Full Throttle(18)

He grabbed her hands and pulled her against him, then ducked around the corner of the building. The valets and arriving customers gave them curious looks.

She jerked her hands from his. “Go home.”

He wanted to grow closer to Lexie, not further apart. For their roles as driver and car chief, communication was critical. For any personal relationship they might have, it was even more important. The problem was separating the two. Which relationship meant more to him? Which one couldn’t he sacrifice? Did he want his Lexie as a car chief or as a woman?

He wanted both. But he wanted the woman more.

“Have dinner with me,” he said, stepping close but not touching her.

“Dinner?” She angled her head. “We have the team dinner and RC car race Thursday night.”

“Not with the team. Just us.”

A yearning sparked in her eyes, then she dropped her gaze to the ground. “That’s not a good idea.”

He’d taken her for granted once, and she didn’t trust him not to repeat that mistake. He’d played into her worries by resisting commitment beyond seduction. He’d planned to get her out of his system and move on.

What would happen if they actually had a serious relationship again? Was he simply afraid they’d fail? Or was he afraid he would never measure up to her standards?

And how would it affect the people in their lives? If they had a serious relationship, his father wouldn’t be happy. Then what if it fell apart again? Harry wouldn’t be happy.

What if they made themselves happy? What if he concentrated on her—instead of everybody else?

She wasn’t a woman who slept with men indiscriminately, just for the hell of it. Like he would. His “one night” offer had been a cop-out. She possessed loyalty and subtlety and deep-seated love and passion. She didn’t go for the moment; she held out for the future. For a man who would treasure her.

He desperately wanted to be that man. He just wasn’t sure he could be.

But he knew one thing for certain. If he wanted Lexie, he had to be prepared to commit to her. He could no longer tell himself—or her—they were just going for physical indulgence, without all those messy emotions getting in the way.

Maybe he wouldn’t measure up to Lexie’s standards, the way he never had with his father. But he was through standing back and pretending she didn’t matter to him.

Relationships were messy. Especially the ones that counted the most.

“I know I haven’t been doing this right, but that’s going to change.” He drew a deep breath. “I’m not going to give up on us again. I know the timing’s lousy, and I know your dad, my dad, the team and anybody else we asked would probably tell us to cool it. But I don’t want to. I can’t.”

Her gaze softened as she met his. The struggle he felt was just as evident on her face. “I don’t know, Kane. We’re so close to the championship.”

“It’ll always be there.” He reached for her hand, but she stepped back. “Have dinner with me.”

“Like a date.”

“Exactly like a date. I’ll come to your door and pick you up and bring flowers.” He gave her a mock leer. “I suggest you wear exactly what you have on.”

She brushed her hand down the front of the dress. “You like it?”

“I do. But then, I always think you’re beautiful.”

“Since when?”

Ouch. Had he really been that lax with compliments? “Since always.”

“You seem more into blondes these days.”

He was going to shoot James. “James set up lunch with that woman. I didn’t even know she was coming.”

“You seemed happy enough she had, though.”

Jealousy? He bit his tongue to keep from smiling. He was damn tired of being the only one turning green every five minutes. Somehow, though, he didn’t think his happiness would go over well with Lexie. She looked as if she’d rather punch him than go out with him at the moment.

“I’m not interested in her,” he said, leaning close. “I’m interested in you.”

She drew in a swift breath. “I can’t think with you standing so close.” She tried to step back again, but she’d already retreated so far, she met the alleyway’s brick wall.

While he knew he had to start thinking with his brain rather than more-southern regions, he had no intention of forgetting Lexie wanted him physically, even if her conscience was resisting. He had to work every advantage possible.

He leaned over her, bracing his arms on the wall on either side of her head but not touching her. Heat sprang to life between them. His heartbeat picked up speed.

Her eyes widened with alarm, plus a touch of desire. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Reminding you.”

“Of what?”

“Good times we had. It wasn’t all arguments and breakups.”

She licked her lips, nervously it seemed. “I never said it was.”

“Remember the races where we sneaked out behind the garage?”

“With James playing watchdog.”

He still remembered the taste of her on his lips. She used to coat them in bubble-gum-flavored gloss, and he did his best to lick it off every chance he got.

“That was a long time ago,” she said.

“We could make new memories.”

“Maybe we could,” she said slowly, her gaze searching his. “But not tonight. I was having fun.”

The until you showed up was left mercifully unspoken.

“Let me go back—alone—and I’ll think about dinner.”

No way, was his first thought. Not back into the pool of smiling, flirting sharks. He tamped down the impulse to grab her and hold her against him where she belonged. She wasn’t a vulnerable teenager anymore. She was a grown woman, one who’d tapped into her feminine power and wasn’t about to let him call all the shots.

He had to learn to let her set the pace, learn to be a partner not a director. Or he was going to lose her again.

Like a gentleman from another age, he bowed. “As you wish, m’lady.”

That, at least, earned him a grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, ducking under his arm and scooting around him.

“Yes, you most definitely will.”





CHAPTER EIGHT




“THANKS FOR COMING,” Kane said as he slid his signed photo across the table toward a waiting fan.

“Good luck tomorrow night,” the guy said, grinning proudly beneath his red and yellow Sonomic Oil ball cap.

Kane smiled back. “Thanks, man. We’ll do our best.”

Even though it was Friday night and the rest of the world was just now getting off work, the NASCAR world had been cranked up for the weekend since Wednesday when the garage had opened. Kane had practiced and qualified, then been sent to his sponsor’s hospitality tent, where he’d answered questions, shaken the hands of executives and signed autographs.

Part of him would rather be relaxing in his motor coach or working on his plan to get Lexie to go out with him—she hadn’t mentioned his dinner invitation since Tuesday night. But he never forgot the people who put him in a NASCAR NEXTEL Cup driver’s seat. He never forgot who bought tickets to the races, or his hats, T-shirts and collectibles.

The fans bought his sponsors’ products. They allowed him to do what he loved. They supported him—win or lose.

“Hi, who should I—” He stopped when he glanced up into the cleavage of a well-endowed fan. “Uh, make this out to,” he finished lamely.

She leaned over, and he swallowed. They were in real danger of this family event becoming R-rated in just another inch or two.

“I’m Ashley,” she said in a breathy voice.

Kane didn’t ask her for the spelling. He needed to get her moving before the seams of her skin-tight tank top popped under the pressure.

“I think you’re amazing,” she continued.

“Oh, ah, thanks.” He signed a photo, then handed it back with a vague smile. “Here you go.”

She smiled slyly. “Anytime you want to party in Richmond, call me.”

“Thanks again,” he said, wondering if he’d have to hail down James for help.

Ashley-the-Buxom slid a card across the table. The sponsor rep assisting Kane immediately snapped it up. Obviously, James and his protective army of helpers had noticed something off about the exchange with this fan. “Thanks so much for coming,” the sponsor rep said nicely but firmly.

As the next person in line came forward, Kane winked over his shoulder at his savior. With her brown hair, confident smile and professional navy suit jacket, she reminded him of Lexie.

But then, he hardly drew a breath these days without thinking of Lexie.

As usual, she’d ducked out of the sponsor function early. She was probably at the hotel, hovering over her laptop.

He also couldn’t help thinking about Ashley—and women he’d known like her. There were times he and James had collected cards and phone numbers. Recently, even before he’d kissed Lexie and unbalanced his universe, the whole idea of women he didn’t know who came on to him made him uncomfortable. What did these women really want from him? What did he want from them? Didn’t he want more from his relationships?

Not that he didn’t like to look at beautiful women, but some of them were just plain scary.