The Comeback (13 page)

He took her hand, and the simple contact locked them into a world of their own. He smiled, and his eyes lightened. Gaby knew their every fleck and shadow. Just like she knew the contour of the mouth below them, and the strength in the fingers that wrapped around hers.

The restaurant seemed suddenly warmer. With her free hand, Gaby took a drink of her water.

“This thing between us,” Zack said. “I have a feeling it could be serious, Gaby.”

She sputtered on her water. “Excuse me?”

“It’s not…it’s not just a regular attraction.” He sat back while the waiter poured their wine.

They chose their meals from the menu. When the waiter left, she said, “You’re right.”

Since her broken engagement, she’d been cautious. But what she felt for Zack couldn’t be denied. She doused a flicker of concern over what Sandra would think, and touched Zack’s hand. That excited, boyish look she was crazy about came over his face.

Just then someone brushed past Gaby’s chair. Three men whom Gaby recognized sat down at the table next to theirs.

“Hi, Zack,” Danny Cruise said.

With an apologetic glance at Gaby, Zack stood to greet Danny, a friend of his, along with his crew chief and team owner. Danny nodded at Gaby—he was a client of Motor Media Group, so he knew her by sight.

“Madison not with you tonight?” Zack asked. Everyone knew Danny seldom went anywhere without the wife he adored.

Just the mention of her name brought a goofy smile to the man’s face. “She’s back in the motor home, she’s tired out.” Danny paused. “I’m allowed to tell you all now—we’re expecting a baby.”

The casual words didn’t fool Gaby—Danny was bursting with pride. Zack congratulated his friend and did a pretty good job of asking the right questions.

It was a few minutes before he sat back down with Gaby. In the moment of silence before they resumed their conversation, Gaby heard Danny and his colleagues get immersed into a discussion of tomorrow’s race.

“Danny’s always had an uncanny level of focus,” she said.

“Which might explain why he wins more races than I do.” Zack darted a tormented glance at Danny’s table.

“Do you want to go home and work on the race?” she asked.

“I want to be with you,” he said. “Alone with you.”

Alone was a great idea. Gaby was starting to worry that with Danny at the next table, word of her dinner with Zack would get back to Sandra. Not that dinner with a client was a problem. It was the holding hands and the intense looks that would provoke speculation. They had to get out of here, away from Danny Cruise, from the Fulcrum Racing guys who were making more noise than anyone else in the restaurant, from the several other tables she now saw were occupied by NASCAR folk, albeit they were people she didn’t really know. Away from the intrusion of the reality of Zack’s job as a NASCAR driver.

“We could go back to my hotel,” she said.

Zack needed no encouragement. He signaled for the check and refused the waiter’s offer to package up their almost-ready meals. Five minutes later they were out on the sidewalk, where they literally almost ran in to Sandra and Gideon Taney, arriving for dinner.

Zack cursed. Gaby tugged the lapels of her jacket together as she greeted her boss. “This place is popular with NASCAR people tonight,” she said.
Calm, professional, nothing going on here.

“They sneaked a bunch of flyers into the motor home lot,” Taney said. “We’re all too lazy to look any further.”

“Would you two like to join us for a drink?” Sandra asked.

“We have plans,” Zack said.

“We’re reviewing tonight’s bachelor contest event,” Gaby said hastily.

Sandra gave Gaby an approving look. She’d adopted flat shoes for the later part of her pregnancy, and with Gaby wearing high-heeled sandals, they were closer in height than usual.

“I have some news,” Sandra said. “It looks as if I’ll be stopping work sooner than planned.”

“Is something wrong?” Gaby asked, concerned.

Sandra rubbed the small of her back. “My blood pressure’s up. Not too much at this point, but the doctor says it’ll likely go higher. She wants me to stop work in late September.”

The baby was due mid-December, conveniently timed, Gaby assumed, for the end of the NASCAR season.

“Which means,” Sandra said, “I’ll be appointing my successor around the Richmond race, to allow a couple of weeks for handover.”

Gaby did the mental calculation. That gave her three weeks to convince Sandra she should have the promotion.

She traded a glance with Zack. He was already on tenterhooks about the Richmond race, the last one before the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup. Now she was, too.

“We need to go,” Zack said apologetically to the Taneys. He practically hustled her to her car in his haste to get away. She wondered if he felt the same way she did—reluctant to think about the fact that they were each headed for Richmond with different priorities.

Z
ACK HURRIED
G
ABY UP
to her hotel room with the desperate eagerness of a rookie to make his first pass. How long was it since he’d felt this excited about kissing a woman? Making love with a woman? Hell, just
being
with this woman was enough. Now that he thought about it, Zack wasn’t sure he’d ever felt like this.

In the elevator, he caught Gaby in his arms. “You drive me crazy,” he said.

“Good,” she said, with such relief that he laughed.

“And you make me laugh.” He definitely couldn’t think of another woman who’d done that.

“You have a wonderful laugh,” she said.

“I do?”

“Wonderful,” she said firmly. “I love it.”

“I love doing this,” Zack said, and he kissed her.

Her response was so heated, he wanted the elevator journey to never end. When it did, he whisked her along the hallway and they fell into her room, lips locked together. Mmm, Gaby tasted so sweet, like honey.

Zack tugged her closer, felt those dangerous curves of hers snug against him. His hands moved over her, exploring, at first gentle, then bolder, pressing, molding.

Gaby’s hands on his back grew more insistent, Zack’s possession of her mouth more intimate.

“I want you,” he murmured into the curve of her neck, “so much it scares me.”

She turned her head, giving him access to her ear. She gasped as his tongue found that sweet spot. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” she said breathlessly.

“Mmm.” He nuzzled her red-gold curls.

“I’m so glad you got over that anti-career-woman thing.”

“Uh, yeah.” He wasn’t entirely sure what she was talking about, but he knew he didn’t want it getting in the way.

Gaby must have picked up on his distraction. “You did, didn’t you?”

He kissed her mouth again, silencing her. It worked for all of ten seconds.

She put her hands to his chest, gave a little push that was a clear signal to stop. Zack eased away from her mouth.

“You don’t still have a view that you can only marry someone who doesn’t have a career, do you?” she asked.

Every instinct Zack possessed protested against talking about marriage on a first date. “I never said that,” he disagreed. “I mean, sure, I’d expect my wife to make a home for us, but that doesn’t mean she can’t work.”

“It takes two to make a home.”

His arms slackened around her waist. “But while I’m racing NASCAR I’m pretty tied up. My wife would likely end up in charge of creating the home. It’s hard to see two really demanding careers fitting into one marriage.”

Gaby drew a sharp breath. “
I
have a really demanding career.”

He released her. “Gaby, we’re on our first date. I’m not sure this is relevant.”

“You said it feels serious. I don’t want to get close to you, then find out it can’t go anywhere.” She sat on the end of the bed.

“It’s not as if I’m saying my wife’s career would be over the day she married me,” Zack said, frustrated. “A guy can’t race NASCAR forever.”

“Dean Grosso raced until he was fifty. I imagine you haven’t set a time limit on your racing.”

Hell, no.
Zack admired the way Grosso had hung in there, winning the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series championship right before he retired.

“Dean did race a long time,” he admitted. “Patsy made a fulfilling career out of supporting her husband.” He was arguably doing a disservice to Patsy Grosso, an active co-owner of Cargill-Grosso Racing, but, heck, he had a point to make.

“Dean and Patsy split up last year,” Gaby said.

“They got back together again.” He thought about sitting next to her on the bed, maybe trying to get those kisses going again.

“So, your ideal wife will put her career on hold for you. Or make you her career.”

“I want to marry someone who loves me enough to put our marriage first,” he said.

“While you put it second.”

“It’s not like that,” he said, exasperated. “I grew up sidelined in my family. I don’t want to start a marriage in the same place. Is that so bad?”

She folded her arms across her chest, putting up a shield that made it clear he wasn’t welcome to join her on the bed. “I was forced to choose between love and my career once,” she said. “Never again.”

Zack leaned against the TV cabinet. “You’re talking about your engagement.” Now this, he did want to hear.

She nodded. “Sandra offered me a promotion to account director. My fiancé asked me to refuse it. He was worried I wouldn’t have time for our relationship. For him.”

Zack was torn. He recognized the unreasonable nature of the demand, yet he understood it, too.

“I decided our future was more important than my work, so I turned down the promotion,” Gaby said. “Three months later, he left me for another woman.”

Zack cursed. “Jerk. You’re better off without him.”

“It didn’t feel that way at the time.”

“I wouldn’t leave a woman who made that kind of sacrifice for me,” he said.

“But shouldn’t marriage be both people making sacrifices?”

Zack frowned. Ideally, marriage shouldn’t be a sacrifice at all. It should be something two people went into because they loved each other. “I guess,” he said, feeling his way, “maybe both sides need to give and take.”
Sides.
Sounded like a war.

“If I fell in love with a man like you,” she said, her color high, “it would be all-consuming.”

Sounded good to Zack.

“Unless you felt the same way, which it’s clear you don’t,” she said, “I’d end up doing all the giving and you’d be doing all the taking.”

“That’s not how it would be.” He fumbled for an explanation that sounded reasonable…but something about having her so close, with her red-gold curls tumbling around her shoulders, her fair skin an alluring contrast to her black dress, was scrambling his brain.

“All I’m saying—” he brought it back to the core truth, one even Gaby couldn’t argue with “—is that to race NASCAR, you have to be single-minded. Even if you’re not actually single.”

Gaby’s eyes widened as she absorbed that. “And all I’m saying,” she said, “is that I want a man I can love, but not one I’ll love too much.”

“How can you love someone too much?” he demanded.

“I don’t want to love someone more than he loves me,” she amended.

“Gaby, this is crazy,” he said. “We have something special, we owe it to ourselves to explore it. If it doesn’t work out—if I lose focus on my driving or you think you’re losing your independence—then it’ll come to a natural end.”

She plucked at the duvet with her fingers. “I don’t think I can take the risk, not now. Sandra isn’t convinced I can have a relationship without it interfering in the running of Motor
Media. If you and I were dating…I don’t think she’d trust I could handle the conflict of interest.”

“Of course you could,” Zack said.

“Could I?” Her gaze met his. “How would you feel about my divided loyalties?”

“I wouldn’t…I…” Zack ran a hand through his hair. Her career was already coming between them? This was unbelievable. “What are you saying? That we’re finished before we began?”

“I’m saying I don’t want to throw away everything I’ve worked for, for a man who doesn’t want to give as much to the relationship as I do.” She blinked hard, as if fighting tears.

It sounded like they were finished to him. But he still wanted to kiss her. Make love with her. He was damned if he was going to miss out on that. “I understand you’re under pressure with Sandra,” he said with an effort. “But what we’ve got, I don’t want to let it go so easily.”

“Me, neither,” she admitted quietly.

Okay, that was better. The pain Zack hadn’t realized he had in his chest eased. He took her hands in his. “It’s only three weeks until Richmond, until Sandra makes her decision. How about we put us on hold until then?”

“You’d do that?” Her eyes brightened.

“See, I’m making allowances for your career already.” Zack felt pretty pleased with himself.

“It would be a relief not to worry about Sandra getting suspicious,” she said.

He pulled her to her feet and kissed her lightly on the lips. “It’ll be frustrating as heck, but we can wait three weeks, right?”

“Sure. I think. Thank you, Zack.” She kissed him back, and as always the heat was instantaneous and insatiable. The kiss deepened, but just when Zack thought things might get interesting, she drew away. “Three weeks,” she promised. “Then we’ll figure out if we can make this work.”

A
MBER HAD EXPECTED STAYING
in Brady’s motor home at Bristol with him and her mom to be cramped and awkward. But Julie-Anne had insisted with rare firmness.

Luckily, the motor home was as big as they came, and her mother and Brady had a separate bedroom with a king-size bed, while Amber took the smaller bedroom at the back.

“Honey, would you like a cup of pumpkin soup?” Julie-Anne asked. She had always been a great cook, fond of experimenting.

“You used to make chicken noodle soup with homemade noodles,” Amber remembered.

Julie-Anne tensed. “I stopped when your father had his accident.”

“I didn’t mean…” Amber had been trying to dig up a happy memory to share with Julie-Anne, but it sounded like an accusation of neglect. Had she subconsciously meant it that way?

“Billy was never one to appreciate the effort that went into preparing a meal,” Julie-Anne said.

Amber analyzed her mom’s tone and detected only neutrality. No love for her first husband, but no hatred, either.

Amber hated Billy Blake.

“Here.” Julie-Anne held out a mug of soup.

Amber sipped, careful not to burn herself. Mmm, she tasted cardamom. “Great,” she said.

The door opened and Brady stuck his head in. “I can smell that soup clear from Chad’s place.”

“Come in and I’ll fix you a cup,” Julie-Anne said.

Brady stepped inside and wrapped his arms around his wife. “A culinary genius and gorgeous to boot,” he said. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Lucky dog rule,” Julie-Anne said, a teasing reference to the NASCAR rule that gave a second chance to a driver who’d fallen off the lead lap.

“I sure am.” Brady kissed her. Then he saw Amber watching and ended the kiss, though he didn’t release Julie-Anne.

Amber smiled at him—the first genuine warm smile she’d given him since she’d arrived. She didn’t remember her father ever having one nice word to say to her mom…or to her. Brady might be a little controlling, but his sons could still tell him to back off, and he appreciated Julie-Anne. Amber wasn’t looking for a stepfather, but maybe this was a guy she could trust with her mom. Maybe.

Brady grinned back at her, less guarded than he usually seems. “I got you something.”

“You didn’t need to,” she said.

“You’ll love it, it’s a giant panda.”

“Um, that’s, gosh, Brady, that’s…”

Brady roared with laughter. “It’s not a panda, honey.”

Honey?
She grinned sheepishly. “You can’t blame me for being worried.”

“This is something I hope you’ll like better.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket, handed it over.

Amber lifted the flap, peeked inside. “A NASCAR pass?”

“A hard-card,” Brady said. “It says you’re a member of our team.”

Amber inspected the hard-card, which bore the Matheson Racing name.

“I know how you feel about racing,” Brady said. “But it’s a big part of your mom’s life. I’m a big part of her life, too, and I’m a NASCAR man through and through. You don’t ever have to come to another race if you don’t want to. But this—” he indicated the hard-card “—is here for you if you want it, and so is the team. Matheson Racing is yours as much as mine and your mom’s, as much as the boys’. You’re family, Amber.”

She blinked rapidly. “Brady, that’s very sweet. Thank you.”

“Oh, honey.” Julie-Anne hugged Brady, then Amber, and for a moment it looked as if all three of them would be in tears.

A knock at the motor home door dissolved the tension.

“Come in,” Brady called.

Ryan entered. “Hello, sir,” he said. He nodded to Julie-Anne. “Mrs. Matheson.”

Amber’s stomach flipped. “What are you doing here?” After she’d run away from Patsy’s party, he’d backed right off. He’d been polite at work, but he’d given no clues he wanted to kiss her again. Which, she had to admit, she regretted. She hadn’t been able to forget that kiss, and she was starting to think she was being unreasonable to assume the worst just because he was handsome and personable.

Her unintentional abruptness had Brady and Julie-Anne staring. But Ryan turned on that cocky grin of his.

“Hey, Amber. My motor home is only a block away,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding her question.

“Well…hi,” Amber said, aware her mother was waiting to see some common courtesy.

“I was just wondering if you might want to come back to my place for a drink?” He was still grinning, but there was something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Was it…insecurity?

“Don’t you have a race to run tonight?” she asked.

“I meant a soda. Or coffee.”

She’d missed him, missed talking to him, missed his attentions. “I guess I could,” she said casually.

Brady stepped forward. “Are your folks there, Ryan?”

Amber blinked. Brady sounded for all the world as if he might pull out a shotgun if Ryan’s intentions weren’t pure. As if he was
protecting
her. Something softened in her chest.

Julie-Anne rolled her eyes. “Amber’s twenty-nine, Brady.”

Ryan gasped with feigned shock, and Amber stuck out her tongue at him, more like a ten-year-old than a woman who was too old for a bratty race car driver.

“My mom’s in,” he told Brady. “It’s my parents’ motor home, so I have to share it with them.” Many of the NASCAR Nationwide Series drivers didn’t have their own motor homes, Amber knew.

She couldn’t figure Ryan out. He was flirtatious as heck, clearly knew his way around a woman. Not to mention he was funny, polite when he chose to be and kissed like a dream. Yet for a guy who could have any woman he wanted, he sure was persistent where Amber was concerned. As if he really did like her. And now he planned to introduce her to his mom. Amber’s father had been estranged from his family. Was this more evidence she could trust Ryan?