Ryan smiles warily as he tightens his grip around my body and whispers against my ear, “I have never felt this way in my life. I swear I will never let you go again!”
Watching him, I realize that this is our moment, our moment to hold on to what we had, hold on to us. I can’t deny what we had was good—complicated, but amazing. I don’t want to fight him anymore, and I no longer give a damn who knows that I have fallen under his spell.
Instead of making my own proclamation, I launch myself at him, wrapping my body around his. Ryan responds by engulfing me into a desperate embrace. I run my hands around his neck and up into his hair. He leans in and softly presses his lips to mine. The kiss ignites that feeling between us, and the softness leads to desperation as the floodgates to our emotions burst.
There is a delicious ache deep within my body that I know only Ryan can alleviate. Our bodies are gloriously intertwined by lips, legs, and arms.
Suddenly, Ryan pulls back from our embrace. He says breathlessly, “Say it!”
I am dumbfounded. “Say what?”
He looks at me warily. “I want to hear you say the words…tell me that you love me,” he says desperately.
I look deeply into his beautiful blue eyes. “I love you, Ryan.”
My profession renews our passion, and we are entangled again. I am lost. I am so overcome with relief, desire, and love that I am nauseous. I feel like I’m going to pass out from the intensity.
I cry out, “Oh!” Ryan immediately stops. I steady myself against him.
Ryan looks at me, concerned. “Am I hurting you?” he says, no doubt because of my accident.
I am so overwhelmed by the last six weeks, today, and tonight that I am overtaken by the emotions of the elapsed time period. My body cascades with a loud sob, and instantly tears pour from my eyes yet again.
Ryan holds me as I cry and makes no attempt to stop me. He silently consoles me, stroking my hair as we stay locked in a tight embrace. Finally, he sincerely says, “I will never, ever hurt you again.” With that promise, he sweeps me off my feet and softly lays my war-torn body down on the hotel bed.
Delicious memories of our first night together flash through my mind. We have come so far, and so much has happened since then. Ryan gently lays down beside me, careful of my healing leg. I watch him so intently, blinking rapidly to make sure that I am not dreaming, to make sure that he doesn’t disappear. I ache for him to touch me, but he doesn’t. He just looks at me. It makes me uneasy.
Finally, Ryan gently strokes the upper thigh of my broken leg. “How bad does it hurt?” he asks warily.
I shake my head because I don’t want to answer that. I am scared it will open the floodgates again. Instead I say, “It’s almost healed now. You can remove this cast.” I point to the straps of my walking boot, then pop the Velcro tabs and slowly remove it. My leg, foot, and toes are grossly swollen. Ryan shakes his head and looks away like he is distressed. “Hey…” I say softly. “I can take the physical pain over the emotional pain any day.”
Ryan looks back to me. “Whitney…”
I grasp his chin and angle his face so that he is looking at me in the eye. “We already rehashed this, remember?”
Ryan nods his head in agreement and places his hand over mine. We stare at each other in silence, not sure of the next move.
I move my hand from his chin to his cheek. “What did you tell me earlier?”
He looks at me, dumbfounded. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, signaling a wrong answer.
He tries again. “I love you?”
“Did you mean it?”
Ryan gets defensive. “Yes, I did!”
I smile at him wryly. “Then show me, damn it!”
Ryan obeys my request. We come together, and it feels so good. The rhythm of our bodies picks up like they never missed a beat. Ryan is careful and attentive of my healing body. He gently removes my clothes. I can feel the grime of the short track on my body, and there is tire rubber in my long brown locks, but I couldn’t care less. We are together. I remember it all: the attraction that pulled us together, the emotions and anger, and our physical chemistry when we made love. I let these feelings and sensations I had banished rush over my body. I writhe against Ryan’s skin with desire and desperate need.
Ryan takes his time like he is savoring every inch of my body and memorizing my curves. I am cloaked by his attentiveness, and his smell overtakes my senses, that glorious smell that is so intoxicating to my body.
I cry out, “Ryan,” and he pulls back and looks at me with concern. “I can’t take it. Please…I need you now.” My body is on fire with desire.
Ryan swiftly but gently obeys my command as he enters my body. We are one. A feeling of sudden relief comes over me. The relief of being able to reconnect to these feelings that I was scared were lost. I close my eyes and totally experience every kiss, every movement, every thrust. Ryan picks up his pace as if our inner emotions are the same. It is a heady, mixed feeling to be this intertwined with another person, body and soul.
Ryan’s hands caress my breasts, then move softly up and down my midsection. I feel my body quickening. I want to savor this moment completely filled up by him. I want to give him everything that I have. And now I know that I can’t live without him. With that inner confession, my body unloads with an intense orgasm that erupts over my entire body. Ryan follows immediately, calling out my name in desperation and reprieve.
* * *
In the back of my mind, I am broken from a calm and comforted contentment. I stir to the noise that has awakened me from a sweet sleep free from anxiety, guilt, pain, alcohol, and so many other variables that have taken over my body for the last six weeks. I realize it is my iPhone alarm that sounds out the time. I try to move to silence the aggravating disturbance, but I am trapped, gloriously trapped, under Ryan Carter.
Last night, Ryan said he would never let me go. I guess he meant it literally, too. I smile and breathe a sigh of relief.
Ryan stirs. “What the hell?”
It is way too early, I know. We have been asleep for only a few hours, but I have a plane to catch at 7:00 a.m. “My plane…” I say blearily as I grab my phone to switch the alarm off.
“Forget it! We will get home later,” Ryan responds sleepily.
I don’t even argue with him. I have no doubts that he will take care of our return to Charlotte. I snuggle back down into Ryan’s embrace. My mind, body, and soul are overtaken by feelings of relief and happiness. I am confident and sated in the fact that Ryan will take care of me.
Chapter 39
E ven though it is early Monday morning, I am all smiles. I shift and turn over in bed to face a peaceful, sleeping Ryan Carter. My movement stirs him slightly, but he doesn’t wake. I’m glad. I know he is exhausted, as am I. These last six weeks have taken a toll on us both. Not to mention our reconciliation in the early hours of the morning was a shocking eye-opener that left us both worn out.
Ryan loves me. Or so he says. It is a lot to take in, but I can’t think about that now. I don’t want to think about it now. I want to focus on my job and being happy with him. Forget the specifics.
Speaking of my job, I know I am late. Thankfully, we came to Ryan’s after we landed in Charlotte, so I don’t have far to drive to work. I lean over to softly kiss his shoulder, being careful not to wake him. I move to rise from the bed, and a strong arm reaches out for me. Ryan grabs my side and pulls me back into an embrace against his body. Oh!
Ryan groans softly. It is early, but I can feel that he wants me. “Don’t get up,” he says groggily.
I sigh. I don’t want to leave this secure spot either, but I have to get to the office.
“I have to get to work, or my boss will fire my ass,” I quip.
“I will fire your ass if you get up! Now, come here,” he says seductively.
And I am lost to him once again. There is no need to argue.
* * *
Despite Ryan’s dis
traction, I manage to make it to the office at a decent time. I am in an unusually good mood. I know everyone knows it from the looks I have been getting, but I smile, keeping my little secret to myself. Lunchtime finally arrives, and I am famished. With our ongoing backlog from Ryan’s suspension, I don’t have the luxury of taking an actual break to eat. I take a bite of my turkey sandwich that I brought from Ryan’s, when I hear a commotion outside my office door.
A distraught Jerri sticks her head through my office door. “Whitney! Get your things! It’s Garrett! We have to go now!” she yells.
I don’t think. I grab my bag and choke down the mouthful of my sandwich.
I stand up to go and am quickly reminded that I am not working on all cylinders, but I manage to catch up to Jerri in the hallway. It is hard for me to keep up with her because of the “boot,” but I scale down the stairs effortlessly on one foot. She remains silent, but the look on her face speaks volumes. We make it outside, quickly jump into her Mercedes SUV, and speed away.
On the drive, Jerri finally explains what I feared. With a sob in her throat, she says, “Garrett has had a heart attack! Or at least that is what they think! Ryan just found him out in the field.”
Ryan!
“Is he…?” I manage to mutter. Jerri shakes her head as if she doesn’t know.
I grab my purse and fumble for my iPhone. I scroll quickly to find Ryan’s number and press send. It goes straight to voice mail. Damn! I switch to text.
____________________
Ryan, I am on my way.
____________________
I am shaking with fear. Jerri and I sit in silence as we make our way to the Carolinas Medical Center. Jerri’s words come back to haunt me, “This situation is stressful for all of us, especially for Garrett since he has to come out of retirement to pick up the slack.”
Please don’t let this be the cause of his heart attack, I plead to myself.
We reach the emergency room in record time. Jerri pulls up at the entrance to drop me at the door. I grab my iPhone, leave my bag, and hoist myself up and out of the SUV. I hobble to the desk as quickly as I can and flash my GCR Racing Team credentials.
With an attitude, the nurse at the desk rolls her eyes at me. “That ain’t gonna get you through these doors, honey!” Then she laughs at herself like she is some kind of comedian. I lose it.
I go off on her with my uncouth no-brain-to-mouth-filter attitude that is normally reserved for Ryan only. “Excuse me, but I know you know the severity of this situation. My question is, why in the hell has the facility not been locked down?”
She blinks at me, dumbfounded. I got her attention. Good.
I continue my rampage. “It is only a matter of time before every paparazzo this side of the Mason-Dixon Line is crawling in this reception area with some type of false ailment to try to get back through these doors. So, I strongly advise that you get your supervisor in here to speak with me immediately.”
With that statement, I turn as I hear Jerri’s voice from behind me. “Whitney, I have the hospital CEO on the line now.”
I turn back to the smug nurse, who has quickly changed her attitude and is cowering back. I smile and raise my eyebrows at her. Take that!
Jerri is irreverently speaking to the CEO. Then, I hear instructions come over the loudspeaker about locking down the emergency room. I hear a buzzing sound, and we are ushered through the door into the treatment area.
Jerri presses the end button on her BlackBerry and turns to the nurse. “You will be getting further instructions from your supervisor. I suggest that you follow them to the letter!” she exclaims.
The nurse concedes like a scolded dog. Go Jerri!
We are ushered into a small waiting area by another nurse. Jerri says, “We have to wait here.”
I blink rapidly at her. “Like hell,” I snap. I stalk off from her to the nurses’ station, “Where is the restroom?” I ask a triage nurse.
She eyes me carefully, and I know she is on to me. I hold my ground and smile politely. She grants me a pass and directs me down the hallway toward the restroom.
I find the ladies’ room and duck in momentarily in case she is watching me. After a beat, I stick my head into the hallway. All clear! I make my way down a back corridor as quickly as I can. I look to my left and right, nothing. I walk quickly to the next corridor. Down the right wing at the very end, I see Ryan sitting on the floor.
Ryan is sitting outside a door with his knees pulled up to his chest. His head is in his arms. He looks so young. The closer I get, I realize that he is sobbing. I cry out, and my audible gasp grabs his attention. I break out in a full-on run to him. The pain in my leg is no match for heartbreak I am feeling for Ryan right now.
Ryan flies up from the floor and envelops me in a desperate embrace. I begin to cry with him as we sink back down to the floor. He sobs into my hair, and I let him. I don’t know what to say or how to comfort him. This is something that I have never had to deal with.
After a few minutes that seem like hours, Ryan begins to speak. “Whitney…I…I was too late! He’s dead!” he exclaims like he has been bulldozed.
“Oh my God, no!” I exclaim. I am desperate for words, but I am devastated, too. This cannot be happening. Garrett had so much faith in me.
Ryan and I sit on the floor of the hallway in silence. “I thought you were watching the race highlights with him this morning?” I question, remembering our conversation this morning as I left for the office. Ryan was supposed to have breakfast with his dad and go over the race. This is their ritual every Monday morning.
Ryan sighs. “I called him this morning. We had breakfast, but he said there was no need to watch the film. He said to me, ‘Son, there is nothing that I can tell you that you don’t already know. I am so proud of you and how you have turned this season around despite the accident.’” Ryan pauses. “Then, he said he had work to do out in the field before the rain came in today.” He shakes his head. “It was strange for him because we do this every week, but I didn’t realize it at the time.”
I reach out to grasp his hand.
“Mom called me when he didn’t come in for lunch. So, I set out to where he was working on constructing a dam for the pond.” He pauses again, and my chest constricts with pain for him. “He was sitting on the tractor, limp and not moving. But, I…I was too late.” He shakes his head, and tears fall anew.
Fighting back my own tears, I stand up with new determination. I have to be strong for Ryan and for our organization. Then it hits me. “Ryan, your mom?”
He looks toward the door. “She is inside with him. She wanted to be alone with him.”
As he utters those words, Ryan’s mom opens the door and walks out to us. She has no life in her eyes, but manages to give me a weak smile. Ryan lets go of me to grab her because she looks like she is about to fall over. He looks at me, grief stricken, like he doesn’t know what to do next either. Instantly, I know what I have to do!
I take hold of them both and usher them back to the waiting area where Jerri sits. She looks distraught as we enter the small, dimly lit room. I know she knows.
I take charge of the situation. My first call is to Max. I take out my iPhone and select his personal cell phone from my contact list. The phone rings once, and Max says, “Hey Whitney!”
I sigh into the phone remembering how Ryan contracted with him to watch over me after my accident. “Hi,” I murmur.
“Everything OK…?”
“No…I need you. Can you come to Carolinas Medical Center now?” And I reveal to him the most heartbreaking news of my life. Even Max is choked up. I can hear it in his voice.
I secure his staff immediately. He reassures me that he is on his way to the hospital for a private escort back to Mooresville. Then, I coordinate with the hospital staff, prepare a small public statement requesting privacy, and secure a back exit. I have to get us all out of here, and quickly, before the paparazzi descend on us yet again.
Chapter 40
It is late. I am grateful that Ryan wanted to come home tonight. We have not left his parents’ home since Monday. I follow Ryan into his house down the corridor that is lined with racing photos of him and Garrett. Normally, I look at the photos because each time I see something different, but tonight, I can’t look at them. Ryan is unnervingly quiet, which is the way he has been for the last few days. I can’t blame him. He has been through one of the most traumatic events a person can face, the loss of a parent. I have no idea of how to console him, but I have not left his side.
Ryan turns on the kitchen light and walks over to the refrigerator. I stand watching him sympathetically. Even after these few days, I still have no earthly idea of what to say. My heart aches for him. He jerks the sub-zero door open and grabs a beer. His sudden movement takes me by surprise. Exhausted, I slowly step out of my one black heel and lean over to unlatch the straps on my walking boot.
To say this week has been exhausting would be the understatement of the century. Since Garrett’s death on Monday, I have been solely working public relations for the family at Laura’s request. The office has been completely shut down, and the GCR teams will not compete this weekend at Chicagoland due to bereavement. There has been a horde of people in and out of Ryan’s family home, not to mention private services for the family, including a wake, and another public memorial service for Garrett’s fans.
It exhausts me to replay it all in my mind. And the mere fact that I planned it all for Laura and Ryan is inconceivable. But there was no way they could have done it alone. The shock and grief are more than anyone can bear right now. I have been by Ryan’s side, but have kept a close distance due to prying eyes. No one else knows that Ryan and I have reconciled except for his mother and, sadly, Garrett.
I had planned to take some time to rest this afternoon, but Ryan insisted that I attend the private interment, for immediate family only, on the Carter plot on the farm. He was extremely adamant about me going, which was confusing. It should have been a private time for Ryan and his mother. I could not figure out why he wanted me there so badly. I guess it was mainly for moral support. My thoughts remind me that even my brain is too tired to function right now.
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