“It’s a small incline. It will be hard, but better on your knees than going downhill at this point. Just a quarter of a mile. Don’t worry about what happens after that? Can you walk a quarter of a mile?”
A small whimper escaped her throat, but she nodded her head and handed him back the bottle. “’kay.”
Her strangled reply almost caused him to bolt out of the truck. He wanted so badly to wrap his arms around her and carry her the last four and a half miles. He would, in an instant. Anything for her.
“Don’t.” Chase’s voice stopped his hand on the door latch. “She can do this. It’s hard, I know, but we have to stay in this truck. This is where she needs us right now.”
He met the younger man’s eyes and saw the pain in them. “You’re right. Thanks.”
Watching her wobble and stumble up the little hill broke his heart, and he wanted to avert his eyes. Close them for a while so he didn’t have to see her in so much pain. But no, he couldn’t do that. Shaylee was showing tremendous strength with each scrape of her foot in front of the other, each grimace-filled step and harsh swing of her arms as she put her whole body into practically dragging herself over that crest. If she could be strong enough to force herself through this, he could be strong enough to watch her do it.
Shaylee stopped with a groan and started to sit down. Ryan was by her side in a moment. He checked her temperature again and confirmed her heart rate. High, but not dangerously high. This was all coming down to will now. And she was losing it fast. “Come on, lady. You have come so far. Don’t give up now.”
She stifled a sob, and her red-eyed gaze met his. “I’m hallucinating again. I’m going to call this one. I’m finished.”
“What are you seeing?”
“My d-daughter on a bike, wearing a pink ski jacket and high heels.” She laughed maniacally. “Now, I know I’ve lost it.”
Ryan followed her gaze, and sure enough, a pink fluff ball, the spitting image of her mother, pedaled an old-time bike, a pair of high-heeled shoes hanging over the handlebars, toward them. “You’re not seeing things, Shay. As crazy as it looks, it’s Courtney.”
Chase was out of the truck, leaving it idling on the shoulder as he barked at the younger woman. “What took you so long?”
She rolled her eyes at her older brother and flung the bike to the side of the road before racing to Shaylee.
Ryan watched the two women sob in each other’s arms, interrupting one another with their apologies and love. Thank God she had made it in time.
“Thanks for calling me.” Courtney looked shyly up at him, mascara running down her cheeks, a wrinkle in her brow. “I was a jerk and didn’t give you much of a chance. I’m sorry.”
“You’re here now, and more than making up for it.”
Shaylee whispered a tearful thank you over Courtney’s head and hugged her daughter again, tight.
“Okay, Mama, I’m here. What do we need to do to help you cross that finish line?”
Shay looked between Courtney, Chase, and him.
“Anything you need. We’re all here for you,” Ryan said, sharing a look with the rest of her beloved family.
“Court, can you walk part of the way with me?” Shay glanced down at the high heels in her daughter’s hands. “Good Lord, never mind. With those heels, that’s not a good idea.” She gripped Courtney’s hand. “Just stay on the passenger side of the truck and talk to me, tell me funny stories from growing up.”
Defiance shot through the younger woman’s eyes as she glared hotly at all three of them. “For the record, Mother, I don’t own tennis shoes. I walk at least five miles in these daily. And if you want me to walk with you, high heels or not, I’m damn well walking with you. I will help you cross your finish line.”
He knew that look. The same one Shaylee gave right before gutting out the last five miles of a hard, long run or the last few reps of weights after her body had gone into muscle failure. Or when she decided she would date a younger man, damn whatever other people thought. That piercing look and flashes of pride and confidence were not only the mother’s trademark show of strength, they belonged to her daughter as well. And it was a beautiful sight.
“There’s no rule against her walking with you. She just can’t hold you up. You have to make forward progress on your own abilities.”
With a quick nod, and a hug for each of them, Shay was on her way. Chase drove so Ryan could sit in the backseat, watch, hand over water bottles, and take some pictures of this amazing moment—besides, he was too jittery to drive right now and would have steered them into the brush on the side of the road.
The two women gave each other a firm hand squeeze before cresting the hill and heading into the long four-mile stretch to the finish. One wore heels and a pink jacket, the other scrapes, bruises, and a dirty white jacket with the gym’s logo. And, on both faces, a look of sheer determination he would never forget. No one would because he made sure to get them on camera.
Defiance, strength, will, character—everything that made for a perfect happy ending. And Shay’s was less than five miles away.
~.~
“God, my feet are killing me. Oops, sorry.” Court glanced up at her sheepishly. “I’m not being too helpful if I complain about walking three-and a-half miles, am I?” She slipped off her shoes and handed them to Ryan who sat in the truck.
Shay tried to keep her voice from being too harsh. “Young lady, you are not walking the final mile barefoot. Pop into the cab and cheer me on from there.”
“Are you sure?” Courtney’s chin shook, and her lower lip wobbled. “I don’t want to let you down.”
She pulled Court into a big hug and kissed her on her forehead. “Sweet girl. If you hadn’t come, I would have stopped before that last crest. You are the reason I am here right now. And I’m going to jog the last bit. Go in strong.” Shay’s knees buckled, and she released a quick sigh. “Okay, I’m not going in strong. I’m going to wobble all over the place and fall a few more times. But I am going to try to finish this race the way I started. Jogging, while the people I love back me up and cheer me on.” She wiped away a tear trickling down her daughter’s cheek. “I love you. Now go get in the truck, and let me finish this.”
Ryan got out of his seat in the back and offered it to Court, so she could stay close to her, choosing to take the passenger side front. God, the man never ceased to amaze her. After Ryan’s determined, “You got this,” Chase’s hand pump, and Courtney’s teary, “Go, Mama!” Shay felt like she could run another hundred miles. The people she loved the most rode beside her, backing her every painful step of the last mile.
And it was by far the most painful thing she had ever done. Birthing her children? Yeah, they gave epidurals for that, and it took a lot less time. She’d thought those moments had been hard. But grunting and groaning, wincing and whimpering, tripping, getting back up, her knees aching, her lips bleeding, her poor body feeling like she wanted to shut down…all while seeing the concerned faces of her loved ones… These were the most difficult things she had ever done.
Divorcing Roger, raising her children, falling in love with a younger man who complemented her so perfectly—they were also among the most difficult things she had ever done in her life. But with every wince and stutter-step, knowing her loved ones felt her pain twice as hard while they watched and supported her… Knowing she couldn’t control any of it, and all she could do was place one foot in front of the other…
That was the hardest thing she had ever done.
She crossed the finish line to the cheers of a boisterous crowd of forty and collapsed into the arms of a nice man who placed a heating blanket around her and led her to a spot on the side where she could have orange slices, bananas—were those steak kabobs?— beer, champagne, Gatorade, water. The tables were packed with food and drinks. But all she wanted to do was find the truck. Ryan’s truck.
Support vehicles had to veer onto a small road around the finish line, so as not to congest the area
. It meant Shaylee was on her own until they parked and found her. She sat down with a heavy thud and prepared to close her eyes for a few minutes, but strong arms circled her chest. She knew those arms; they had been wrapped around her on those cold nights in bed. They had lovingly toweled off her sweat after she keeled over from a sauna workout. Those firm hands had administered IVs, massages, and directed workouts. They had also given her the best orgasms of her life.
“I knew you could do it.” Ryan pulled her up onto his lap and kissed her. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I walked and ran over a hundred miles, and I could sleep for a week.” She leaned into his embrace, loving the smell of him.
“Okay, we can get you back to the hotel, but, first, you got something.” He took the medal from the race director, thanked him, and put it over her head. “You’re the first female to finish in your age group, and fifth overall.”
“I can’t believe it,” she said, beaming through her tears at both men. “Thank you.”
“Most people don’t finish the race.” The race director handed her a small towel with the race’s name and year embroidered on it. “You should be proud.”
“I am.” Both she and Ryan spoke at the same time and laughed.
“Congratulations. We hope to see you again next year.”
He asked if she was willing and able to stand for one picture for their website, and she inwardly groaned at the thought of standing up again. Her legs were shot. But two sets of firm arms wrapped around her and pulled her to her feet, holding her tightly as she leaned against them and posed. Her two favorite men.
“Do you want her by herself?” Ryan asked.
“Oh hell, no.” She clung to Chase and Ryan, and they both winced at her death grip. “You guys were just as big a part of this thing. You will be in this picture.”
The race director assured them the picture would be the best one on the website. Most on the site showed the very realistic pictures of the clawed their way through hell finishers and non-finishers. But this one, he explained, showcased love at its rawest, perseverance, and true surrender to the ultimate goal. Shaylee would cherish this photo.
“You sure Court’s okay with missing her chance at being in the pic?”
“Without her hair done properly and with her makeup all jacked up? Nah, she’ll be thankful,” Chase joked and handed her a protein drink. “We’ll sneak in a pic later when she’s not looking.”
“Are we done?”
The director thanked her and congratulated her again before leaving to talk to other participants. Shay’s knees finally gave out.
“Okay, who’s carrying me back to the truck? I’m never walking again.” She groaned and felt Ryan lift her up against his chest.
“That’s my job. I’ll walk for you, if you’ll let me.” He kissed her forehead. Chase walked in front to give them some space. “I’d walk the whole course by myself, to show you how much I care for you. How much I respect you, and how in awe I am of what you did this weekend.”
“What are you saying, exactly?” She tilted his chin, forcing his gaze down to hers.
His eyes flashed with determination and love as he shifted her higher into his arms. “I’m saying I love you. So much it hurts. I’m saying, it killed me to watch you hurting, and to have to sit there and do nothing. But I’d do it again, all of it, just to show you how much I love you, and if you don’t feel the same way yet, it’s okay. We can take it as slowly as you need. But know that I love you, and I would walk the entire course barefoot with no water, no gels, no truck behind me, so you would know how I feel.”
“Then you’re stupid.”
He stopped and tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowing, confusion and hurt apparent on his face.
“I won’t be moving these sore legs anytime soon, but, next year, or maybe the year after, I’m doing this again. And you are going to be in the support truck, doing so much more than nothing. You’ll be cheering me on, monitoring my levels, keeping me hydrated, feeding my body, my heart, and my soul as I drag one foot in front of the other. And you’ll be doing it because I need you to. Because I love you, too, Ryan Banks. One step at a time, right? First step, saying I love you. Second step, massage and making love back home. But, first, I’m going to sleep for a while.” She kissed his firm lips, wincing as they made contact with her dry, cracked ones. “Okay, no kissing for now. I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up when it’s time for the next step.”
“I love you, too.”
He kissed her forehead gently, and she closed her eyes and let the warm, dark tunnel of sleep take her.
Their relationship would have its ups and downs. But if they could make it through the most difficult race in the world, they could battle through a few miles of downhills.
They’d logged over a thousand miles in their relationship so far. And she was already planning for the next thousand.
They were racing toward love. One step at a time.
The End
Epilogue
“All right, Peabody. I’m showered, dressed, and ready to hear your big strategy. Hit me with the details, and take me to dinner. I’m starving.” Shay grinned and did a little twirl in the skimpy strapless black dress, loving the way Ryan’s eyes lit up when he saw her. Tonight marked their six-month anniversary as a couple, and Shaylee was dying to ask him the biggest question of her life. Why had she gotten so worked up about the possibility of Ryan leaving her for a younger model? He wasn’t her asshole ex-husband. Ryan was amazing, thoughtful, considerate, fun. And the way he looked at her—like right now, his eyes dark and full of passion—yeah, he was definitely attracted to her. He’d told her those very same words—and shown them with the use of his hard body and soft tongue—and even scolded her a few times for putting him in the same league as Roger. Shaylee loved that he looked at her as an equal, never trying to force an idea or thought. But man, in the bedroom, when he took her hard and fast, or soft and slow…hell, every way he took her left her shattered in a million pieces. Ryan was not getting tired of her.
He’d hinted a few times that he wanted more from their relationship, but she’d always brushed it off. “Let’s revisit this in a month or so,” she’d said several times since their big race in Death Valley. Not because she didn’t want more between her and Ryan. She did. But her love had scared her too much—and the possibility of him finally getting sick of her and leaving. Courtney had talked some sense into her. Ryan was sticking around. He wasn’t like other men, and hell, she wasn’t like other women. They completed each other. And it was time to take things to the next level.
She’d baked a wedding ring into the individual chocolate cake she’d made tonight. Shaylee was going to propose to Ryan. A bit unorthodox—just like the rest of their relationship.
Fidgeting with the hem of her dress, her palms sweaty with nervous tension, she smiled at him. “I made your favorite cakelet and thought maybe we could chat and eat dessert first. Then go to dinner.” Leading him into the kitchen, she went through her mental list of the way things could go wrong. He could choke on the ring, and then she’d have to perform the Heimlich on him on the kitchen floor. Not too romantic. Yikes. He could also say no. He wouldn’t be like that, though. He would sputter, his face would go red, and then he’d make an excuse like, “Oh, wow, Shay, you’re amazing, but…” Yeah, the “but” would kill her.
“On second thought, maybe we should go get dinner first and have dessert later. We don’t want to miss our reservation. This place sounds amazing, and I’ve never tried Indian cuisine.” She frantically eyed the two cakes, willing them to disappear. If he didn’t see them, he couldn’t eat his. If he didn’t eat it and find the ring, she wouldn’t have to follow through and ask him to marry her. Yeah totally backwards and cliché, but she hadn’t been thinking with her head for the past week. It had been all lovey-dovey, sappy heart stuff. Crap. There was too much to lose here. They had a good thing going on, and she could totally ruin it with one little cake. “
Yeah, let’s just go to dinner.”
“I’m starving, Shay. And their appetizers take a while to come out. Let’s eat the cakes first, talk about my idea, and then head out. Is that okay with you?” He grabbed the cakes and placed one in front of her and one at his spot at the table. “Have a seat.”
She sat. Her legs wouldn’t have held her up much longer, anyway. This was worse than her ultra-marathon three months ago.
Crap, he’d given himself the cake on the right, the one with the gold wedding band in it. Maybe she could switch them out when he turned to get them a drink? “Um, do you mind getting the wine? My legs are tired from this morning’s ten miler.”
He was so cute when his eyes crinkled like that, and that little dimple in his cheek appeared when his lip turned up at the corner. “Sure. I brought something special for us to try. Hold on while I grab the glasses.”
When he turned his back and started talking about the fruit-mixtured something or other with wine and rum, she grabbed the cakes and switched them.
Phew! Now she had the one with the ring. She’d just be careful when eating it, and tell him she wasn’t that hungry after a few bites.
After he sat down and handed her an ice-filled drink that looked like a cross between a mimosa and sangria, she took a tiny sip and watched him eat his cake. He moaned in delight, telling her again how much he loved her baking skills.
Fiddling with hers, she managed a few bites and took another sip as the ice clinked in the bottom of the glass.
“Hey, if you’re not going to eat that, I’ll take it.” He grinned and reached for hers. His empty ramekin sat on the side of the table, and she watched numbly as he polished off the new cake.
Where was it? Panic flared through her. Oh my God, had he swallowed it? He did eat pretty quickly. What would a three-hundred-dollar ring do to your body as it went through the digestive system? She held in her groan and started casually looking around the table for crumbs. Maybe it fell on the floor? She dropped her napkin and knelt. “Oops.”
Racing Toward Love: A Second Chance Romance Page 6