by Abby Gaines
Although the exhibition race didn’t count toward the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series points, the fans were just as excited, and the roar that went up from the crowd when the green flag dropped was deafening, even from here.
Trent and Zack started seventh and eighth. Trent passed the car in front of him, Kent Grosso’s blue-and-white No. 414, almost immediately, which had Chad beaming. He made a comment into his headset, then switched to monitor Zack’s communications with his crew chief.
Zack took a little longer, but he passed Grosso, as well, by which time Trent was running fourth. Brianna willed Zack to find the passing opportunities he needed. Garrett Clark had qualified for the pole in this race and was still out in front.
Every meeting she’d had this week, every encounter with Garrett Clark, had suggested FastMax was the team to sponsor. She almost wished he’d crash, put a dent in his perfection.
At the end of the first segment, Garrett was running second, having fallen behind Trey Sanford. Trent was running third…and Zack had slid back to fifteenth.
“It’s his first race in four years,” Chad reminded Brianna as they watched the over-the-wall guys make adjustments to the car.
“I know.”
He looked closely at her. “Is his result today going to make or break it for you?”
She shook her head. “No, but a good result would be a big help,” she said honestly.
She hated the hurt look that came into his eyes, as if he expected some kind of loyalty from her. “Chad, I just…”
“You just want to get this right for your father,” he said.
She nodded. “I have to.” To her surprise, he took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers. He didn’t say anything else, but returned his attention to the race.
In the second segment Zack slid farther down, to twenty-second place. Which wasn’t great, considering there were fewer cars here than in a NASCAR Sprint Cup Series race. Brianna found herself praying for him; she suspected Chad was doing the same. Brady, over on Trent’s pit box, didn’t look as happy as he should, given Trent was alternating between second and third.
On lap thirty of the second segment, it happened. Justin Murphy, driving the No. 448 car in the semireckless style everyone thought he’d grown out of, attempted a slingshot maneuver. He misjudged and clipped the rear of Zack’s car. Zack spun across the track, taking Justin with him. The two cars crashed, parted, then crashed again, this time with a crunch. Locked together, they slid onto the infield.
Both drivers immediately lowered their window nets and raised a hand to show they were okay. But it was clear both cars were out of the race.
Chad cursed, probably thinking of his dad’s money as much as his brother’s career prospects.
“Could Zack have avoided that?” Brianna asked, fairly certain of the answer.
Tight-lipped, Chad said, “He could have and he should have.”
She’d thought as much. Justin Murphy might have started it by attempting a pass he had little hope of pulling off, but Zack’s lack of skill or judgment had put himself and Justin out of the race.
Trent finished third, which had the team elated, but that wasn’t relevant to Brianna’s task. By then, Zack’s team had already packed up and left the track. Because of Daytona’s Speedweeks, most of them would remain between this race and the big race next Sunday.
The longer race would cost Brady considerably more to run. Brianna put that out of her mind.
As they watched Trent giving media interviews with his usual aplomb, Chad’s cell phone rang. He stepped away from the throng to take the call. Brianna saw his brow furrow. He walked a few steps farther, talking vehemently.
The call lasted maybe three minutes. After it ended, Chad looked at his phone in disgust, then stuck it in his pocket.
Brianna joined him. “Something wrong?”
“No, I…” He stopped, closed his eyes. When he opened them again, there was something in his face Brianna hadn’t seen before. A new kind of determination, one he seemed uncomfortable with. “Country Bread just called. They’re eliminating Zack from their list of potential drivers.”
She winced. “Because he crashed today?”
He nodded. “Right now, I don’t blame them. But—” he seemed to be forcing the words out “—I admit, I’m upset.”
Chad was telling her how he felt? Without being asked? Brianna glanced at the sky, wondering if she might see pigs flying overhead.
BRIANNA HAD TRAVELED between the hotel and the race track that morning with Brady, who’d invited her to fly down on the team plane with him. But Chad insisted on taking her back.
He said little as he drove, but when they reached town, instead of continuing along South Atlantic toward their hotel, he took a left down a small street toward a tiny parking lot above the sands of the famous Daytona Beach.
“What’s going on?” Brianna asked.
“Let’s walk,” he said.
He must still be down about Zack’s result today and about Country Bread pulling out. As far as she knew, that made Getaway Resorts the team’s only hope for a primary sponsor. Her stomach sank as she got out of the car, and her mood turned as dark as the sky above.
She could commiserate with Chad if he needed sympathy. But if he was looking for any kind of encouragement about the sponsorship…
He held her hand as they headed down the steps to the sand. Brianna rolled up her pant legs, and Chad did the same. She caught him looking at her ankles, and then his gaze traveled slowly up. He swallowed.
They walked toward the low tide. As they hit the line between dry sand and wet, Chad stopped, took her hands in his.
“There’s no easy way to say this,” he said, “so I guess I might as well just spit it out.” He squeezed her fingers. “I feel as nervous as a rookie in his first race.”
“What’s this about?” The wind blew her hair across her face; she pushed it aside.
“Brianna—” his voice dropped, serious “—I’d like us to stay together. To stay married.”
What? Warmth flooded Brianna, protecting her from the wind. Chad had asked the question she most wanted to hear. The one she’d given up on.
And yet…he didn’t look warm. His jaw was tense—he’s nervous, that’s understandable—and his face held none of the joy she might have expected. None of the urgent excitement that had accompanied his first marriage proposal.
“Why?” she asked.
His foot scuffed the damp sand. “We’ve tried ignoring our marriage, we’ve tried working around it, but nothing can get you out of my head. I figure maybe it’s time to accept it. I…care about you.”
As a declaration of his feelings, his words fell far short of what she wanted to hear.
“I care about your brothers, but that doesn’t mean I want to marry them.” Hurt leached into the words, though she tried to contain it.
“This isn’t the same, and you know it.” He let go of her hands, at the very moment she wanted him to hold more tightly. “We’re already married, it’s on record that we cared enough about each other, in the right way, to commit to each other.”
“Cared, past tense.”
“Care, present tense,” he said firmly.
“Do you love me?” She held her breath.
Chad rammed his hands in his pockets. “Yes,” he said, “I do.”
She’d asked the question, but she hadn’t expected a direct answer. Brianna dug her toes into the sand, trying to find a solid place she could trust. “You sound very sure of that. Which you weren’t, say, a week ago.”
“So I only just realized it,” he said. “But what other explanation is there for the way I think about you, the way I want you?”
“Lust could be an explanation.” Her jacket flapped in the stiffening breeze, and she zipped it up.
“I’ve felt lust before. This is all that and more.”
His words were heading in the right direction—but there was something missing.
“You said you loved
me back in Vegas,” she said. “Why would our marriage be any different this time around?”
“Because this time,” he said, “I’m willing to do it your way. The whole sharing, talking, emoting thing.”
He looked her in the eye, and she could see he meant it. It was like a dream, hearing him say those words—and like many dreams, it didn’t feel real.
“Well?” he said. Then, obviously realizing how sharp he sounded, “What do you say, Brianna? Are we together forever?”
Unfair! was her first thought. How was she supposed to think clearly in the face of that lure?
“So you’re telling me—” she felt her way, wanting to believe, but looking for the catch “—you’ll share with me. All your hopes and fears and problems and dreams.”
“Whatever you want,” he promised.
“Share one with me now.”
“Huh?”
“Give me an example of one of your fears.”
He squinted into the distance. “I can’t think of one off the top of my head.”
“Really? Because I could tell you one of mine.”
“I’m new to this,” he said. “Give me time.”
She nodded. It wasn’t an unreasonable request. “Chad, last time around, you refused to consider the idea of us working together. Now that I understand how much NASCAR demands of you, I think it’s even more important for me to be involved in the team.”
“We’ve survived the past few weeks,” he said. “I’m negotiable on that if it’s what you want.”
Suddenly Brianna realized what was wrong. “Do you need me, Chad?”
He reared back. “What kind of question is that?”
“A simple one.” All you have to do is give the right answer.
He folded his arms. “I’m not generally a needy guy,” he said. “In NASCAR, needy doesn’t get you far.” Consciously he unfolded his arms, shook them loose. “Surely what’s important here is that I love you. I hope we’d both be more mature, more realistic, this time about making our marriage work.”
“Needing someone isn’t about being clingy or insecure or incapable,” she said. “When you love someone, being with them, even when times are tough, makes your life better in every way. Who doesn’t need that?”
A flash in his eyes told her he didn’t.
In that moment of his denial, the truth hit Brianna.
She’d fallen in love with him all over again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I LOVE HIM.
A gust of wind whipped spray off the ocean; the salt stung Brianna’s face. She closed her eyes against the elements and against the knowledge of the pain of separation that she was about to experience.
Only this time, it would be worse.
This time, she’d fallen in love with the real Chad, a man she knew like her own heart.
She knew he didn’t want to share the most meaningful parts of his life with her. She knew he could be insensitive and bossy and domineering.
She knew he cared about his family—he’d probably be horrified to realize how much. His attitude toward Brady was all about protecting his father from hurt. His love for his brothers kept him trying to unite them and make the team work when anyone else would have given up.
She also knew Chad was loyal and protective, that he understood what hurt her and would do his utmost to keep her safe. She knew he was a wonderful lover, both gentle and demanding.
She knew he wasn’t about to become the man she needed. But she had to try.
“I don’t want you opening up as some kind of favor to me or as a bargaining chip,” she said. “I want you doing it because your life is better when you do.” Her voice rose in frustration. They were so close….
“Those’re just words,” he flung at her. “I could promise you I’m doing it for the right reasons, but it’s how we make it work every day that counts.” He hunched his shoulders as he faced into the wind. “I just…love you,” he said tightly. “Accept it, dammit.”
She gazed out to sea, where a boat, a tiny blaze of light, headed for the dark ocean. “I see what this is about now.”
“Great,” he said sarcastically. “For a minute there I thought I simply meant what I was saying.”
“You do care for me. But you care more about protecting your world.”
He snorted.
“The team,” she said. “If you and I stay married, you’ll get the sponsorship.”
Chad’s face darkened and he said very quietly, “If you think for one minute I want us to stay together because of the money…”
She quailed before his anger, but she said, “Your timing suggests it does.”
“This has nothing to do with Getaway’s money.”
She took a step backward. “I’m not accusing you of deliberately asking me to remain your wife for that reason. But if we do stay married, all your problems are solved.”
“I DIDN’T HAVE any problems until I met you!” Chad said, hurt and furious.
She flinched. To his horror, tears sprang to her eyes, but she brushed them away.
“I want the kind of love Trent and Kelly have,” she said. “I want us to need each other above all else.”
“They’re not like most people,” Chad said, frustrated.
“You believe we can never have that?”
“I don’t want us to be Trent and Kelly,” he said. “I want us to make our own way.” Damn. It felt as if he was offering her the runner-up prize. “Will you stay with me or not?” He sounded like his father in one of Brady’s worst moments.
“No.” She spoke before he could find a way to rephrase the question, and that one word hit him so hard it winded him.
He opened his mouth a couple of times, but no sound came out.
“We’re done, Chad.” No shivering this time, no tears.
Chad called on every reserve of strength, of stoicism, in the effort to stay still, to stay on his feet, to keep his face from contorting with despair. “Then I have to respect your decision.”
It sounded wooden, but that was a whole lot better than letting her see how her refusal had devastated him. Shocked him, he amended. That was all it was, a shock. And if this was how it felt to end things with a woman he didn’t need, then there was no way he was ever going to be dumb enough to actually need her.
“WHERE’S JULIE-ANNE?” Brady asked his new secretary, the woman Julie-Anne had hired for him.
“She had a meeting with the piston supplier.”
“I’ll wait,” he said, and headed into his office. Even the thrill of Speedweeks hadn’t been enough to keep Julie-Anne off his mind. He’d commandeered the team plane first thing this morning and flown home.
“Mr. Matheson, Julie-Anne said you’re not allowed back at the office yet.”
“My doctor said I could come in for a couple of hours,” he lied. He should be annoyed that Julie-Anne was keeping him away from his work, but it was a relief to know she still cared enough to lay down the rules.
More likely, she doesn’t want another heart attack on her conscience.
If she’d stopped caring, that was his fault. But he was here to fix that.
His office shrieked her presence. Brady breathed in her spicy floral scent, fingered the scarf slung over the back of her chair. His chair. The desk was a mess, but he knew it was an ordered mess, and that Julie-Anne would know exactly where everything was. Thank goodness she’d agreed to stay on at the office, despite their break-up, until he was fit for work again.
He sat in the chair and picked up a folder marked “NASCAR Nationwide Series” and began flicking through it. It was a relief to fill his mind with engine-dyno statistics and forward orders. He’d had far too much time to think relationship thoughts.
He’d been there maybe half an hour when he heard Julie-Anne’s voice in the outer office. Brady’s fingers trembled on the page he was reading.
She’d been alerted to his presence, going by the frown on her face as she entered the office. “Brady, what are you
doing? I don’t believe for one minute your doctor said you could come in here.”
Her voice washed over him, the sight of her—hands on hips, indignation in her eyes—filled his senses, poured into a cavernous hunger he hadn’t even realized was inside him. A glorious, welcome warmth filtered through him. This was what it must have been like when the sun came out after the Ice Age.
“I wanted to be here,” he said, aware that here meant wherever she was, rather than this specific building. His face was one big goofy grin. Anyone would think he was a high-school senior, not a middle-aged man with a rickety heart.
She glared a moment longer, then, reluctantly, her mouth curved. Just that hint of a smile set Brady’s heart thudding better than any defibrillator. Why had he thought he could have any kind of life worth living without Julie-Anne?
She dropped her gaze, reminding him she didn’t yet know the decision he’d made, and stacked the folders she was carrying on a shelf where they weren’t supposed to go. No doubt in some kind of random order that made sense to her but would drive Brady nuts when he got back to work.
He let out a satisfied sigh.
“How long do you intend to stay?” she asked.
“Forever.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
He grabbed her hands, tugged her away from the shelf. “Julie-Anne, I’m a fool.”
She stared.
“Don’t argue with me.” He grinned, because plainly she had no intention of disagreeing. “I love you so much my life doesn’t make a scrap of sense when you’re not around.”
“Brady, we’ve been here before.” She sounded impatient, resigned, but he didn’t miss the thread of hope in her voice.
“You’re right,” he said. “Once before, I had the good sense to propose to you, then I let my stupid pride get in the way of making you mine. I told myself I was doing it for your sake.”
“Idiot,” she said lovingly.