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Authors: Michele Dunaway

Hart's Victory (12 page)

BOOK: Hart's Victory
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CHAPTER NINE

F
ROM HERE ON OUT
, you have me, too.

The words echoed in Kellie’s head as she finally tucked herself into bed that night. Once they’d arrived back at the track, Charlie had woken up enough to take his medicine and change into sweats and a T-shirt. Then he’d crawled into the side bunk, pulled the curtain closed and drifted back to sleep.

Kellie had walked back out into the living area and stared out the window. While she had a clear view, she could only see the faint glow coming from inside Hart’s motor home since his windows were tinted. On the other side of her, the McDougals’ motor home sat empty and dark. Even the track was quiet, the security lights providing a halo effect. A hush had fallen over the motor home lot and the infield fan camping areas, the only sounds coming from generators and the occasional insect.

Kellie went to the back of the motor home and turned down the queen-size comforter. Even though the race didn’t start until seven-thirty, the next day promised to have some busy moments. She climbed into the comfortable bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Then she clicked off the light, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness.

Hart Hampton had said she had him. He’d kissed her. Touched her. Made her want things she didn’t have time to think about. She’d found herself laughing tonight, a sound often missing in her repertoire. She’d enjoyed playing pool, reveled in Hart’s flirtation as he’d assisted her with her shots. Hart had made her feel alive�and she’d let go and enjoyed herself. She rolled onto her side, long accustomed to having a big bed all to herself.

She’d cling to the memories of this weekend forever.

Her husband had once laughed and called Kellie meticulous to a fault. “You always plan life,” he’d said. “You can’t plan anything. Take what you can get, that’s my attitude.”

His lackadaisical attitude had gotten him killed.

Now she’d become involved with Hart, a man who also lived his life without fear, even if he did have a healthy respect for it. Tonight she’d lost herself in the fantasy he’d created. His house was a perfect example. She’d expected something huge and overdone; instead, it had been subtle, the racing memorabilia kept to a minimum as he’d told her most of that was at his office.

He had a lovely house, one so homey she could picture herself living there. His words hadn’t helped dissuade her. “When I’m here, I don’t want reminders of who I am. I just want to be me,” he’d said.

So had she misjudged him? Could Hart Hampton, celebrity, coexist with Hart Hampton, the man who had tenderly carried her son? Could they inhabit the same body, and if so, could he set his love of racing aside to love a family? In her gut, Kellie knew Hart was trustworthy. However, her heart wasn’t ready to believe he was serious. And she had no time for anything else.

T
HE
M
C
D
OUGALS
arrived back at the track a little before noon, and Stuart immediately came over and grabbed Charlie. He also arrived carrying an apple pie, something his mother sent over as a thank-you.

“She’s planning on coming over a little later,” Stuart told Kellie before he and Charlie left for Taylor’s. “She wants to know where you’re watching the race tonight. Dad’s pit is right next to Hart’s.”

Kellie had no idea why that mattered, but nodded. While it had taken her a little while to fall asleep, once she had she’d slept until almost nine, getting in a good ten hours of shut-eye. She’d checked Charlie’s temperature, and he’d been fine. His skin color had been good, and he’d insisted he didn’t want to visit the infield care center. She’d seen Hart briefly around eleven and he’d told her if she was concerned, he could call his personal physician and have the doctor at the track within an hour. That had reassured her. Then Russ had arrived to take Hart to a sponsorship luncheon. She’d declined going, and now that Charlie was off at a friend’s house, she suddenly had the afternoon free.

She took a moment to call her mother, leaving Anita a voice mail that all was fine and that everyone was having a good time. Then Kellie simply sat down and turned on the television, finding a great movie that she’d never seen on one of the satellite channels. Just to treat herself, she even micro-waved some popcorn, having found some in a pantry. She hadn’t eaten any apple pie yet, deciding to wait for Hart.

“Knock knock,” a female voice called. The movie had ended twenty minutes ago, and Kellie had been watching previews as she waited for the next one to start. She called back, “Come in,” and Alyssa McDougal came up the stairs and into the motor home.

“Hey, I came to make sure Stu gave you the pie and to personally thank you again for letting him hang out here last night,” Alyssa said, taking a seat.

“Not a problem,” Kellie said. “You didn’t really have to send a pie.”

“Oh, yes I did. I love to bake, especially when I’m stressed. I made that, one apple upside-down cake and Betsy’s birthday cake.” Alyssa patted her hips before taking a seat. “I certainly don’t need to eat what I make.”

“You aren’t fat,” Kellie told her. Alyssa had a few extra pounds on her, but she certainly wasn’t obese by any means. Far from it.

“No, but I’m not skinny, either,” Alyssa said with a regretful smile. “I’ll never compete again with some of those young rookie girlfriends who would blow away in a harsh wind. I was that way, long ago in another lifetime.”

“Me, too,” Kellie said with a laugh. “Besides, you just had a baby.”

“Yeah, ten months ago. The last one, I told Ronnie. We seem to keep spacing them five to seven years apart. Stuart’s actually my second. I have one in college, as well. She’s doing an internship in L.A. this summer.”

“How long have you two been married?”

“Twenty-three years. He walked into my daddy’s car dealership looking for a sponsorship and that was that. I knew I was getting a race car driver, but love’s like that. When the heart leads, you take them no matter what they do for a living,” Alyssa said.

“He’s doing well, though, isn’t he? Your husband? My son follows NASCAR avidly.”

“Oh, Ronnie should make the Chase. He’s pretty consistent. The pressure’s off, in a sense, in that he’s won one NASCAR NEXTEL Cup Championship. While he’d love another, some guys go their whole careers without, and Ronnie’s one of those who are grateful for what they have and not despondent over what they don’t. He’s in his forties and probably will start cutting back soon. He’s been at this forever, and he’s going to be a co-owner of his own Busch Series team next year.”

“That’s a good attitude,” Kellie said.

“Hart’s like that, too, which is why Ronnie’s been a mentor to him. They’re actually pretty close friends, despite the thirteen-year age difference. The only disagreement they have is my husband’s a Ford man and Hart’s a Chevy.”

“I never did understand that,” Kellie said with a shake of her head. “To me, it’s just a car.”

“Or truck. I guess it’s a guy thing.” Alyssa laughed and checked her watch. “My mother-in-law’s over there with the baby, but I don’t want to leave her too long. What are you doing tonight?”

“Watching the race?” Kellie said, wondering for a second if this was a trick question. Not that Alyssa seemed like the type.

“No, I meant, from where? Will you be up on the pit box with Charlie?”

Now Kellie understood, and she had no idea. “I’m not really sure. Hart hasn’t mentioned how this is going to work. But I don’t think so. He hasn’t mentioned anything about it. Why, should I?”

“Some wives and girlfriends are always in the pit. They like to be a member of the team, doing things like monitoring fuel use. Others wait in the motor home and watch the race on television. You know who they are because they’re impeccably dressed at the end of the race.”

“What do you do?” Kellie asked.

“When I first met Ronnie, I used to be on the pit box, but that seems like a lifetime ago. While there’s infield babysitting, I’m usually at home in Charlotte with the little ones, especially the night races when I want bedtimes to stay somewhat normal. I don’t go to as many races as I used to. But when I do, I’m watching in the motor home and I wanted to invite you over to join me. Dress code business casual. Nice pants, nice shirt, just in case they win. Nothing fancy. No dressing to the nines allowed. You can meet a few other wives. And my mother-in-law.”

“Let me check with Hart,” Kellie said, touched by the offer. “Although, I mean, we’re not dating,” she added quickly. “I’m just here because of my son. He’s the real guest. This will probably be the only race I attend this year, and I’d hate to intrude.”

“You won’t be. I’d love to have you. It’s a fun time, and you’ll meet some good people. If Hart or Cynthia don’t have anything better for you, come on over.”

“Thanks. I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” Kellie said. The offer was sweet and generous, especially when made to someone who wouldn’t be around again.

“Well, I hope to see you tonight,” Alyssa said, her expression welcoming. “I’d better get going. My door is always open. Just come on over anytime after driver introductions. I’ll be back by then. You know, you should ask Hart if you need to be there for those. Oh, and don’t worry about bringing anything. I have everything covered.”

With that, Alyssa rose to her feet and left. Kellie leaned back against the sofa, letting contented lethargy steal over her. She hadn’t been this relaxed since, well, she couldn’t remember when. She closed her eyes, allowing her body to sink further into the soft leather.

“You look comfortable,” a voice said. Kellie felt a rustle next to her and opened her eyes as Hart sat down next to her.

“Was comfortable,” she said, a bit disoriented from being jolted out of her nap. He’d crept up on her.

“Ah, she missed me,” Hart teased. “And here I was thinking of you and even bringing you back some food.”

Kellie’s stomach growled as if on cue. She’d only had the popcorn, hours ago. On the coffee table in front of her were two plates covered with aluminum foil. Curiosity won. “What’s in there?”

“One’s a piece of chocolate cake, which my aunt said was fantastic. The other’s some fresh fruit, assorted cheeses, and some veggies and dip. Oh, and some roast beef sandwiches on dollar rolls.” Kellie’s stomach rumbled again. “Didn’t eat, did you?” Hart teased.

“I had some popcorn,” she said in her defense. “Charlie went off somewhere with Stuart and I’ve been relaxing all day. That is, until you came in.”

And disturbed her equilibrium. Not only was she hungry, but she was also highly aware of Hart Hampton. He wore a kelly-green polo shirt with Elementals Racing embroidered above his heart. This close up, she could tell that he smelled good, too, all freshly shaved, with a hint of crisp musk. His lips were close to hers, those green eyes of his hypnotic. Bringing her food was grand and spoke volumes.

He leaned over slightly, bending his lips to take hers in a gentle kiss. His touch was soft and supple, and Kellie allowed herself to be swept away as he deepened the kiss. Their second kiss, Kellie thought hazily as the thoughts in her head began to scatter. A second kiss meant that the first one wasn’t a fluke. Maybe he really was interested in her as a woman beyond Sunday’s deadline. For the moment, Kellie believed, and she allowed herself to touch Hart’s face, feeling his jawbone with her thumb and his cheeks with her fingertips. Then her stomach whined, louder than before, and Hart drew back, laughing as he pushed a plate of food toward her. “I know a woman’s priorities. Eat.”

But even though he’d made light of the moment, Kellie had sensed something different in his expression, hidden there in the darkening of his green eyes and hinted at in the flicker of his eyelashes.

She uncovered the plates, reaching for a carrot stick. While she’d love to indulge in the cake, habit and good nutrition had her eating the veggies and fruit first and saving the sweets until last. Hart, however, wasn’t so patient and picked up a fork, dipped it in the cake and waved the bite at her. “This is the good stuff,” he said.

No, he was the good stuff, Kellie thought as her mouth closed on the cake he’d pushed toward her. Hart reached over and brushed a crumb off her lips, the gesture intimate and familiar. “So was I right?”

He’d been right about a lot, and the armor Kellie shielded herself with cracked. If nothing else, she’d leave this weekend with a new sense of self, that maybe she needed to get back out there in the world of dating, at least take a baby step or two. “You were right,” Kellie said. “Thank you. I…”

“So you like me a little more?”

“Just a bit,” Kellie teased to make the moment light, holding her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart.

“Really?” Hart stepped closer, into kissing range.

“Hart, you in there?” Kellie recognized Russ’s voice.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Hart said, standing and moving toward the door, the tender moment ending.

“You’re late for the autographing session for the season ticket holders,” Russ called.

Hart rolled his eyes. “Come with?” he asked, holding his hand out.

“Charlie?”

“Will be fine if you’re not here. I’ll call Alyssa’s cell on the way, and she’ll keep him over there. If you’ve never seen one of these, it’s an experience. You can bring your food.”

Kellie glanced down. She wore jeans and a seafoam green scooped T-shirt. She and Hart were almost twins in their choice of top/bottom colors. “Okay,” she said, covering the plates of food and stacking the cake on top of the veggies. She slid into her tennis shoes. “I guess I’m ready.”

The day was unusually hot for a North Carolina May, and Russ was waiting outside the door with Hart’s four-seater golf cart. Kellie slid in the back seat, balancing her food on her plate and grateful the cart had a hard plastic roof as she’d forgotten to bring Hart’s spare sunglasses. Seated in front next to Russ, Hart took out his cell phone and dialed Alyssa. As Russ whipped through the infield, through a tunnel and outside toward the vendor row, Kellie simply balanced the plates in one hand and held on for life with the other.

A large white tent had been set up, and fans began to cheer as soon they saw Hart Hampton had arrived. Russ parked the cart, and he and Hart jumped out. A row of tables waited with one spot empty, and Kellie could see that other drivers had already started autographing. The popular drivers had longer lines, and Kellie, behind the scenes, watched as Russ seated Hart. Another Hampton Racing employee was already present and holding Hart’s autograph cards, which were full-color, eight-and-a-half-by-eleven card-stock photos of Hart and his car. Kellie had seen one the day before in a holder outside the hauler. The other side of the card showcased Hart’s racing statistics. Hart took a seat, and the line began to move. Most people had brought things for Hart to autograph, but for those who didn’t, an autograph card quickly appeared on the table in front of Hart.

“Crazy, isn’t it?”

“Very much so,” Kellie said, grateful to see Cynthia. She slid into the front seat of the cart.

“I was on my way back to the infield from the sponsor lunch and decided to pop by. Is that the food Hart brought you?”

“He told me it was okay to bring it along,” she said.

“Eat. This will take a while. They gave out two hundred tickets, and I can guarantee you all two hundred fans are out there waiting to meet him.”

“Alyssa McDougal asked me to watch the race from her motor home,” Kellie said.

For a second, Cynthia looked surprised. “That’s a great idea. I’m going to be up in the condo with the sponsors, like always.”

“I don’t think I want to be in the pit.”

Cynthia laughed. “Wise woman. You get more information on TV anyway, unless you have a race scanner. We actually have a monitor on the pit cart tuned to the television broadcast. So last night went well?”

Kellie felt a tad bit awkward discussing the night, so she said simply, “We went to dinner, and then Charlie and I played pool at Hart’s house. We were back before midnight because Charlie needed his medication. Charlie’s with Stuart right now. Hart called Alyssa.”

“So my nephew’s been treating you well?” Cynthia prodded.

BOOK: Hart's Victory
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