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Full Throttle(22)



“Sure,” he said, looking around in vain for a place on the busy pit road to talk.

“I’ll go stall the reporter,” James said, then jogged off.

“Let’s walk,” Lexie said.

It was still a little early for the fan mobs, but Kane still didn’t see how they were going to stroll to the hauler without being interrupted twelve times.

“How about the pit box?” he suggested instead.

She shrugged, so he led the way.

They weaved through the crowd of mechanics, pit crews, reporters and other drivers—and got stopped twice by members of other teams—before they reached their pit and climbed the ladder to the box where Lexie and Harry watched the race and commanded the team.

He realized in that moment that his and Lexie’s chemistry wasn’t just personal. It extended to their relationship as driver and car chief. He’d spent a lot of the season aggravated when she pushed him, or told him he needed to find his passion before his career nosedived, but she’d been right about him suppressing his emotions too often. Her leadership was making him a better driver.

Smiling, he sat in the swivel chair next to Lexie. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. No.” She waved her hand. “Everything’s fine with the race.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “I’m sorry I butted in earlier. Your relationship with your father is your business, not mine.”

He laid his hand on her thigh. “I’m glad you care enough to worry about me.”

She looked around apprehensively. “Kane, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Talking?”

“Touching.”

“No one can see us up here.”

“Except the members of forty-two other racing teams.”

“They’re not interested in us.”

“Or the 4,236 cameras at the track.”

“You’re paranoid.”

“Yes.”

He leaned close and brushed his thumb along her jawline. “I thought we were discussing how much you care about me.”

“You’re killing me here.”

He wished he could see her eyes. “I’m trying to arouse you.”

“We have a race in a few hours.”

“Don’t we always?”

“I just wanted to apologize.”

“I’m accepting.”

“The flowers you left in my room were beautiful.”

He hadn’t sent a note, but he’d hoped she would realize who the yellow and red roses were from. “Yellow is for remembrance. I looked it up. I added the red for luck—for the team and to remind you there are other couples in NASCAR who race together.”

There were wives and girlfriends who played significant roles in drivers’ careers. Back in the day, a lot of the wives even kept the scoring books for the teams. Lexie’s job might be even more critical, but if those guys could manage it, so could he and Lexie. “Have you thought about dinner?”

“I haven’t really had time.”

“Especially since it takes so much effort to avoid me.”

“I haven’t been avoiding you. We’ve both been busy.”

He stuffed his ego and reminded himself he couldn’t expect her to spend every moment of the day thinking about him. She had as much, if not more, responsibility as he did.

She laid her hand over his, and his pulse jumped. “I’m trying to do my job.”

“And I’m making it more difficult.”

“Not on purpose. I just don’t want our personal relationship to get in the way of the race.”

He reached out and slid her sunglasses off her face. When her gaze met his, he saw the same warring emotions he’d seen for weeks in his mirror. Desire and responsibility. Longing and caution. She wanted him. She just didn’t want to want him. “Do we have a personal relationship?”

“We could, but—” She glanced off in the distance. “I’m scared of falling for you, Kane. I can’t go through that again.”

“It’ll be different this time,” he said, though he wasn’t sure himself. He just knew he was different.

And while he was sure he’d never be smart enough or sophisticated enough to measure up to her, he wanted to try. He wanted to make up for the past and see if their future could be one to share.

“Instead of dinner,” he said, “how about a party at my house? To celebrate making the top ten.”

“When?”

Whenever James can get things together. “Sunday night.”

“Is the rest of the team coming?”

“Sure.” A party with familiar people might take the pressure off their first official date in twelve years. “But I want you there with me.” When she hesitated, he continued, “I need something, Lexie. I need something from you that convinces me I’m not making a complete idiot out of myself.”

She had his body in a knot, his head spinning. He couldn’t let her walk away from them again. They could make it work this time.



LEXIE KNEW she’d have to make a decision soon, and now the time had come. She’d been protecting herself—and the team.

But mostly herself.

“There’s a lot at stake.”

“I know.”

She squeezed his hand. So many emotions rolled through her where Kane was concerned. They had a great deal of compromising to do to make their relationship work. A calmer, easygoing, more mature Kane would help make that happen. But could he be that man and still be a fierce competitor on the track? Could they have any hope of making a relationship work and still race together?

She thought of the warnings her father had given her earlier in the week, but ignoring her feelings certainly wasn’t making them go away. And though no one would approve, and she might be making a serious career and personal mistake, she could no longer deny them a second chance.

If she got her heart broken again? Well, hell, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“I’ll come to the party,” she said quietly. “For you. Not just for the team.”

His eyes lit with pleasure. “Wear that black dress?”

She laughed, the warmth of his hand against hers infusing her with confidence. “I don’t think so.”

“You can take it off anytime you want.”

It felt good to see his smile. The tension between them the past few weeks had made her forget how to relax with him. “No kidding. Anytime?”

He slid his hand higher up her leg. “Anytime.”

“Hey, buster, that’s still your car chief’s thigh. You have a race to run, so you’d better get your mind back there.”

His grin widened. “But my mind is happy where it is.”

“In the gutter, no doubt.” She stood. They both had a million things still to do. “What are we going to tell everybody?”

“Nothing. It’s none of their business.”

Skeptical, she stared at him. “You’re not going to say anything to James?”

“Maybe him, and everybody else will find out eventually. But let’s avoid your father. He, uh, warned me off a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah? He did the same thing to me.”

“Hey, Oil Man! Nice run!”

Lexie turned and looked down to see driver Bobby Cashman, one of their Hollister Racing teammates, walking by with some of his crew members.

“Stay off my bumper tonight, dude!” Kane yelled back as he stood. “I’m winning this one.”

Cashman and his buddies burst into laughter.

Lexie watched them move farther down pit road, but she spoke to Kane. “You’ve got to beat him.”

“He’s a teammate. Shouldn’t I cut him some slack?”

“You shouldn’t cut anybody slack tonight.”

“I know, I know. Fierce driving.”

“Definitely. And keep in mind that I bet a hundred bucks on you with Cashman’s crew chief.”

He laid his hands over his heart. “Oh, baby, I’m so touched.”

“And cut out the baby stuff. We’re working.”

“Yes, chief.”

She shoved his shoulder lightly. “Go to your interview. I’ve got a meeting with my father, and some online shopping to do.” She headed down the ladder.

“Shopping? You?”

She smiled up at him. “I wonder if Victoria’s Secret delivers overnight?”



HOW WAS A MAN supposed to drive a race car at 180 miles an hour with forty-two other guys and think about lingerie at the same time?

How was a man supposed to concentrate on remembering the names of key executives at Cookie, Inc., as they hosted the prerace dinner for him and the team? How was a man supposed to answer his mother’s questions about why the engines had to be so loud?

Simple. He wasn’t.

Focus was as much a part of his job as breathing. Lexie knew this. Yet she still smiled at him from across the sky box as if she knew some secret he didn’t. She’d twitched her hips as she climbed down that ladder this morning and had him fantasizing about what exactly she wore underneath her uniform.

Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.

“I know about the big engines, dear,” his mother said. “But why does it make that horrible noise?”

Damned if he could remember. He was too busy watching Lexie’s glossed lips move as she talked to James.

“The fans like it,” he managed to respond.

She shuddered. “They’re all going deaf.”