Authors: Audra North
Crazy becoming normal.
Already, he could feel it. That
he
was turning into one of them.
Not that he meant any offense; not really. He liked Lee well enough, he supposed, and Nancy was a lot like Mom, but it wasn’t the big-money world of major corporations that he was used to. He didn’t like what it said about him, that he was already feeling comfortable in a world that didn’t revolve around success measured by what was in your financial portfolio.
Except for Kerri, that is. She sure as hell didn’t make him feel
comfortable
. No. She got under his skin and made him want to haul her off to bed for days at a time. She had more courage than any man he’d ever met. She made him question what his life was about, and at the same time … she gave him hope.
He didn’t like that.
That’s why he had to get the hell out of here. In fact, if he could just get things to a point where he could hire a competent manager to come in and see everything to its completion, maybe he could. He and Kerri didn’t have to pretend to be engaged for the entire season—at least, they wouldn’t have to be seen together all the time after the gossip about Earl died down. He could say he was traveling on other business. And then he wouldn’t have to be stuck here for the next six months, and he wouldn’t be constantly tempted to bury himself deep inside Kerri and never come out.
Yes. He nodded to himself. That’s exactly what he would do.
“Gentlemen … and Kerri! Start! Your! Engines!”
Kerri rolled her eyes at the Grand Marshal’s words and flipped her ignition switch, letting the roar of forty screaming engines drown out her annoyance. She knew the guy meant well—most of them
meant well
—but singling her out like that only reminded the other drivers and the fans that she was the outlier. The woman.
Not that being a woman was a bad thing. Dad had taught her to love who she was on the track, and that’s all that mattered. Usually.
But now there was something else in her thoughts constantly reminding her that she was a woman, but for very different reasons. Something that mattered more than she wanted it to.
Yesterday’s kiss.
No. Yesterday’s kisses.
Shit and damn. She and Ranger hadn’t had much time together yesterday after the press conference. She’d had to help the guys finish tuning the car so it would be ready for today’s race, then she’d headed over to the Cran-Tasty tent—Cran-Tasty was still one of their sponsors, after all, even though the money they contributed barely covered fuel expenses—to meet fans and sign photos.
During that time, she’d managed to convince herself that the unbelievable attraction she’d felt for Ranger had been the result of an explosive situation. But as soon as she’d arrived back at the hotel last night and seen him sitting in the restaurant just off the lobby, looking tense and tired, jacket off and sleeves rolled back to reveal muscled forearms, she’d wanted him even more than before.
She’d never been more aware of being a
woman
than when she was around Ranger.
But she couldn’t afford to get lost in his arms—or his kisses. It was just a show. She had to remember that. Any more involvement than superficial pretense was a liability.
Her only defense against him was to try to be as prickly as possible. Sure, they were supposed to be dating, but any
real
attraction between them would only complicate things. The less they actually spent time together, the better. She could deal with a few of those hot, incredible kisses if she had time enough in between to get over them.
She definitely needed to stop thinking about him now. The race was starting. She had to focus. Directly ahead, the pace car rolled forward, seeming to pull the pack along. She shook off thoughts of Ranger and drove the one lap behind the pace car, getting into the groove of the race. By the time the pace car pulled off and the green flag went up, she was ready.
She zoomed ahead, staying with Colby Meadows, an Intercomm Cup driver. They went like that for a few laps, until he pulled ahead on a straight.
No big deal. She hadn’t expected to catch him. His car was faster, his technique better, honed by a few more years of experience. Bit and the crew had done a great job with adjustments yesterday after her practice session was cut short, but the car still needed work.
“Nolan coming up on your right, Kerri.” Lee’s voice came through the earpiece. “He’s pretty close. You might want to—”
Screeeeech!
Tom Nolan came up alongside her, too close, scraping the side of her car.
“Motherfucker!” Kerri shouted into her helmet, knowing she was probably deafening Lee and Grady, but that goddamn dickhead had just done that on purpose when she had no room left on the inside to move away.
Fucking Tom Nolan was one of the Granoff team drivers and an absolute jackass. Tom was a true hothead, what the newspapers tried to make Kerri out to be. She might have fast reflexes and a loud mouth, and sometimes she made mistakes, but Tom did things on purpose. Like right now, their cars were trading paint, sparks flying every time he came up against her as he intentionally tried to intimidate her.
Kerri fought for position, gripping the steering wheel and praying she could shake him on the corner that was coming up. She could see Tom gesturing through his window, something foul no doubt.
“Who is that shit-for-brains?”
Ranger.
That was Ranger’s voice. “I thought I told you to stay the fuck off the motherfucking channel!” She knew she was being too harsh, but all the rage she felt at Tom had nowhere else to go at the moment.
“Don’t you know any other words, sweetheart? Not that I don’t like it when you talk dirty to me.”
And why did he always seem to respond to her frustration like that? With a smooth, low, sensuous voice and innuendo that threw her off. She hated the way he said things like that. Hated the way the words made her body respond, as though she were naked and laid out beneath him begging for his touch, instead of behind the wheel of a high performance machine that could be run off the track any second. Tom continued to bump her, though he seemed to be getting bored and was starting to pull ahead a bit.
No.
It was one thing to give up a position to Colby, whom she respected and even revered. But it was something else to be pushed down by someone like Tom.
“Pull tight on the corner and you’ll lose him, Kerri.” That was Lee.
“You can do it, Kerri.” Ranger again, but this time his voice was serious. The drawl was gone, and for the first time, he’d called her by her name. She felt an odd thrill zip through her body.
“Get ready; you’re going in keep it straight for a little longer you’ve got the space you—” Lee’s words were fast and breathless, and she could practically see him pressing the binoculars so hard against his face that he’d end up with red ring marks. She waited until the last possible minute to cut the wheel hard to the left, leaving Tom with no choice but to slide to the outside of the track and shake loose. She zoomed ahead, laughing.
“Nice job, sugar. I knew you could do it.”
This time, Ranger’s voice on the line made her grin. Thank God he couldn’t see her face. He might think she actually
liked
him.
She decided to ignore him. “Car’s still loose in and loose out. Tight in the middle.” She swung out of the curve, noticing that Tom was now two cars behind her.
Serves the sonofabitch right.
“We’ll see what we can do when you pit.” That was Grady. “Eight more laps until the first scheduled stop. Until then, just try to maintain.”
“Roger that.” The line went silent.
Kerri raced.
* * *
Ranger was next to Grady in the pit, wearing heavy-duty headphones. Those engines were
loud
. When they’d all driven in to the pits for the first scheduled stop, it was like hearing a thunderclap from
inside
his brain.
He’d done as Grady asked and stayed up on the booth, out of the pit crew’s way, even though he’d wanted to go down to Kerri to see if she was all right. He wanted to kill that asshole who’d been attached to her right side for the entire straight right before the first stop.
He’d asked Grady about it.
“That’s Tom Nolan. He drives for Granoff Racing. That’s the second biggest operation behind Riggs Racing. He’s also a tiny little shit who talks a lot of smack and drives dirty. Earlier in the season, he was telling everybody that most of the time Kerri wouldn’t have the killer instinct to be great, but to watch out when she was on the rag.”
Ranger had fumed. Nolan deserved to be beat down for talking so crudely about Kerri.
But Grady had seen the dark look on Ranger’s face and given him a wry smile. “Thing about Kerri is that she doesn’t let it show how much it gets to her. She’s good about that, but no one seems to notice. They’ve labeled her as a hormonal head case because she’s a woman, when the truth is that I’ve seen some of these guys throw the biggest hissy fits in history over the smallest things. Kerri’s never pitched her helmet at a crew member or hauled off and punched someone after a race, but she’s seen as the queen of tantrums when she so much as throws her hands up in the air in frustration.”
Grady let out a huff. “There was one reporter who was badgering Lee a few months ago and Kerri told him to get lost. The article that guy ended up writing made it sound like she’d tried to claw his eyes out. This was the same reporter who got punched in the face by Kenny Gomez and called it a gentleman’s disagreement. No way that doesn’t get to Kerri on some level.”
Now the pack had just completed the hundred-tenth lap, and although Ranger had thought he might be bored with nothing to do, he’d found himself riveted to the scene on the track. The whole time, Grady had been communicating with Kerri, and he could hear another voice on the line, giving Kerri guidance on her position—which cars were close by, which ones were coming up behind her, trying to pass. It had taken him a while to figure out that Lee was the one providing all these details.
“Where’s Lee, anyway?”
“Spotting.” Grady pointed up to the skybox.
Ranger didn’t bother to look. “Is spotting allowed in the box? It doesn’t seem like a good place to spot for a race.”
“Not in. On top.” This time, Ranger squinted up at the box, and his eyes went to a balcony above, where a group of people were standing close to a heavy railing that looked like it had been installed for just this purpose.
He gave a low whistle. “Isn’t that a bit rough, especially when he’s racing trucks, too?”
Grady raised a brow. “We’ve all got more than one job around here, Colt.”
Well, shit. Add another item to his list of things that were broken. It was hard not to feel like he’d never get this company out of the red. It was the only thing he needed to claim victory over Al at this point. He was damned sure that if Hart Racing made even a dollar in profit, he could point to that figure and claim it as a raging success.
The thing was … the more he learned about Kerri and the team, the less important the money seemed. Racing was their life, and they loved it. The money seemed kind of a secondary success.
No. Don’t go thinking that way. Al won’t accept anything less than numbers. Money. Profit.
Right?
For a second, Ranger faltered. Al had never actually said anything about money when he’d given Ranger the Hart project. Instead, he’d sat behind his fancy desk in his big office, squinted at Ranger, and drawled,
You want to move forward, you have to go back first. Get back to your roots.
Had he gotten it wrong?
No. Don’t go trusting that guy. Al is all about money. He’s all about the kill. The win. Don’t go sowing hope where you’ll only end up with disappointment.
He gave a heavy sigh.
“Now with only seven laps to go, Meadows leads by an eighth of a lap, with Hart and Simms battling for second position.” The announcement boomed over the stadium PA system, and Ranger felt his pulse jump. Kerri had managed to hold on to second place position for most of the race, moving back and forth with Harlan Simms, another driver who competed in the Intercomm Series.
It was nothing short of amazing. Everything he’d learned until now made him realize just how skilled a driver she had to be to maintain her place against these guys, how hard she was working. Grady had told him that temperatures in the car were often well past a hundred degrees, probably around one-twenty today. The racing suits that the drivers wore even had aluminum shields in the legs to protect them from getting burnt from the heat.
“Holy shit, I think she might actually hold it at third!” Grady’s exclamation interrupted his thoughts. Grady was rising, straining to see the far side of the track, where Kerri and Simms had just entered the turn.
He could hear Lee on the channel, spouting information fast and furious as the pack came out of the curve and zoomed past them on the straightaway.
“Six more laps, Kerri. You got this. Don’t let up. Don’t let up.” Grady’s face was fierce as he spoke into the mouthpiece on his headset.
Ranger found himself standing then, too, craning to see the action as the cars whipped around the track. He could feel his excitement build. If she won this race, it would make his life that much easier. It would mean access to more sponsors. To more
money
.
To success.
Right now, the contributions from their two biggest sponsors, Bee-Well Health Products and Cran-Tasty Beverages, didn’t even cover the expense of the two stock cars and single truck in Hart Racing’s inventory. Luckily, most of the garage equipment had been bought outright, but there were always updates in technology, employee salaries, travel expenses … right now, that was all coming out of the cash injection that Colt International had provided. Winning races meant prize money, but more importantly—sponsorships, possibly endorsements …
“Coming into lap one-fifteen, ladies and gentlemen, and Simms is pulling ahead. Is he—yes, he’s going after Meadows. Hart still holding on at third with Nolan on her tail.”