On the Edge (9 page)

Read On the Edge Online

Authors: Pamela Britton

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Love Stories, #Contemporary Romance, #Fathers and Daughters, #Sports & Recreation, #Businesswomen, #Single Fathers, #North Carolina, #Automobile Racing Drivers, #Automobile Racing, #Motor Sports, #NASCAR (Association), #Automobiles; Racing

BOOK: On the Edge
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“Do you eat out here a lot?” he asked, his words breaking Becca’s nervous silence.
The question had her blinking and then mentally chastising herself for forgetting for a moment that she was having dinner, with a man, in the privacy of her backyard.
So?
asked a voice. It wasn’t like they were on a date.
“Actually, no,” she said. “At least, not as often as I used to.”
And there it was, the pin that always seemed to pop a balloon of conversation.
Randy.
The name was unspoken, but it might as well have been shouted from the rooftop.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” he said, taking a sip of Michelle’s famous pink lemonade.
“Thanks,” she said.
“He seemed like a nice man.”
“He was.”
On some days.
But like any married couple, there’d been good days and bad. Still, she’d been deeply in love with him, and so she shouldn’t be sitting across from another man wondering what would happen if she leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth.
She owed Randy more respect than that.
“I was surprised you stuck around the racing industry after everything that happened.”
Becca flicked a cloth napkin open, kicking little white pieces of fuzz into the air. The pool gutter slurped loudly, the pool sweep gurgled momentarily as it surfaced.
“I almost didn’t,” she said, leaning forward, picking up a nearby fork and stabbing a piece of chicken. “I almost chucked it all,” she admitted, lifting up the lid to the tortilla warmer. “It would have been so easy to walk away.”
“But you didn’t,” he said, grabbing a tortilla, too.
“Randy would have killed me,” she said with a small smile. “He worked too hard to get his truck team off the ground for me to sell it off to a bigger team.”
“Like Sanders’ Racing?”
Becca nodded. “Blain and Cece would have bought it. They even offered. But I think after Randy died I needed to keep busy. We didn’t have kids,” she said, and even now, years later, she still felt the pang of regret.
But the time for “if only” had long since passed.
“Maybe if we’d had children I might have felt differently,” she said, looking away. She didn’t want Adam to see how much it still hurt that she’d never conceived. “But in the end I think the business became almost like a child to me.”
“And you’ve done well.”
Ha.
But aloud she said, “Somewhat.”
“Yes, you have,” he said. “You’ve expanded the program, added a Busch and a Cup team. And you almost won a truck championship a couple of years back.”
“Yeah, but then I lost my driver to a big name Cup team. We’ve been struggling ever since.”
“You just need to give it time.”
“I don’t have time,
or
the luxury of unlimited funds. We’re small potatoes compared to some of the other outfits.”
“Your sponsors have stayed with you.”
“Yeah, but for how much longer? They’ll only put up with poor performances so long. Last year was a disaster and unless I get some decent drivers soon, they’re going to bail. They may
still
bail.”
“But that’s why you were out at the track today. And why you’ll be out there tomorrow. You’ll find people to pilot your cars.”
“Yeah. Maybe
you,
” she said, happy to remind herself of what the man across from her might ultimately mean to her. If he did well on Wednesday, she would have to offer him a job, which meant no more unprofessional thoughts. It’d be strictly business. But to be honest, she
wanted
to keep it that way—for Randy’s sake.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. I might choke the moment a TV camera is pointed my way.”
“Doubtful,” she said, taking a bite. But eating in front of him made her feel self-conscious. He watched the food enter her mouth, stared at her lips in such a way that she found herself blushing.
“You never know,” he said.
They settled into silence, Becca telling herself to relax. It was just a harmless dinner. Nothing to get uptight about. Adam, as promised, was a perfect gentleman. She was grateful for that.
“Look, Becca. I want to thank you for bringing me out here. You’ve made Lindsey happier than I’ve seen her in years.”
“Not at all,” she said, her tongue starting to feel awkward in her mouth. Her heart pounded a bit too hard, too, because no matter how many times she told herself that it’d be a dumb move to get involved with a race car driver, she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. And that was so completely disloyal to Randy, so totally out of character, she didn’t know what to think—what to do.
“Your, um…your daughter did me a favor by showing up on my doorstep.”
“Well, like I said, that remains to be seen.”
“No. She did. You’re lucky to have her.”
And there it was again. The longing she felt whenever she observed other people’s children. She’d always wanted kids. She and Randy had even talked about it. But they’d always put it off.
And then he’d died.
“Becca?” he asked softly.
She looked up, surprised to see him staring at her in concern.
“You would have made a great mother.”
She felt her throat tighten, felt her eyes heat up. “Thank you.”
He reached across the table and to her shock, took her hand. There was nothing sexual about it. Nothing even remotely forward. It was the touch of a man who understood. Who only wanted to comfort her.
“Sometimes life isn’t fair,” he said.
“No. Sometimes it’s not,” she said, suddenly closer to tears than she had been in a long, long time.
“But you’re such a good person, Becca. Your kindness shines through. Lindsey loves you. So does everybody out at the track. And so I have to wonder if God blessed you with such a kind heart so you could use it to help others.”
“Do you think?” she asked through a throat gone thick with tears. “’Cause sometimes I wonder why I was left behind.”
He shook his head, a lock of his hair falling across his forehead. “You were left behind because you’re needed here,” he said. “To help people like me and my daughter.”
“I haven’t helped you yet.”
“Yes, you have,” he said. “Lindsey’s like a different kid. You should have heard her on the phone today. If nothing else, I know my little girl is proud of me. And that means the world to me.”
“Yeah, but it helps that you’ve raised her so well. You’re a good man,” she said. “And you’ve got an amazing daughter.”
“Thank you,” he said. “But if she turns out half as amazing as you, I’ll be a lucky man.”
And for some reason that made the tears fall. It’d been so long since a man had given her a compliment. And he didn’t do it to try to get on her good side or anything. She could see the sincerity in his eyes. She wiped away the wetness with a hand that shook. But as his grip tightened, other emotions began to surface, emotions that suddenly made her feel weak and vulnerable.
She pulled away.
“Our food is getting cold,” she said. When she glanced up, it was just in time to see the disappointment on his face.
“Yeah, you’re right,” she heard him say. “It
is
getting cold.”
But she had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the food.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ADAM COULD hardly sleep that night. And while some of that might have something to do with the next day’s testing session, he knew it had more to do with Becca Newman and their poolside dinner.

She was filled with such sorrow.

He nearly groaned every time he recalled the look on her face when they’d been talking about her having children. He wanted to rip his pillow apart. It wasn’t fair that women like her went without children while women like his ex-wife up and walked away from them. What a waste.
But there were other emotions keeping him awake, too. Emotions that had to do with how he’d felt when he’d held her hand.
But then she’d pulled away. So that was that.
The next morning when he awoke, she was gone. Not surprising. He knew she’d do her best to avoid him today. Things had gotten a little too raw yesterday. And since she might end up being his boss, raw wasn’t a good thing. He’d better stop imposing on her hospitality, anyway.
So he showed up at the shop, Becca nowhere in sight as he was put through his media training. That didn’t surprise him too much since she didn’t have any reason to be there. But he was a little surprised that she wasn’t around when each of the drivers went through an interview with a faux print reporter. Then again, she might be watching on closed circuit television somewhere. His TV interview didn’t go so well, or so he thought. He kept saying the wrong thing. Afterward, the PR specialist had grilled him on television dos and don’ts, most of which he’d already been told during the morning session.
The one bright spot to the day had been his commercial. Of course, it hadn’t really been taped, but he seemed to be a natural actor and memorizing his lines had been a snap. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little out of place throughout the day. He was a thirtysomething has-been driver. Crap, he wasn’t even a has-been. He was a never-was. Who cared that he’d
almost
won a Crown championship a few years back? Obviously he didn’t have the goods.
And Becca Newman hadn’t been around to reassure him.
He tried calling Lindsey on Brandy’s cell, but all he got was her voice mail over and over again. A glance at his watch told him she should be home from school. He dialed her the whole way back to Becca’s house, his panic increasing with each unanswered call. Heck, he couldn’t even get through to Brandy’s mom.
He had his answer when he pulled up in front of Becca’s home; Lindsey herself ran out and greeted him.
“Daddy,” she squealed in delight, her face as bright as her loose red hair.
And as his arms wrapped around her, Adam knew he had Becca to thank for her presence.
“I’m so glad to see you!” she shouted.
“And I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, inhaling the scent of her. Instantly all the day’s numerous debacles faded away. It didn’t matter that he’d fumbled more things than he’d aced. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen Becca. All that mattered was that his daughter—the love of his life—was in his arms.
She drew back. “You should have seen it, Dad. I rode on a private jet with Lance Cooper.
Lance Cooper,
” she repeated, her eyes as wide as tire rims. “
And
his wife, Sarah. They were on their way home from visiting Sarah’s mom in California and they made a special stop for me. Can you believe it?”
No, he couldn’t believe it. Everyone’s graciousness was unreal. He was beginning to think people in the racing industry were some of the most generous people on earth.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“About an hour. I was worried you might try to call Brandy’s cell phone. And that you’d freak out when you couldn’t reach me.”
“You were right.”
Her face fell. “But it’s okay now, isn’t it? I really wanted this to be a surprise. And Becca said we could both stay here with her. Ohmygosh, Dad, Lance and Sarah are so nice,” she said, the words so close together Adam had a hard time making them out. “They would have stayed to meet you but Sarah wasn’t feeling well. She’s pregnant,” Lindsey said, holding her hands out like she had a big belly. “It’s their first child and she said she’s been sicker than a dog and that she didn’t want to go to California but that if she hadn’t gone to see her mom, her mom would have come to North Carolina, which would have put her into early labor.” She leaned toward him. “I don’t think she gets along with her very well.”
Which made him smile. She was so damn excited. He could see it in her blue eyes, which glowed nearly as bright as they did on Christmas day.
And in that moment he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude toward Becca Newman.
“Where’s Becca?” she asked, his daughter somehow reading his mind.
“I don’t know.”
“You mean you didn’t see her today?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, Lindsey. You’ll have to ask Becca.”
She pushed her lips out, a habit she’d had since childhood. “Strange. She sounded like she’d be with you or something.”
“Maybe she was,” Adam said. “I have no idea if she was watching me do my television interviews.”
That made her face clear. “How’d you do?”
“I think I blew it.”
Her face fell. “What makes you say that?”
“I fumbled my newspaper and TV interview.”
“But the other drivers might have done bad, too.”
“Somehow I doubt it.”

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