Being held in his arms was as wonderful as she remembered. And just as burdened with problems.
Their careers and reputations were seriously on the line now. As teenagers they’d worried about their fathers catching them, but young love had made them bold and blind to any true consequences. Now there was no denying the risks they were flouting.
Maybe Kane wasn’t worried. Racing was a wild, risky profession. Was she just another risk to take? Another challenge to overcome?
She had to prepare for that possibility, but she knew, regardless of his feelings for her, she’d gone and done it again—fallen hard.
Fast. Sure. Completely.
Without him she was pretty sure she wouldn’t draw another easy breath. With him she wondered if breathing would be even harder.
She’d longed for an accountant, a lawyer, a waiter. She’d gotten none of those. As a teenager, she’d fallen in love with a race car driver, and, truth be told, she’d never fallen out.
With a quiet giggle, she pushed aside that practical, think-of-everybody-before-yourself side and indulged in happiness. A long time had passed since she’d felt this content. As she basked in the glow of reunion, she remembered a time when she and Kane had been wrapped in each other’s arms as young lovers and looked out on this same lake.
They’d shared so much together. The disappointment of his football days dying. The birth of his enthusiasm for NASCAR. The hopes for their future together. The sadness when their love had been overwhelmed by careers, jealousy, arguments.
She’d lost the love of her life, but somehow she and Kane had formed a new bond. She felt the same in some ways, and completely different in others. Her emotions were all over the place—blissful, exhilarated, worried. They’d changed and grown up, but would things really be better this time?
Could Kane love her? Real, true, deep love? The love of his life?
“Can’t sleep?” he asked softly.
She turned to see him standing in the doorway, his hair wavy and mussed, wearing only his jeans. She swallowed hard and had to look away before she could answer him. “I’m just thinking.”
“Regrets already?”
“No,” she answered truthfully. She didn’t regret. She dreaded.
Big difference.
But with him so close and their renewed intimacy still lingering in the air, she had no intention of dwelling on her fears at the moment. She held out her hand. “Join me?”
He cast a glance back—at the bed, no doubt—then sat on the swing, pulling her back against his warm chest.
“It’s quiet,” she said.
“Probably why so many drivers live out here.”
“You?”
“Yeah. The isolation is nice.” He stroked his fingers down her bare arm. “And sometimes lousy.”
She recalled many Sunday nights she’d sat on her own back porch and wondered where everybody had gone. After the buildup to race day, all she had left was her own company. “The loneliness in our business, alongside so much intensity, is hard for a lot of people to understand.”
“Not you.”
“Only because I’ve been a part of it for so long. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a normal life,” she added quietly.
“You’d rather have a nine-to-five job?” he asked, his surprise evident.
“No.” What would she do if she didn’t spend all her time either working on cars or going to the track? The idea was as likely as flying to the moon.
“You ever think about what you’ll do after you retire?” she asked.
“No.”
She glanced back at him, but the night shadowed his expression. “Yes, you do.”
“My father thinks I ought to do PR for the NFL.”
She stiffened. Conversations about his father were always loaded with tension. And, as was typical with Anton Jackson’s suggestions, she completely disagreed.
She’d never known anybody less likely than Kane to work in public relations. He was great with the fans, but he was also impatient. He was terrible at organization and worse at playing politics. Plus, he would never get anywhere on time if James didn’t schedule every minute of his weekend.
He surprised her by smiling, then kissing her forehead. “I can read your thoughts, you know.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah, you’re thinking you haven’t heard a worse idea since Ricky Matthews suggested you be the lookout for his clock-stealing scheme.”
She laughed and turned slightly, laying her head against his chest. “Pretty close.”
He stroked her hair. “I like having you here.”
“I like being here.”
“Are you sure?”
His heart thumped beneath her ear. Doubts and worries pushed her to confess their concerns, but she ignored them. “Yes.”
“You seemed uncomfortable earlier.”
“I didn’t see any point in broadcasting our relationship—past or present.”
“We were among friends.”
“I’m not ready to share us with them, either.”
“You’re embarrassed.”
Startled, she lifted her head. “I’m not.” She cupped his jaw, then pressed her lips briefly against his. “I’m not at all. It’s just that once everybody knows we’re…”
“Sleeping together.”
She winced. “Too much information. I was going to say reunited.”
“You don’t want anyone to know we’re sleeping together.”
Hearing the angry, wounded tone in his voice, she sat up straight. “Once everyone knows about us, the speculation, the truth, whatever…it’ll become a thing.”
“A thing?”
“An excuse for why you’re driving great. Or not so great. A reason why I’m happy and made the right adjustment on the car. A reason why I’m annoyed and forgot to double-check the ignition box. Then it’s not about us anymore. It’s about everything else. We’re entitled to a private life.”
“I don’t want to apologize.”
She slid her thumb across his bottom lip, which was entirely too firm. “I’d never ask you to.”
“You did with Victor Sono.”
He was their primary sponsor. They couldn’t afford to annoy him. There was nothing personal about her request. “I was a car chief then,” she said.
“You’re not now?”
“Definitely not.”
She kissed the corner of his mouth, reassurance welling up in her as she realized how nice it was to touch him, to not be constantly holding back. She wanted to relive their longing and passion over and over again, until he was again familiar, until she’d memorized every sigh and touch. “Remember what we did the night we sneaked out to your parents’ lake house?”
“Vividly.”
“You wanna do that again?”
“I think I could be persuaded to go there.”
She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled his head toward her lips. “Go there.”
AFTER FINISHING SIXTH in the first Chase race at New Hampshire, Kane arrived in Dover on Thursday night with a surge of confidence.
Which lasted about ten minutes.
Apparently, Lexie had told her father she was staying with Kane in his motor coach this weekend.
When they got to the track, they’d rushed to the hauler for a brief meeting with Harry. And his crew chief—the man who’d been his mentor for too many years to count—gave him one long, hard stare, then ignored him completely.
He’d talked to his daughter about race details and the car setup, but not with his usual easiness and affection. His anger and disappointment was evident.
Lexie had warned Kane this would happen. She’d told him a lot of people were not going to be happy for them and had convinced him last week to say nothing about their relationship. She’d also refused to stay in his motor coach with him.
But he had no intention of hiding from anybody.
He wanted her to stay
with him, despite her dire warning that the team was going to worry about how their relationship would affect the team, their communication and chemistry. Their friends were going to worry they would be pushed aside. His female fans, according to Lexie, were going to hate her.
Kane had dismissed most of her concerns. Until now, anyway.
What was with people? Didn’t they have anything else to worry about? He wasn’t entitled to a slice of happiness? He wasn’t supposed to have a private life?
He stalked out of the hauler and paced outside. Looking back on his lunch with James yesterday, he remembered even his best buddy still had reservations about him and Lexie dating again. He’d asked Kane how things were going, as if he expected trouble.
Did they think being with Lexie was going to affect his driving? Like Samson cutting his hair, he’d suddenly forget how to press the gas pedal? That he’d get on the track and wonder whether he should go right or left? Surely they’d all settle down once everybody realized how ridiculous that was.
If anything his concentration should improve, since he wasn’t focusing on his conflicts with Lexie anymore. He’d had a great finish last week, and that seemed like proof to him.
He’d just have to act as if nothing had changed. He wasn’t into public displays of affection, anyway, but he’d make double sure he treated Lexie professionally in public. He’d make sure he treated all the guys the same—though he couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t.
The door opened behind him, and Lexie stepped out. “Ready to go?”
“Sure. How did—” He stopped when he saw tears glimmering in her eyes. Immediately the no-PDA vow died. He drew her into his arms. “What did he say?”
“The usual parent stuff—you’re making a mistake, you’re ruining your life.”
But Harry wasn’t a usual parent. In all the years he’d known them, he’d never heard him and Lexie fight. A reunion with him, however, had provoked an argument that ended with her in tears. Not exactly a confidence booster or a mood destined to keep the spark alive in their romance.
Why couldn’t they share their happiness with the people who meant the most?
He sighed in disappointment and hugged her against his chest. He’d caused a rift between her and her father. He’d pushed her and pursued her. He’d convinced her nothing would change except that he’d finally be able to look into her eyes and be honest in telling her he no longer wanted to just be her friend and teammate.
His chest tightened when he considered that it wasn’t just any man involved with his daughter that upset Harry. It was him personally.
Was that just because of their positions on the team, or did the resentment go deeper than that? His own father had never fully accepted him and the choices he’d made. Harry always had. Would his relationship with Lexie cost him that respect?
“You wanna dump me again?” he asked her, striving for humor.
Sniffling, she clutched him tighter, her face pressed against his throat. “No.”
“But you told me so, didn’t you? You told me everybody was going to freak out.”
“I did tell you so,” she said, her voice stronger.
“But then, you’re always right.”
She lifted her head and looked up at him. A tentative smile hovered on her lips. “I must really be pitiful if you’re conceding that.”
“I concede nothing. I was trying to make you laugh.”
“Doesn’t make me less right.”
“Depends of the subject. Gear ratios?”
“Mine.”
“Wind tunnel statistics.”
“Mine again.”
“Pass protection in football.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You can have that one.”
“What about…” He whispered a naughty suggestion in her ear.
“Oh, well, okay. You get that one, too,” she said, her tone husky.
He kissed her gently. “I’m sorry you and your dad argued.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Later. I’m starving.” She tugged his hand, and they headed to his motor coach.
There they made dinner together, then watched a sitcom on TV. Tomorrow he’d have to share her, so tonight he planned to be greedy. Shades drawn, and the rest of the racing world shut out, they made love on the sofa. Each time he held her he was reminded of the precious gift she was to him. He could very easily fall in love again.
Not just teenage infatuation, but the happily-ever-after kind that changed a man forever. The kind of relationship that had him wondering about building a family and changing anything in his life necessary to keep her happy and devoted to him.
Was he already there?
As she moved around in the kitchen making a cup of tea, she wore only his T-shirt. Her hair was tousled, her face relaxed. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight.
But when did you know? Did you just look at a woman one day and know?
She’s the one. I want to spend my life with her.
He’d have to remember to ask his dad. Despite the years that had passed, the struggles of life and the temptations encountered by a famous athlete—and the man had the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders hanging around—his parents were still very much in love. They understood and supported each other. They connected on levels he had no concept of.
He knew Lexie’s parents had had that same kind of relationship, though they’d been cheated out of their lifetime together. He’d never understood until recently how much that mattered.
“He doesn’t think I’m good enough for you,” he said, not even realizing the thought had entered his brain until the words emerged from his mouth.
Lexie looked up, watching him from over her mug. “He’s got on his crew chief cap,” she said, obviously not needing an explanation for who he was. “He’s pissed off that I’m distracting his driver.”
“You’re not distracting me.” He grinned, his gaze sliding down her half-bare body. “Well, you are, but he’s upset about more than me driving his car.”
“He’s jealous. I’m the only woman in his life. He doesn’t want to share me.”
“He said that?”
“No, but that’s the heart of his issue.” She rounded the bar, then sat beside him on the couch, her bare legs curled next to his jean-clad ones. “That and not wanting to see us fall apart again.”
“Who says we’re going to fall apart?”
“Nobody said we’re going to. He just worries that might happen.”
“We’ve been back together less than two weeks, why—”
“Is that what we are? Back together?”
“Sure, what else?”
Her gaze flicked up to his. “We’ve had one date, a couple of sleepovers, and now we’re spending the weekend together.”
“Right.”
“So we’re exclusive?”
What else would they be? “Yes. You have other plans?”
“No. Just checking. And you didn’t ask, by the way.”
He furrowed his brow. Was she annoyed, or just messing with him? “You want me to ask you to go steady?”
Smiling, she set her mug on the table. Then she turned to him and curled her hand around the back of his head. “Oh, Kane, how sweet. How traditional.”
Messing with him. Definitely. He slid his arms around her. “How about if I offer you my senior ring?”
“I never gave it back.”
He frowned. “You didn’t?”
“No. It’s still in my jewelry box.”
“You didn’t burn it or toss it out of a fast-moving car?”
“Of course not.” She blinked innocently. “Thought about it a few times.”
“Well, I feel loads better, and you’re distracting me from my point.” What was his point? Touching her was always distracting.
Harry. Not good enough. Ah, falling apart. “Do we have to spend every moment reliving past mistakes?”
“Hey, you asked. He remembers how hu
rt I was before. He considers you the cause of that pain.”
“I was.”
“It was a two-way street. I let a lot of things bother me that I wouldn’t today.”
“Like…”
LEXIE LOOKED DOWN, then back into Kane’s eyes. She’d been teasing him, but the issues were serious ones. She shouldn’t still be carrying baggage from the old days. “I was unsure of myself, and I didn’t like the other women who hung around. I was jealous of the time you spent in the garage. Your dedication to racing. I always felt I was second. A very distant second. I realize now that’s just part of who you are. It’s something I have to accept.”
He stroked her cheek. “Racing isn’t first, and you aren’t second. You don’t have to accept leftover time from me.”
For a long time she’d dreamed of hearing those words from him. Were they really true now, or had they been true before and she’d just been too insecure to see them? She wasn’t sure, but she hadn’t imagined his distraction and his restlessness when they were together.
One thing she knew—they were both young. Could things be different this time? Could she be more confident? More demanding when she needed to be? Could he be less impatient off the track and still be aggressive on it?
Other than nearly knocking Danny Lockwood on his butt at Bristol, he’d certainly found a good balance between driver and man off the track.
He’d listened to her advice and understood she wasn’t criticizing but helping. The younger Kane never would have done that. He would have lost his temper, and they would have fought, or he simply would have walked away from her. His track performance was benefiting. The cautious driver she’d started with in February at Daytona had been replaced with one of smart ambition.
“I was lousy at balancing things before,” he continued. “I’m better now.”
But he still had an unquenchable desire to win, for hardcharging competition—every driver did. And he still had a desperate desire for his father’s respect. For his father to see him as an equal. She wasn’t sure that would ever happen, and she wasn’t sure how that affected every other relationship in his life.
She couldn’t turn away from him, though. Regardless of her father’s warnings, of her own internal doubts, she’d thrown her heart into the ring with Kane Jackson again.
Full Throttle Page 15