept him pretty busy coordinating drivers’ appearances on behalf of the foundation, not to mention helping to organize events such as the one they were currently working on.

  “Hey, Maggie,” called one of her fellow Miracles workers as she walked across the gaily decorated lobby. Terry was a director for one of the other offices and she’d come dressed rather festively—a bright red suit that nearly matched her bright red lipstick.

  “Hi, Terry,” Maggie said, shifting the briefcase she held to the other hand.

  “You ready for the big day?” the brunette asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Maggie said, swiping a lock of her loose hair away from her face and taking a moment to admire the beautifully decorated lobby. The hotel’s staff had strung Christmas lights in every available plant, and there were many—the kind of lights that blinked on and off and helped put people into the festive spirit. Christmas was still a few weeks away, their fund-raiser less than three, and if she were honest with herself, she knew she really shouldn’t be taking the afternoon off. But that’s exactly what she planned to do—spend a few hours with Mike.

  They found the conference room that had been reserved for Miracles. Since the fund-raiser was a joint effort, there were representatives from around Northern California sitting along the edge of the massive oak table. The overhead fluorescents reflected on the polished surface, and the window blinds were open so they could see outside. They had a perfect view of city traffic.

  Where was Mike?

  When the meeting got started and nearly fifteen minutes went by and he still wasn’t there, she started to get worried. She was so on edge that she nearly jumped out of her seat when the door opened.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Mike said, scanning the table until their eyes connected.

  “That’s okay,” someone said.

  Maggie would never know who’d spoken. All she knew was that the moment he walked in her heart had leaped like a person startled from sleep.

  You’ve got it bad, kiddo.

  In his black suit with a white dress shirt beneath he looked a far cry from the man who’d come knocking at her door. More powerful. More handsome. More masculine.

  And she’d slept with him.

  It took all her effort to focus her attention on the task at hand, but when it came Mike’s turn to talk, her gaze locked on his lips.

  The lips that had kissed her.

  “We’ve got five drivers confirmed to attend the event,” he was saying, “one of them last year’s champion.”

  And that mouth had nibbled on her ear.

  “The media interest is high. A few of the major sports networks will be there, broadcasting live. The night of the event, I’ll be answering questions on Helping Hands’ behalf.

  “We’ve approved the giveaway items. The foundation wants to go with the luggage tag. We’ll want our logo on the front as well as Miracles’.”

  The rest of what he said faded away. Maggie hoped someone was taking better notes than she was. Somehow she had managed to pull it together before the meeting ended, but every time she caught Mike’s gaze her cheeks burned.

  This was a man whose interest she hoped to keep? A man whose dark hair and sexy green eyes drew the gaze of every female in the room?

  She wanted to dash away, but couldn’t. She heard the meeting wrap up. Hung around for a minute or two waiting for him, but he was busy talking to one of Miracles’ VIPs. She turned, not wanting to be seen loitering and waiting around for him. People might find that odd, so she made her way toward the front of the hotel. He caught up with her shortly after.

  “Hey, wait up,” he said, his footsteps echoing on the hotel’s marble floor, a briefcase she hadn’t even noticed he’d been carrying swinging alongside him. “Where the heck are you going in such a hurry?”

  “Nowhere,” she said. “I, ah, I just need some fresh air.”

  “Well, good,” he said. “After my long flight here, I do, too. You don’t mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not.” Why would he ask that? Oh, Lord, maybe he didn’t want to spend time with her.

  Don’t be silly, Maggie.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said, shifting the case to his other hand. He tried to hug her, but she stepped back, mindful of the fact that some of her coworkers might be milling about.

  “It’s good to see you, too.”

  He seemed to understand her hesitation, even glanced around as if looking for people from the meeting. “Let’s put our stuff in my rental car.”

  His vehicle was parked outside—another Mustang. The valet kindly opened the door for them.

  “Where do you want to walk?” he asked.

  She thought quickly. Truthfully, she really didn’t know, just needed cool air against her face. It might be gray and overcast, but she needed to breathe.

  “There’s a Christmas display in a nearby park. We could go there.”

  “Sounds good.”

  But she felt just as awkward when, after their short walk, they arrived at what Brooke used to call “winter wonderland.” This was no ordinary Christmas display. Behind a knee-high picket fence, people had set up numerous nativity scenes. But it wasn’t just Mary and Joseph. There were life-size camels. Numerous giant Christmas boxes painted in bright colors and decorated with shiny bows, and Maggie’s favorites—the miniature houses that were like movie sets, the walls cut open so you could see inside the house where fake fires roared and Christmas trees glistened with lights.

  “This is stunning,” he said.

  She nodded. “Brooke and I come here every year.”

  They walked in silence for a bit, past a giant Christmas tree that would do the one in Rockefeller Plaza proud, through a tiny forest decorated with fake snow, stopping by a life-size toy train, the caboose carrying Christmas presents.

  “Maggie,” he said. “What’s wrong?” He stopped her, took her hand, turned her to him.

  “Nothing,” she lied.

  “Come here,” he said gently, pulling her to him.

  She didn’t want to go, she really didn’t. Wasn’t it better to let things cool off between them? Sure, they’d had some great conversations on the phone in recent days, but that didn’t mean they were anything approaching boyfriend and girlfriend or, Lord help her, lovers.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  You could have come into town earlier, she thought. But she didn’t say that. If she’d spoken the words aloud they’d have revealed the Mount Everest of insecurity that was clogging her throat and filling her eyes with…

  Tears?

  Oh, Lord, she wasn’t really crying, was she? That just wouldn’t do, she told herself, inhaling deeply.

  But he saw them. “You’re crying,” he said, drawing back to look into her eyes.

  “No, I’m not,” she lied. “I’m just—” she searched for an appropriate excuse “—cold.”

  “I know a way to warm you up.”

  “But you have to leave in a couple hours.”

  “So? That’s a couple hours we could spend together. Warm,” he said, pulling her to him again. “In bed.”

  She closed her eyes, allowed herself to believe for just a moment that they could surmount all the obstacles in their way. His job. Her living in California. Her own damn fears.

  “I’d love to do that. I really would.”

  He drew back again. “But,” he prompted, green eyes narrowing.

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” She licked suddenly dry lips, her face heating when she watched his eyes follow her tongue’s progress. “Last time, it all happened so fast. Maybe we should slow down. Take it a little easier.”

  She expected to see disappointment on his face, maybe even some anger. Instead all she saw was amusement.

  “What?” she asked, taken aback by the glint in his gr
een eyes.

  “Usually it’s me telling women to slow down.”

  “Really?” That made her feel better. Or did it? Exactly how many women had there been?

  “Really,” he echoed. He grabbed her hand, turning her toward the park. “So trust me when I tell you that it’s a nice change to meet a woman who just wants to get to know me better.”

  She almost pointed out that she already knew him. Intimately. But she didn’t. Instead she walked.

  They talked, and as they did, Maggie forgot her earlier fears. They discussed the women he’d dated in the past—she knew the names of a few of them—but he professed none of them serious. She told him about Brooke’s father and how he shirked his parental duty. He told her that he’d always hoped to one day have kids.

  And in the end they went back to his hotel room, where they made love in the brief amount of time left to them. When it came time for Mike to leave, Maggie felt like crying all over again. But she didn’t. This was the way it would be for them, she realized. A hurried date here, some time spent together there. And where it would lead she had no idea.

  “I’ll call when I get back to North Carolina.”

  She nodded, resisting the urge to say she’d heard that before. “Have a safe trip home,” she said.

  He kissed her on the cheeks. And that was it. He was gone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MIKE MEANT TO CALL MAGGIE the moment he got back. He really did. But time got away from him and it wasn’t until the next day that he phoned her. Maggie would soon realize that life was sometimes crazy for him. Between starting up his own race team and working for the Helping Hands Foundation, his life was hectic.

  “Hey, there,” she said the moment she recognized his voice.

  “Hi,” he said softly, his spirits lifting when he heard her voice. “How’s it going?”

  “Good,” she said.

  There was a pause on the phone and Mike wondered what to say. She beat him to it.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you, did that driver we went to see get a call from your friend?”

  “Yup,” he said. “The kid’s going to a speedway in Nashville for a test.”

  “Wow. That’s wonderful. Do you think your friend will hire him?”