Full Throttle(28)

Their careers and reputations were seriously on the line now. As teenagers they’d worried about their fathers catching them, but young love had made them bold and blind to any true consequences. Now there was no denying the risks they were flouting.

Maybe Kane wasn’t worried. Racing was a wild, risky profession. Was she just another risk to take? Another challenge to overcome?

She had to prepare for that possibility, but she knew, regardless of his feelings for her, she’d gone and done it again—fallen hard.

Fast. Sure. Completely.

Without him she was pretty sure she wouldn’t draw another easy breath. With him she wondered if breathing would be even harder.

She’d longed for an accountant, a lawyer, a waiter. She’d gotten none of those. As a teenager, she’d fallen in love with a race car driver, and, truth be told, she’d never fallen out.

With a quiet giggle, she pushed aside that practical, think-of-everybody-before-yourself side and indulged in happiness. A long time had passed since she’d felt this content. As she basked in the glow of reunion  , she remembered a time when she and Kane had been wrapped in each other’s arms as young lovers and looked out on this same lake.

They’d shared so much together. The disappointment of his football days dying. The birth of his enthusiasm for NASCAR. The hopes for their future together. The sadness when their love had been overwhelmed by careers, jealousy, arguments.

She’d lost the love of her life, but somehow she and Kane had formed a new bond. She felt the same in some ways, and completely different in others. Her emotions were all over the place—blissful, exhilarated, worried. They’d changed and grown up, but would things really be better this time?

Could Kane love her? Real, true, deep love? The love of his life?

“Can’t sleep?” he asked softly.

She turned to see him standing in the doorway, his hair wavy and mussed, wearing only his jeans. She swallowed hard and had to look away before she could answer him. “I’m just thinking.”

“Regrets already?”

“No,” she answered truthfully. She didn’t regret. She dreaded.

Big difference.

But with him so close and their renewed intimacy still lingering in the air, she had no intention of dwelling on her fears at the moment. She held out her hand. “Join me?”

He cast a glance back—at the bed, no doubt—then sat on the swing, pulling her back against his warm chest.

“It’s quiet,” she said.

“Probably why so many drivers live out here.”

“You?”

“Yeah. The isolation is nice.” He stroked his fingers down her bare arm. “And sometimes lousy.”

She recalled many Sunday nights she’d sat on her own back porch and wondered where everybody had gone. After the buildup to race day, all she had left was her own company. “The loneliness in our business, alongside so much intensity, is hard for a lot of people to understand.”

“Not you.”

“Only because I’ve been a part of it for so long. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a normal life,” she added quietly.

“You’d rather have a nine-to-five job?” he asked, his surprise evident.

“No.” What would she do if she didn’t spend all her time either working on cars or going to the track? The idea was as likely as flying to the moon.

“You ever think about what you’ll do after you retire?” she asked.

“No.”

She glanced back at him, but the night shadowed his expression. “Yes, you do.”

“My father thinks I ought to do PR for the NFL.”

She stiffened. Conversations about his father were always loaded with tension. And, as was typical with Anton Jackson’s suggestions, she completely disagreed.

She’d never known anybody less likely than Kane to work in public relations. He was great with the fans, but he was also impatient. He was terrible at organization and worse at playing politics. Plus, he would never get anywhere on time if James didn’t schedule every minute of his weekend.

He surprised her by smiling, then kissing her forehead. “I can read your thoughts, you know.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re thinking you haven’t heard a worse idea since Ricky Matthews suggested you be the lookout for his clock-stealing scheme.”

She laughed and turned slightly, laying her head against his chest. “Pretty close.”

He stroked her hair. “I like having you here.”

“I like being here.”

“Are you sure?”

His heart thumped beneath her ear. Doubts and worries pushed her to confess their concerns, but she ignored them. “Yes.”

“You seemed uncomfortable earlier.”

“I didn’t see any point in broadcasting our relationship—past or present.”

“We were among friends.”

“I’m not ready to share us with them, either.”

“You’re embarrassed.”

Startled, she lifted her head. “I’m not.” She cupped his jaw, then pressed her lips briefly against his. “I’m not at all. It’s just that once everybody knows we’re…”

“Sleeping together.”

She winced. “Too much information. I was going to say reunited.”

“You don’t want anyone to know we’re sleeping together.”

Hearing the angry, wounded tone in his voice, she sat up straight. “Once everyone knows about us, the speculation, the truth, whatever…it’ll become a thing.”

“A thing?”

“An excuse for why you’re driving great. Or not so great. A reason why I’m happy and made the right adjustment on the car. A reason why I’m annoyed and forgot to double-check the ignition box. Then it’s not about us anymore. It’s about everything else. We’re entitled to a private life.”

“I don’t want to apologize.”

She slid her thumb across his bottom lip, which was entirely too firm. “I’d never ask you to.”

“You did with Victor Sono.”

He was their primary sponsor. They couldn’t afford to annoy him. There was nothing personal about her request. “I was a car chief then,” she said.

“You’re not now?”

“Definitely not.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth, reassurance welling up in her as she realized how nice it was to touch him, to not be constantly holding back. She wanted to relive their longing and passion over and over again, until he was again familiar, until she’d memorized every sigh and touch. “Remember what we did the night we sneaked out to your parents’ lake house?”

“Vividly.”

“You wanna do that again?”

“I think I could be persuaded to go there.”

She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled his head toward her lips. “Go there.”



AFTER FINISHING SIXTH in the first Chase race at New Hampshire, Kane arrived in Dover on Thursday night with a surge of confidence.

Which lasted about ten minutes.

Apparently, Lexie had told her father she was staying with Kane in his motor coach this weekend.

When they got to the track, they’d rushed to the hauler for a brief meeting with Harry. And his crew chief—the man who’d been his mentor for too many years to count—gave him one long, hard stare, then ignored him completely.

He’d talked to his daughter about race details and the car setup, but not with his usual easiness and affection. His anger and disappointment was evident.

Lexie had warned Kane this would happen. She’d told him a lot of people were not going to be happy for them and had convinced him last week to say nothing about their relationship. She’d also refused to stay in his motor coach with him.

But he had no intention of hiding from anybody.

He wanted her to stay with him, despite her dire warning that the team was going to worry about how their relationship would affect the team, their communication and chemistry. Their friends were going to worry they would be pushed aside. His female fans, according to Lexie, were going to hate her.

Kane had dismissed most of her concerns. Until now, anyway.

What was with people? Didn’t they have anything else to worry about? He wasn’t entitled to a slice of happiness? He wasn’t supposed to have a private life?

He stalked out of the hauler and paced outside. Looking back on his lunch with James yesterday, he remembered even his best buddy still had reservations about him and Lexie dating again. He’d asked Kane how things were going, as if he expected trouble.

Did they think being with Lexie was going to affect his driving? Like Samson cutting his hair, he’d suddenly forget how to press the gas pedal? That he’d get on the track and wonder whether he should go right or left? Surely they’d all settle down once everybody realized how ridiculous that was.

If anything his concentration should improve, since he wasn’t focusing on his conflicts with Lexie anymore. He’d had a great finish last week, and that seemed like proof to him.

He’d just have to act as if nothing had changed. He wasn’t into public displays of affection, anyway, but he’d make double sure he treated Lexie professionally in public. He’d make sure he treated all the guys the same—though he couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t.