“I feel fine, Momma,” Tracey murmured. “Will one of you let Daddy and Declan in before they break the door down. “I’m staying here, Momma. I’ll be fine. There are so many racers here that I’ll be old news in no time.”
“We’ll see sweetheart,” she called out walking over to the door to let her husband and son in.
“Why are you all making so much fuss?” Barbara asked them as she opened the door.
“We got cornered by a bunch of reporters,” Declan said. “We bought Tracey some food.”
“Really?” Tracey questioned. “I thought you hated me.”
“I don’t hate you, Tracey. You’re my sister. Not only that, you’re my twin,” Declan said.
“I’m glad you remember,” she muttered.
“What does that mean?” he barked.
“Will you two be quiet?” Her father demanded. “This bickering is getting on my nerves. Tracey, we’re sorry for busting in here on you like that. Now will you take the olive branch that your brother is trying to extend to you and be happy?”
“What about you?” she asked her father.
“Don’t push your luck, young lady. I’m still your father,” he said slowly.
Not saying anything, she followed her brother over to the little table where he was emptying the contents of the bags. “Thank you,” Tracey murmured. “What is it?”
“There’re pancakes, bacon, eggs, sausage and orange juice. There’s coffee and tea as well. I got both because I didn’t know which you’d prefer,” Declan smiled at her. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay I guess.” She smiled back at him. “I was more shook up than hurt.”
“Good. You think you’ll be okay to compete?” he asked with real concern.
Tracey heaved a heavy sigh. “Yes, Declan. I’m not dropping out of the race.”
“Did I ask you to?” he shot back.
“Please. You want your boy Daniel to win this race and you know it,” she snorted.
“I knew it was too good to be true,” their mother said. “What am I going to do with you two?”
“Tracey I was merely asking after your well-being. Do you honestly think I’d put Daniel over my own sister?” he continued as if he hadn’t heard his mother.
Tracey quirked her brow. “Are you serious?” she snorted.
“Let me rephrase that. I would never put Daniel over your well-being. I’m a business man, Tracey, but regardless, we’re still blood,” he barked.
“You make me wonder, Declan,” Tracey whispered.
“You know I wouldn’t. Now eat,” he demanded. “You look like crap.”
“Geez, thanks a lot. You know I could have just as well ordered from room service,” she said, taking the containers from him.
“You’re welcome,” he said, sitting down at the table next to her. “So what happened on the track yesterday?”
Tracey gave her brother a rundown of what had happened. “I’m telling you everything was fine and then boom. I don’t know what happened.”
“Thank God you weren’t hurt. I don’t like this racing thing, baby. I know this is your dream, but couldn’t you just collect some dolls or something?” her mother asked.
“Eww,” both Tracey and Samantha said simultaneously.
“I give up,” Barbara Powell said throwing up her hands. “I have two daughters that race things and a son that sits in an office. I just don’t get it. J.D., this has to come from your side of the family.”
“Why my side?” he asked throwing up his hands.
“Because my people just don’t do things like this,” she huffed.
“Sure they don’t. I guess that was my sister mountain climbing with strangers?” he retorted.
“Bernadette is considered the black sheep in the family; she doesn’t count,” Barbara complained.
“She’s your twin, honey,” he laughed. “And let’s not forget I was against this racing thing from the beginning. You were the one that wanted the girls to explore their ‘creative’ side. Well, you can’t get any more creative than this.”
“We’re not identical twins. So there,” Barbara countered, and they all laughed, knowing that their mother had been bested.
“Okay, people, it’s been fun but I really need to rest a bit more before I get my day started. I have a lot to get done,” Tracey said, finishing off the last piece of bacon.
“Just what are you trying to prove, Tracey?” Declan asked.
“I’m not trying to prove anything, Declan. I am going to win this year’s Royale Cup race,” she said confidently.
“You and I both know you can’t beat Shane,” he snorted.
“Maybe not, but I’m sure as hell going to give it my best shot. So I’d tell Daniel not to be doing any celebrating,” she snickered.
“Tracey, regardless of how you may feel about the man, you’re both on the same team,” Declan said.
“Are we? Humph, maybe you should tell him that. I have to take a shower. I have a meeting with one of my sponsors in an hour. Don’t want to be late. Mommy…Daddy, I’ll talk to you soon,” she said getting up and placing a kiss on both her parents’ cheeks before turning to her sister. “Ready for this, sis?”
“Of course, let’s do this,” Sam chuckled, giving Tracey a high-five.
“Oh goodness, I feel faint.” Their mother pretended to swoon.
“Well faint on the way home,” Tracey laughed. “I’m sure you don’t want to fall out in this hotel room.”
“And that’s another thing. Why not stay at one of Maximillian’s hotels? I think you go out of your way to provoke us,” her father chimed in.
“Daddy, this hotel is just as good as Maximillian’s. It’s closer to the track and more convenient. Stop being a snob. It could have been worse. Most times I’m in a motor coach. As far as I’m concerned this is the Grand Hyatt,” Tracey admonished. “Goodbye, family.”
“I’ll call you later, Tracey,” Declan said.
“Sure. Whatever you say, Declan.” She smiled, shaking her head.
With that they all took their leave—leaving Tracey staring at the closed door.
“I love my family, but they can all be a bit overbearing at times,” Tracey said to the empty room, and then turned and grabbled some underwear and headed for the shower. “Shane, Shane, Shane, from the first time I met you a few years ago, I’ve been getting into trouble. The key is to stay away from you.” He was right whenever they were alone with one another they found themselves in bed together. “Oh Well, I am planning on beating the fineness out of him on that track.”
Chapter Four
Shane left the media circus behind and headed home. He’d purchased his property in North Carolina a while ago. Although he was rarely there, it was still good to know that when he was home…it was actually home. Living in motor coaches and hotel rooms most of the year was starting to weigh on his nerves. Having an actual place to unwind away from the circuit was rewarding.
He pulled up in front of the wrought iron gate and pressed the remote. The gates opened for him to enter. He’d had to install the gates after a groupie had broken into his home and was lying in his bed stark naked one night. After unsuccessfully trying to get her out of his house, Shane had then called the sheriff and had her bodily removed.
“Ah, home sweet home,” he sighed, driving through the opened gate and pressing the button so that the gate closed after him. Shane pulled up in front of his three-story house and noticed Adam’s car was already parked out front. He knew his brother would have a million and one questions, none of which he was prepared to answer at the moment. Shane got out of his car with a groan. “Let the show begin,” he said to himself, as he walked through the front door.
“The man of the hour is here, or should I say after almost 24 hours?” Adam jested.
“I’m beginning to hate that I gave you access to my home, brother,” Shane snorted. “So what brings you to my humble abode?”
“No, you don’t. You love it when I drop in. Just wonderin
g what my older brother’s been up to in the past 24 hours? Inquiring minds wants to know,” he teased.
“I thought I told you yesterday to mind your own business. Still stands,” Shane said, walking over to a nearby table and depositing his keys on it. He then walked into his kitchen, opened the fridge and took out a beer, popped the lid, leaned back with his back on the island and took a long swig.
“You know that you’re not supposed to be swigging that right now,” Adam said in a bored voice.
“There are a lot of things I’m not supposed to be doing…haven’t stopped me thus far,” Shane said sarcastically.
“You wouldn’t happen to be talking about the lovely Tracey Powell? Would you?” Adam smiled.
“I’m not ‘doing’ Tracey, you knucklehead,” Shane snapped.
“I didn’t say you were ‘doing’ her. I asked if you were talking about her. There’s a difference,” Adam mocked.
“I wasn’t speaking of Tracey, Adam,” he exhaled.
“Umm, hmm, tell me anything. I’ll believe you. NOT,” Adam chuckled.
“Adam don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Shane grumbled.
“No place a’tall,” he drawled out, going to rest against the Island next to Shane.
“You are determined to be a pain in my ass today, aren’t you?” Shane mumbled.
“Hmm, interesting choice of words, brother,” Adam chided.
“Not going there with you, Adam. I need a shower and a nap. These reporters are being a pain in my backside,” he said placing his empty beer bottle on the countertop, and walking away.
“No can do, Shane. You have a meeting with the sponsors in one hour,” Adam said with a shake of his head.
“Hell, I forgot about that,” he swore swiping his hand across his face. “I thought you said you didn’t have anywhere to be?”
“I don’t. You do. Not like you to forget something like that. I wonder what—or should I say ‘who’s?’—the cause of this travesty,” Adam joshed.
“You know, you’re a real pain in the neck. I’ll be ready in 10. Please no more sponsors or anything else until I get some rest,” Shane murmured, walking in the direction of his bedroom.
“After the sponsor meeting, you have the appearance at the children’s hospital for a meeting with the director,” his brother advised. “Sorry, sport.”
“Oh hell,” Shane sighed. “Who booked this back-to-back thingy, anyway?”
“You did. I tried to tell you that it wasn’t a good idea. But since it was last minute and it was for the kids you agreed. So get a move on. You’re already running late,” Adam said, his tone becoming serious.
“Yeah. I’m coming. Give me a few. I’ll drive over with you just to save time—if you don’t mind?” Shane muttered.
“Not a problem,” Adam replied. “Just hurry up.”
Shane didn’t bother to respond. He just continued in the direction of his bedroom, pulling his t-shirt over his head on the way. Adam was taking over most of his schedule from Chuck. Shane had to admit, his brother was good at setting up his appearances and coordinating with his sponsors. Adam’s jet-setting ways were finally paying off for something good. His contacts and connections were endless. Adam was a good businessman and brother.
Reaching his bedroom Shane gave a heavy sigh as he stepped out of his tennis shoes and sock, stripped off the rest of his clothes and headed for the shower, stepping in, and turning the water on full blast. Picking up the soap he began to lather his body, while at the same time allowing his stiffened muscles to relax under the warm spray of the water. His body relaxing a little bit at a time, Shane began to think back on the events leading up to today’s barrage of reporters.
Shane wondered what Tracey was doing now? Had the reporters cornered her as well? He’d tried calling her at the hotel but wasn’t able to get through. No doubt the hotel staff had redirected all of her calls because of the reporters, and he didn’t have her cell phone number. That had to change. He would get her cell number. The lovely Tracey was not getting rid of him that easily. She wanted space to compete and he would abide by her wishes…sort of. Shane had no intentions of not being between her silken thighs again for months. That was out of the question. The feel of her long legs wrapped around him as he pushed in and out of her sent shivers of awareness down his spine. His body began to harden. His erection was more prominent.
“Damn, I have to stop thinking about her. I have things to do today, and I can’t do them in a constant state of hard-on,” he murmured. That’s surely the condition he’d be in if he his mind kept going in the direction of Tracey Powell.
The sound of his brother’s booming voice jerked Shane out of his musings. “Let’s go, Shane!”
“Shit,” Shane whispered, quickly grabbing his shampoo bottle, putting a healthy amount on his hair, and swiftly rinsing it out. While he was at it, he also rinsed the soap from his body. Turning the water off, he stepped out of the shower, grabbed a fluffy white towel and dried his hair and body off. Shane hurriedly dressed and rushed out of his room to a waiting Adam.
“I thought you’d drowned in there for a minute bro,” Adam kidded.
“Be quiet, Adam, and let’s get this little show on the road,” Shane countered, grabbing up his house keys.
“After you,” Adam said.
“No after you,” Shane responded. “You’re driving and I have to lock up.”
Shane remotely set his alarm as he followed Adam out, closing and locking up after them.
They both climbed into Adam’s low slung Porsche Carrera and drove off.
“Nice ride,” Shane remarked.
“Thank you. I like it,” Adam smiled.
“How many do you have now?” Shane asked.
“How many what do I have?” Adam asked.
“Cars? You seem to be collecting them. You have a new one every few months or so,” Shane said.
“Humph. I love cars. Always have. Always will. But you know that already, so why the interest now?” Adam asked.
“Just wondering how you can afford them is all,” Shane drawled.
“Don’t be obtuse. You know damn well where I get my money,” Adam snorted. “Just because you choose to let yours collect dust doesn’t mean that I have to.”
“My money is not collecting dust. I’m just saving for when I need it. That’s all,” Shane snickered.
“Really? Saving, Shane? What are you planning on buying, a small country or something?” Adam replied sarcastically.
“Stop exaggerating, Adam. It’s not that much money,” Shane grumbled.
“Shane you have your inheritance from the gramps, the money you’ve collected over the years from your racing, and endorsements. Just what are you saving up for anyway?”
“Mind your business Adam. Besides, I’m thinking of giving up racing,” he blurted out and winced as Adam’s car veered off the roadway.
“What the hell, Adam!” Shane yelled.
“Sorry,” Adam said righting the car. “What do you mean you’re thinking of giving up racing?”
“Just what I said. It’s time for me to settle down. Maybe get married. Have few Shanes or Shanettes.” He smiled.
“Shanes and Shanettes? Married? Huh? What the what?” Adam asked perplexed. “Please tell me you’re not serious.”
“As a heart attack,” Shane grunted. “What’s so wrong with me wanting to settle down and have a family?”
“Nothing, I guess,” Adam murmured. “It’s just…you’re only in your early 30’s. Why now? Why not wait?”
“Wait for what? I don’t want to be too old to play with any children that I may have. I’ve done almost any and everything. Have traveled the world—had plenty of women. Now I’m ready to settle down and start a family. It’s time. I feel it,” Shane smiled.
“Damn, I didn’t see that one coming,” Adam mumbled under his breath.
“I didn’t either, brother. I didn’t either,” Shane whispered to himself.
Shane remain
ed quiet. His thoughts immediately shifted to last night. Spending time with Tracey last night and this morning had him feeling giddy. Like a kid in a candy store. For the first time since he’d started racing he wished that the race was over already. He knew Tracey was serious about not seeing him until after the races were over. Shane hoped he could last that long. He doubted it, but he would try. Laying his head back on the headrest, Shane gave a long drawn out sigh.
“Why the long sigh?” Adam asked.
“Just thinking,” Shane responded, closing his eyes.
“You don’t say. Appears you’ve been doing a lot of that lately—thinking” was Adam’s sarcastic reply.
“Shut up and drive, Adam.” Shane snapped, cutting his eyes over at his brother.
Chapter Five
Tracey pushed her way through the sundry of reporters to the main entrance of the Levine’s Children’s Hospital. Damn you Shane! she thought. She’d never in a million years expected him to show up at her hotel room door. Not only did he show up at her door but they’d had mind blowing sex. She never could resist his sex appeal. Just when she’d finally convinced herself that she’d gotten Shane out of her system, he went and pulled a stunt like that.
Ugh, why couldn’t I resist him? She taunted herself.
“Ms. Powell care to comment on the rumors of you and fellow racer Shane Westbrook being an item?”
Tracey was jolted out of her deep thoughts of Shane by a microphone being pushed in front of her face.
Oh brother, she thought. Here we go again.
Tracey tried to ignore the waiting members of the press by walking faster, but they were like bees to honey…one reporter after another was swarming around her…all with microphones in their hands. It was a good thing she’d worn her flats. Her hair was in her signature ponytail that went nicely with her well-worn blue-jeans, a button down, white collared shirt, tied at the waist.
“No comment,” she blurted out, picking up her pace.
“So you’re saying that the two of you are a couple?” Another pushy reporter stated.
“No, that’s what you said. I said no comment. Excuse me,” Tracey barked stepping around another reporter. Every time Tracey sidestepped one reporter another appeared.
Race for Redemption Page 3