The door opened behind him, and Lexie stepped out. “Ready to go?”
“Sure. How did—” He stopped when he saw tears glimmering in her eyes. Immediately the no-PDA vow died. He drew her into his arms. “What did he say?”
“The usual parent stuff—you’re making a mistake, you’re ruining your life.”
But Harry wasn’t a usual parent. In all the years he’d known them, he’d never heard him and Lexie fight. A reunion with him, however, had provoked an argument that ended with her in tears. Not exactly a confidence booster or a mood destined to keep the spark alive in their romance.
Why couldn’t they share their happiness with the people who meant the most?
He sighed in disappointment and hugged her against his chest. He’d caused a rift between her and her father. He’d pushed her and pursued her. He’d convinced her nothing would change except that he’d finally be able to look into her eyes and be honest in telling her he no longer wanted to just be her friend and teammate.
His chest tightened when he considered that it wasn’t just any man involved with his daughter that upset Harry. It was him personally.
Was that just because of their positions on the team, or did the resentment go deeper than that? His own father had never fully accepted him and the choices he’d made. Harry always had. Would his relationship with Lexie cost him that respect?
“You wanna dump me again?” he asked her, striving for humor.
Sniffling, she clutched him tighter, her face pressed against his throat. “No.”
“But you told me so, didn’t you? You told me everybody was going to freak out.”
“I did tell you so,” she said, her voice stronger.
“But then, you’re always right.”
She lifted her head and looked up at him. A tentative smile hovered on her lips. “I must really be pitiful if you’re conceding that.”
“I concede nothing. I was trying to make you laugh.”
“Doesn’t make me less right.”
“Depends of the subject. Gear ratios?”
“Mine.”
“Wind tunnel statistics.”
“Mine again.”
“Pass protection in football.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You can have that one.”
“What about…” He whispered a naughty suggestion in her ear.
“Oh, well, okay. You get that one, too,” she said, her tone husky.
He kissed her gently. “I’m sorry you and your dad argued.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Later. I’m starving.” She tugged his hand, and they headed to his motor coach.
There they made dinner together, then watched a sitcom on TV. Tomorrow he’d have to share her, so tonight he planned to be greedy. Shades drawn, and the rest of the racing world shut out, they made love on the sofa. Each time he held her he was reminded of the precious gift she was to him. He could very easily fall in love again.
Not just teenage infatuation, but the happily-ever-after kind that changed a man forever. The kind of relationship that had him wondering about building a family and changing anything in his life necessary to keep her happy and devoted to him.
Was he already there?
As she moved around in the kitchen making a cup of tea, she wore only his T-shirt. Her hair was tousled, her face relaxed. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight.
But when did you know? Did you just look at a woman one day and know?
She’s the one. I want to spend my life with her.
He’d have to remember to ask his dad. Despite the years that had passed, the struggles of life and the temptations encountered by a famous athlete—and the man had the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders hanging around—his parents were still very much in love. They understood and supported each other. They connected on levels he had no concept of.
He knew Lexie’s parents had had that same kind of relationship, though they’d been cheated out of their lifetime together. He’d never understood until recently how much that mattered.
“He doesn’t think I’m good enough for you,” he said, not even realizing the thought had entered his brain until the words emerged from his mouth.
Lexie looked up, watching him from over her mug. “He’s got on his crew chief cap,” she said, obviously not needing an explanation for who he was. “He’s pissed off that I’m distracting his driver.”
“You’re not distracting me.” He grinned, his gaze sliding down her half-bare body. “Well, you are, but he’s upset about more than me driving his car.”
“He’s jealous. I’m the only woman in his life. He doesn’t want to share me.”
“He said that?”
“No, but that’s the heart of his issue.” She rounded the bar, then sat beside him on the couch, her bare legs curled next to his jean-clad ones. “That and not wanting to see us fall apart again.”
“Who says we’re going to fall apart?”
“Nobody said we’re going to. He just worries that might happen.”
“We’ve been back together less than two weeks, why—”
“Is that what we are? Back together?”
“Sure, what else?”
Her gaze flicked up to his. “We’ve had one date, a couple of sleepovers, and now we’re spending the weekend together.”
“Right.”
“So we’re exclusive?”
What else would they be? “Yes. You have other plans?”
“No. Just checking. And you didn’t ask, by the way.”
He furrowed his brow. Was she annoyed, or just messing with him? “You want me to ask you to go steady?”
Smiling, she set her mug on the table. Then she turned to him and curled her hand around the back of his head. “Oh, Kane, how sweet. How traditional.”
Messing with him. Definitely. He slid his arms around her. “How about if I offer you my senior ring?”
“I never gave it back.”
He frowned. “You didn’t?”
“No. It’s still in my jewelry box.”
“You didn’t burn it or toss it out of a fast-moving car?”
“Of course not.” She blinked innocently. “Thought about it a few times.”
“Well, I feel loads better, and you’re distracting me from my point.” What was his point? Touching her was always distracting.
Harry. Not good enough. Ah, falling apart. “Do we have to spend every moment reliving past mistakes?”
“Hey, you asked. He remembers how hurt I was before. He considers you the cause of that pain.”
“I was.”
“It was a two-way street. I let a lot of things bother me that I wouldn’t today.”
“Like…”
LEXIE LOOKED DOWN, then back into Kane’s eyes. She’d been teasing him, but the issues were serious ones. She shouldn’t still be carrying baggage from the old days. “I was unsure of myself, and I didn’t like the other women who hung around. I was jealous of the time you spent in the garage. Your dedication to racing. I always felt I was second. A very distant second. I realize now that’s just part of who you are. It’s something I have to accept.”
He stroked her cheek. “Racing isn’t first, and you aren’t second. You don’t have to accept leftover time from me.”
For a long time she’d dreamed of hearing those words from him. Were they really true now, or had they been true before and she’d just been too insecure to see them? She wasn’t sure, but she hadn’t imagined his distraction and his restlessness when they were together.
One thing she knew—they were both young. Could things be different this time? Could she be more confident? More demanding when she needed to be? Could he be less impatient off the track and still be aggressive on it?
Other than nearly knocking Danny Lockwood on his butt at Bristol, he’d certainly found a good balance between driver and man off the track.
He’d listened to her advice and understood she wasn’t criticizing but helping. The younger Kane never would have done that. He would have lost his temper, and they would have fought, or he simply would have walked away from her. His track performance was benefiting. The cautious driver she’d started with in February at Daytona had been replaced with one of smart ambition.
“I was lousy at balancing things before,” he continued. “I’m better now.”
But he still had an unquenchable desire to win, for hardcharging competition—every driver did. And he still had a desperate desire for his father’s respect. For his father to see him as an equal. She wasn’t sure that would ever happen, and she wasn’t sure how that affected every other relationship in his life.
She couldn’t turn away from him, though. Regardless of her father’s warnings, of her own internal doubts, she’d thrown her heart into the ring with Kane Jackson again.
The risks were like debating the success of a two-tire pit stop. Smart for some. Stupid for others. And a complete crap shoot for everybody in between.
“The next nine weeks are the most important of our professional lives,” she said.
“And we’re going to succeed. Together.”
“It’s going to be complicated.”
“It wasn’t before?”