On the Move (22 page)

Read On the Move Online

Authors: Pamela Britton

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary Romance, #Sports & Recreation, #Automobile Racing, #Motor Sports

B
RANDON THOUGHT
he might throw up. Not since the time he’d started his first race had he felt so nervous.
Vicky was here, he thought, staring around him. Vicky had grown up here—the most amazingly huge, thoroughly intimidating, multiacre estate he’d ever seen, one that he knew must be worth somewhere in the neighborhood of a couple hundred million dollars. Sure, he’d known Vicky had money. She had a trust fund, for goodness’ sake. But this…

They’d stashed him out in the picturesque garden that stretched around him for at least an acre. Stately trees and blooming shrubs—the flowers potently scented—sprouted around a gravel path. That path wound away from the main house like Dorothy’s yellow brick road. Wealth. Power. Prestige. It was all evident here.

And to think, on his way here he’d entertained the notion—however briefly—of having Vicky sign a prenup now that his fortunes were changing and he might actually end up richer than her one day soon. But then he’d admitted, Vicky would likely have his head if he were to ask such a thing so he’d decided not to ask. Now he admitted she would be within reason to ask
him
to sign something, that was if she even agreed to see him.

“Brandon?”

He turned and saw Vicky standing on the pebbled walkway, her long hair loose around her.

“There you are, VanCleef,” he pretended to grumble because he had to do something. If he didn’t, he’d pull her into his arms. “I’ve been waiting for you for the better part of an hour.”

She stopped just in front of him. She wore a floral dress, and it suited her. She looked soft and feminine and more beautiful than he remembered.

“Oh, yeah?” she asked in an exaggerated drawl. “Well, maybe I’ll make you wait another hour.”

That’s what he loved about her, he realized. Vicky would never let him push her around. She would never be the type to stand by while he worked at something alone. She’d be there, by his side, day in and day out—and more than likely giving him what-for.

“I thought you’d refuse to see me,” he said.

Suddenly she went still. “Why would you think that?”

He walked toward her, took her hand. “Because I was a fool.”

“But you’re here now,” she said softly.

“And I’m still scared you’ll say no.”

“Well,” she said softly, “maybe you should ask me your question first, whatever that question might be.”

He smiled. “Maybe I should,” he said.

She placed a hand against her stomach as if she might have butterflies there or something.

He knew how she felt. “Victoria Prudence VanCleef,” he said, taking her hand. “And I can’t believe your middle name is Prudence—”

“Hey,” she half laughed. “It’s for a favorite aunt.”

“Well, we’re not naming one of our kids Prudence.
That
I draw the line at.”

“Kids,” she said, tipping her head up at him. “I thought you didn’t want kids.”

“I thought so, too,” he said. “And I’m still not so certain I’m up to the task. My own upbringing, it was so messed up—”

“But we’re different.”

“I know,” he said. “Or more importantly, you’ll be what’s different. We’ll have each other, and with you by my side, I feel as if there’s nothing I can’t do.”

“Oh, Brandon.”

He grabbed one of her hands, got down on one knee. Inside the black velvet box he held open was her mother’s two-carat ring—compliments of her father.

“The ring I got you was three carats,” he said, noticing she’d gone absolutely still. “And it was gaudy. I like this one much better.”

“It was my mom’s,” she said in a low, tear-filled voice.

“I know,” he said. “And I’m hoping it fits, because, Victoria Prudence VanCleef, I would really like you to marry me.” He heard her inhale deeply, and when she didn’t immediately answer asked, “Will you?”

“That depends,” she said, tugging him up.

Leave it to Vicky to turn a marriage proposal into a negotiation. “On what?”

“If you’ll kiss me again, just so I know this is real, that this isn’t a dream…”

He cut her off. To be honest, it was his favorite way to silence Vicky.
Her
favorite way, too, judging by the way she kissed him back, and then he forgot all about three-carat rings and children named Prudence because she’d opened her mouth and he knew that he had his answer. She slid her hands around his neck, drew him closer. There was joy in her kiss, and tenderness, and passion. Oh, man, a whole helluva lot of passion….

“Now, now, you two. That’ll be enough of that,” someone said.

They broke apart, Vicky staring up at Brandon with love in her eyes before she turned to the woman who’d spoken.

Elaina stood near them, and miracle upon miracle, she was smiling. “We don’t have time for passionate kisses,” she said, tapping her watch. “
We
have a wedding to plan.”

Brandon glanced at Vicky. “Well?” he prompted. “Do we?”

And she gave him a smile unlike he’d ever seen before, one full of love and happiness. “We do,” she said softly.

EPILOGUE
“T
HEY’RE HERE
,”
Vicky said, racing down the steps of their recently refurbished ranch home and into the spacious family room where Brandon sat waiting. “I saw the bus turn into the end of the drive. They’ll be pulling in any second now.”
“Vicky,” Brandon said, standing. “Calm down. You could have broken your neck coming down the steps like that.”

“Nah,” Vicky said. “Not today. Not with our very first kids arriving.”

Their kids, Brandon thought. Is that what these kids would end up being? Their surrogate children? He had to admit, it was a possibility. The children on the bus were from a variety of backgrounds. They’d put the word out months ago, asking the directors of public-assistance programs to give them the names of children who might benefit from their newly developed program, and now those children were here.

“Scared?” he asked.

“No,” she said. Then her face softened. “I’m not scared of anything with you by my side.”

He pulled her to him and Vicky sank into his arms willingly. They’d poured so much of themselves into their boys’ ranch. Well, Mathew and Kristen Knight had helped, too. So had a number of his fellow drivers. As a result, the Rocking “B” Boys’ Ranch had turned into a state-of-the-art facility consisting of six modular homes, twelve-stall barn, corrals, a learning center, a gymnasium, cafeteria and a whole host of other things too numerous to list. He and Vicky had been humbled and overwhelmed by everyone’s generosity.

“I love you,” he said softly, because suddenly he couldn’t speak.

“I love you, too,” she said, leaning back. But her face fell. “Brandon, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I think I’m scared.”

“About what?”

“I’m thinking to myself, what if this was a stupid idea? What if everything we’ve put together falls apart?”

“Brandon Burke, don’t be ridiculous. The kids will love the Rocking B. It’s fantastic. We’ve hired the best counselors. We found kids who need our help. And right now those children are about to see for themselves that somebody
loves
them. They may not recognize that love at first—just as you didn’t—but eventually they’ll come to trust you, just as
I
did.”

Brandon stared into the eyes of the woman he’d married. She was his anchor in rough seas. The one thing that was right on those days when everything seemed to go wrong. The only person in the world who knew all his deepest, darkest secrets…and still loved him.

“What would I do without you?” he asked.

She placed a hand against his face. “Race cars. Drive car owners crazy. Make headlines, but not in a good way.”

He chuckled. She was so right. In the past year he’d nearly made the “Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup,” signed a new contract with KEM for triple the money he’d made before, and, more importantly, used the money from the contract she’d negotiated to open a boys’ ranch that would, with a little luck, help troubled teens turn their lives around.

“Now. Are you ready to go outside?” she asked.

“No,” he said softly. “I want to hold you a moment longer.”

“You better hold me for a lot longer than a moment,” she teased, eyes bright. “You better hold on to me for a lifetime.”

“Oh, I will,” he said gently, bending to kiss her. He meant it to be a quick peck, but as always happened when he touched Vicky, it quickly grew into something more.

“Now, now,” someone said from behind them. “None of that.”

They sprang apart. Elaina VanCleef stood there, a chiding expression on her face, her formerly glamorous appearance a little more rumpled nowadays thanks to her tireless help with their project. “Don’t you realize you’ve got a bus full of kids out there?”

“We know, Mother,” Vicky said, but there was a smile on her face.

Elaina came forward and kissed Vicky on the cheek. She did the same to Brandon. “I’m proud of you two,” she said softly.

“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Brandon said.

“No, you couldn’t have,” Elaina said with a mischievous grin. “Now, let’s go outside. I want to be on the front porch when the kids step off the bus. I can hardly wait to see the look on their faces.”

That was the biggest surprise of their marriage, Vicky thought. She and her stepmother had grown closer than ever before. It turned out Elaina was born to organize projects like their boys’ ranch. In fact, now that she was done there, she’d taken on a similar project up in New York. Granted, the operation would be on a smaller scale, but Elaina didn’t mind. She was diving into the project with both feet, just as she’d done with this one. Vicky didn’t know what she would have done without her help.

“Come on,” Vicky said. “We better get going before she turns into a wicked stepmother.”

“I thought she already was one,” Brandon teased.

Elaina pretended to be offended, but they could both see the sparkle in her eyes. “Your father’s already down there.”

“Well, all right then,” Vicky said, her heart starting to beat fast all over again. “Let’s go.”

Elaina led the way, but before Vicky could leave, Brandon pulled her back into his arms. “Just one last kiss before all hell breaks loose.”

“What?” she said. “You afraid of a few boys?”

“Terrified,” he admitted.

“Don’t be,” she said. “You’ll do fine.”

He would, just as he’d do fine when their own kids arrived, something that was due to happen far sooner than Brandon knew. Just a short while ago, Vicky had taken a pregnancy test. It’d been positive. She was bursting with the news but she wanted to wait to tell him. She’d do it later, when they went to bed and all was quiet in the house.

But it was hard to keep quiet, especially when his lips met hers and joy burst through her soul unlike any she’d ever experienced before.
Tonight,
she thought to herself, savoring the taste of his lips.
I’ll tell him tonight.
That would be the perfect end to a perfect day.

“Let’s go.”

As he took her hand, Vicky knew that today marked a new beginning, not just for them, but for the boys out there, too. Children whom she hoped would flourish with a little love, just as she and Brandon had. Just as their own children would.

As it turned out, that’s exactly what happened.

Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for your letters and e-mails. I want you to know how much your words of encouragement mean to me. So many of you have said that my books have helped you through a troubled time. Well, your words have helped
me
through the dark days and for that I’m eternally grateful.
I try to answer each letter, but sometimes I get behind. Rest assured, I will respond to you if you write. For those of you new to my books, I have a Web site at:
www.pamelabritton.com.
There you’ll find up-to-date information on
all
my books. For those of you without computer access, you can snail mail me at: P.O. Box 804, Cottonwood, CA 96022.

Once again,
thank you for everything!

Pamela Britton
ISBN: 978-1-4268-2140-0

ON THE MOVE

Copyright © 2008 by Pamela Britton.

NASCAR® and the NASCAR Library Collection® are registered trademarks of the NATIONAL ASSOCIATION FOR STOCK CAR AUTO RACING, INC.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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