Racing Outside the Line: A Love Story at 190 Mph (33 page)

I felt myself trembling again and smiling like a giddy schoolgirl. I knew people were around us, and I could hear their voices, but my body and soul were so wrapped up in Seth that I couldn’t tear myself away from him. He moved his arms to my back where they worked in calming circles as I literally clung to him for dear life. If I let go, I would have melted into a little puddle on the ground. My muscles were all tensed as I fought for some sort of control over them. "Relax, love, relax, I
have
to let go of you before I devour you right here and now, but you have to stop trembling first." Willing my body to respond, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, my head fell to his shoulder, then as he stood up straight, I leaned my head against his chest. Inhaling the scent of his cologne mixed with everything that was Seth was calming and exceedingly sexy at the same time. I did my best to focus on the calming aspect of it.

It was a delayed response, but as I looked up at him, I couldn’t hold it back, "Right now, I’m thinking that wouldn’t be such a bad thing." His laugh was loud and full as he crushed me back to his chest before giving me a peck on the lips.

"Later, love, later," he said through the roll of his laughter before letting his arms fall from around me. He shook his head and gave me that you’ll-be-the-death-of-me look again as he grabbed my hand to pull me forward.

Gary was sitting in the passenger seat of the vehicle referred to as "Kenny" while Gene sat behind the wheel shaking his head and laughing at him. "You’s blind is all, boy."

"I… didn’t… How could I… He’s never before," Gary mumbled incoherently.

"I know, I know," Wyatt reassured the poor guy, "you couldn’t have known, he’s been waiting for her since she was fifteen. No one really understood it all except them."

"Well, crap, I just lost the freaking bet." Gary seemed to have come to grasps with the idea of Seth being married. I felt bad for him now since he really couldn’t have had a clue.

"What bet?" Wyatt persisted.

"Well, we had this pool going on for how long it would take him to find another chick and whether she’d be blonde or brunette or redhead or related to one of the drivers and how long ‘till he proposed and all that. It’s quite complicated, had the engineering guys work it out on a big board and everything." While we stood there listening to the absurdity of this bet, I rolled my eyes in the direction of the other vehicle to find Desmond’s hands all over Chelsea as he showed her how to drive the vehicle.

"So, I was down for two weeks ‘till you date a blonde related to an official, and a year before you propose again. I lost twenty bucks."

"I lost too," volunteered the guy I recognized as one of the crew. "I was closer, though, I was down for a brunette related to a crew member in one week. I didn’t see the married thing coming, though, that’s really gonna throw the guys, can’t wait to tell ‘em." He threw himself into the seat next to Wyatt. "Let’s go see their reactions. We’ll tell ‘em then you can drive up, and you can prove it to ‘em."

Seth nodded, but did his own eye roll before tugging me to the other vehicle.

"Chelsea’s drivin’," Desmond announced through intermittent instructions. He was smiling sweetly as he pointed to different controls on the vehicle. His arm was draped across the back of her seat, and he was leaning close to her. I looked up hopefully at Seth, but he shook his head with grave solemnity.

"Damn," oops, I’d meant that to be internal. Chelsea turned around to look at my little outburst.

"I promise not to kill you both." She looked at least momentarily happy, which made me feel a little less guilty.

We were parked further than at the last race, so it took several minutes to navigate to the motor coach, but eventually we arrived. Seth carried our suitcases into the motor coach and put them in our room. It was officially "our room" now.

Chelsea looked over at me as I reemerged from the motor coach, "Round one didn’t go so bad, as far as I could tell. What’s round two?"

"The crew," I grunted.

Chelsea threw her arm around me, pulling me toward the vehicle as Desmond and Seth came out of the motor coach with coffee in their hands.

"Hey," I pouted, "where’s mine?" Seth handed me his tall cup, and it was heavenly to take a sip. Coffee made everything in the morning feel better, and since it was only 9:00am, it was certainly coffee time.

Chelsea looked at Seth, "What about me?" Desmond came up from behind her, resting his hand on one shoulder and bringing his other hand in front of her to place his coffee cup in her hands.

"I can share too. We don’t have time to make another pot." I couldn’t miss him kissing her on the cheek before adding, "There’ll be more in the hauler."

We climbed back into "Cartman," and Seth drove us over to the garage. Chelsea, who was seated next to me in the back, reached out and grabbed my hand offering me some much needed reassurance. "This place is huge. I had no idea all this went on at a race. You have to explain it all to me, I mean I know we just came from where everyone sleeps, but where are we going now?"

I knew she was doing her best to distract me, but I was thankful for it. "These long buildings are where all the cars are parked, it’s where they work on them to get them ready for practice, then qualifying, then practice again, then the race." We passed some of the garage buildings. "See that glass window? That’s where the fans can look in on the garage and see what’s going on. They aren’t allowed inside, but they can walk by outside looking in at what the crews are doing." We pulled up to the front line and drove between the haulers and the garages. "Those are the haulers. That’s how the cars get here. They all have an upper deck that holds two cars, the one they intend to race and the backup car that they use if something happens to the first one in practice or qualifying. Below is the galley where they keep all their supplies and equipment. In the front, you can’t see it, but there is a lounge area with a fridge, microwave, and big plasma TV."

That was the end of my tour as we pulled up to the garage. The second we were within view, everyone stopped working and looked at us. Not just everyone in our garage, either, two garages on either side of our car had eyes glued to us as well. The angry horde of butterflies in my stomach suddenly became caught up in a hurricane as Seth got out and turned back to me. I handed him his coffee cup, and he took a drink before taking my hand. He threaded his fingers through mine and I could definitely feel that his palms were sweaty. Well, well, well, Mr. relax-it’ll-be-fine, was nervous just like me. Although, since they already thought of him as a god, I didn’t know why he was nervous. Perhaps he was afraid of how they would treat me. That was sweet, but when it sunk in, it only added stronger winds to the hurricane of nerves storming around in my stomach.

Desmond was doing his best to keep up a nonchalant conversation with Seth, telling a story about someone doing something that I just couldn’t focus on. Everyone was looking at us and they weren’t smiling or laughing; they were judging. Seth pulled me forward, but I noticed that he was holding my right hand at an angle that kept me partially behind his back. It was a protective gesture, and I moved closer to him placing my left hand on his upper arm. Gary strolled forward, turning to give the guys in the garage a dirty look. He put his hand out to me, palm up, obviously wanting me to place my hand in his. I looked up at Seth questioningly.

"Seth, they just don’t believe me," Gary said as he put his hand out more insistently to me. Seth finally nodded at me, but the look on his face was ridiculously stern as he turned to stare down each guy in the garage. Tentatively, I put my hand in Gary’s as he pulled me forward. Holding onto my safety line, I grasped Seth’s hand, but he let go of me leaving me feeling a little panicked. Gary pulled up my left hand and pointed to it, "See? Diamonds like these don’t just grow on trees, boys."

A short skinny little guy stepped forward, "She could be married to anyone, Gary. How do we know that Seth is really the one who put that on her finger? I think he’s trying to pull one over on us."

"Do it, Paulie, I dare you," came a voice from the back. Then several more joined him, "Yeah, Paulie, you’re so sure, I dare you." There were giggles and a few shouted, "I bet you twenty bucks you don’t have the guts." What was it with guys and bets anyway? All my life guys had been screaming out bets to each other. If I had been smart, I would have just gotten someone to bet Seth to marry me years ago, and he probably would have done it.

I turned confused eyes on Gary who was shaking his head vehemently at everyone. "She’s his wife, you morons!" he shouted just as the skinny guy lunged forward at me. I felt my eyes bulge as his hands touched my face and his lower body insinuated itself against mine inappropriately. I was taller than he was and probably heavier than him, he was like a little toothpick. Although I had no experience fighting, I was pretty confident that I could snap this kid in half, if necessary.

I heard Seth charging angrily up behind me just as my knee connected with the right location on Paulie’s body. He doubled over, his face still turned up to me with his lips puckered out, and I couldn’t stop myself from pulling back my hand and punching him in the eye. He crumpled to the floor in pain as Seth loomed over his body. The look of fury on Seth’s face was enough to make the strongest man on earth cower in fear. Poor Paulie looked as if he might soil himself. I pushed myself in front of Seth.

"Seth, NO," I pushed at his shoulder, "I took care of it. Besides, he’s humiliated enough that a mere woman kicked his ass." Before I could get Seth to pull away from Paulie, Desmond joined in with an "I’m going to rip your arms off" face of his own.

"Regardless of whether you believed she was married to Seth or not, that’s still
my sister
you just pawed, you son of a bitch!" Desmond was roaring with anger, and since Seth had finally straightened up and stepped back, I turned to push Desmond back.

"Des, you taught me well, didn’t you? I took care of him." Desmond wasn’t as angry as Seth had been, but he still grumbled as he let me push him back a few steps.

Poor Paulie crawled away with the help of Gary who announced, "I think you’d better hide out in the hauler the rest of the day, kid."

I turned back to Seth as he pulled me into his arms, crushing me to him. "I’m sorry," he spoke in a loud voice still ringing with anger and frustration, "I really thought better of them."

I heard several guys mumble, "Sorry, Seth."

A few of the guys I recognized from my trip to the shop stepped forward, "Geez, Seth, we didn’t think he’d actually do it. You know Scrawny Paulie, he’s all talk."

"Ridiculous talk," another explained, "but he never lives up to it, guess he got tired of us teasing him. We wouldn’t have egged him on, if we’d known he was actually going to do it."

"Alexis, we’re really sorry, we swear, we really had no idea he would actually—I mean," he turned back to the other guys in the garage who were all nodding with sincerely apologetic faces, "we shouldn’t have encouraged him to force himself on you, we just really didn’t think he was capable of it. He’s such a little chicken shit. Sorry, ‘scuse my language." Poor guy was flustered. He ran his fingers through his hair. I took pity on him because clearly Seth wasn’t going to.

"It’s okay," I insisted turning to pat his arm, "I understand. I’ve grown up around Seth and his racing crews. I know how you guys are." Seth’s jaw was still clenched, and I could still feel the tension in his embrace as he stared daggers at his crew members. "It’s fine, but I hope this means that you believe us now or I might have to punch all of you." I made a fist and punched the air to illustrate my point, but that made me realize that when you punch someone, it freaking hurts. I shook out my hand and winced.

They laughed at my joke, and I laughed in an attempt to encourage everyone to relax. Seth, on the other hand switched from seriously pissed off to completely concerned in a heartbeat. He held my punching hand and looked at it, pressing on my knuckles. I winced some more, but it wasn’t excruciatingly painful, just a bit sore. "It’s fine," I said quietly to Seth, but he didn’t seem very reassured.

Gary returned from aiding and abetting Paulie’s escape. He went back to reasoning with the crew, "Seth’s not a good enough actor to fake anger like that." He looked back up at Seth with a smile, "Shit, Seth, oh—sorry" he corrected glancing back to me, "I thought you were gonna kill Paulie for a minute there, then Des joined in. Crap, you two are freaking scary when you’re pissed! Anyhow, I haven’t yet said congratulations." He held out his hand to shake Seth’s and reluctantly Seth took his hand. This erupted into all the guys coming forward to congratulate him, and most of them shook my hand as well, some of them simply nodded to me while cautiously watching Seth’s reaction.

So my new husband was frighteningly intimidating. I had to smile over that. His protectiveness was another comfort, even if I hadn’t really needed it. I was proud of myself too, I had defended myself. If Seth hadn’t been there, I still would have been fine, and that was a comforting and empowering thought as well.

When discussions turned to the race car and how it was handling, I stepped back to rejoin Desmond and Chelsea. Desmond was pointing to different things around them and apparently explaining them, while Chelsea took it all in. I knew Chelsea well enough to know that she would keep acquiring information until she had mastered whatever it was she was learning about. Knowing that, I figured it would take her about three hours before she understood all the ins and outs of racing. She was very perceptive.

"Well, that looked fun," Chelsea’s sarcasm added to my own.

"Thrilling, actually," I rolled my eyes, "time of my life, really."

"Look at Seth," Desmond instructed, "he’s still pissed, really pissed, thank god he’s not racing today, we’d lose for sure. He makes stupid mistakes when he’s pissed, hence his irrational behavior last week. He’s lucky Jake’s a good friend or he’d have wound up with another black eye after that debacle of a race. He was screwing up all over the track." I remembered once when he was racing Late Models and the guy who parked next to us in the pits picked a fight with him on purpose so that Seth, who had the better car, would screw up and lose. It worked, too.