Authors: Wendy Etherington
“Of course it is. Who’d feed and nag you?”
Again, he got the odd sensation that she was deliberately making their conversation casual. He, however, was concerned. He wanted to make sure she was satisfied and happy. He needed reassurances that they were secure as a couple.
Hell, maybe he
did
need his man card revoked.
“Who’d nag me?” he asked, going with her teasing tone. “Oh, just my mother, my sister, the crew chiefs, engineers and fabricators. Carmen, our office manager, being the mother of three, is also an expert. Even my dad—”
“You need to release some of that tension.” She took the coffee mug, setting it and the empty plate aside. “Should we go jogging around the lake or…” She glanced back at the rumpled bed.
An insatiable Darcy was beyond enticing. And burning calories could be accomplished in ways besides running.
W
HEN RACE MORNING DAWNED,
Bryan woke with his stomach clenched.
Despite the fact that Darcy lay next to him, her breathing deep and even, her beautiful face relaxed with sleep, he couldn’t stay in bed.
Life couldn’t be all shared cheese omelets, cool sheets and heated sighs.
At least not
his
life.
He slid out of bed, then leaned over and brushed the back of his hand across Darcy’s downy cheek. He inhaled the scent of her tropical-fruit-and-vanilla perfume, which he’d actually discovered the night before was a lotion she used twice daily—one he’d generously volunteered to rub on her to make sure she covered all the important spots.
After a quick shower, he dressed in jeans and a GRI candy-apple red polo shirt. No matter what happened that afternoon, no one could deny where his loyalties were placed. He recalled vividly the morning he’d gotten up six years ago without a trophy from Indy, but by the time he’d gone to bed—in the champagne-soaked wee hours of the morning—he had that precious goal checkmarked.
Finally.
At the moment, and especially now that he was retired, he was incredibly proud to have his name as part of the long and storied history of the grand track. All the greats had kissed those famous bricks, and he wanted the same for Cade.
The excitement, anticipation and nerves his brother
would feel that day were familiar to Bryan. They’d once been his life, too, after all.
He knew Cade had eaten his traditional night-before-race meal of lasagna and garlic bread sticks. He’d wake up and go through his morning routine in an exacting order. He’d wear his lucky socks and hunt down Parker to make sure he was carrying the lucky penny. He’d do nothing out of the ordinary or anything to tempt Fate.
Was it all just a bit silly?
Sure, but Bryan would never tell a driver that. He’d done the same thing. Just as those before him had, and those who’d come after him would.
Has it really been six years since I won here?
It meant he’d been retired for nearly five full seasons. His entire career in NASCAR Nationwide and NASCAR Sprint Cup Series had only spanned that time period. In an odd way, he still thought of himself as a driver, not an owner.
Darcy woke up as he was tying his tennis shoes. “I thought I was the early riser in this relationship.”
Crossing to the bed, he sat beside her. He tucked her tousled hair behind her ear on one side, then leaned down to kiss her. “Sympathy stress for Cade.”
“Hmmph. For Cade, huh? How about you?” She sat up and stretched her arms over her head. “No Indy win for GRI since you took over as head honcho.”
“You’ve been talking to Rachel.”
“Actually, it was your dad who shared that tidbit.”
He sighed. “I’m so glad I don’t have to worry about some slick-talking dude like Parker coming along and stealing my girlfriend. I can count on my own father for that.”
“He brings me chocolate, and I listen to his dating woes. It’s a beautiful relationship.” She curled her arms around his neck. “And don’t worry about Cade. He’ll be fine.”
“Is that right?” Since she’d insisted on sleeping in a baseball-style shirt with Cade’s number and colors, he knew he wasn’t the only one trying to send positive vibes his brother’s way. “I’d be happy if Shawn or Kevin won, too, you know.”
She kissed him briefly. “No, you’d be content.” She climbed out of bed.
“You don’t have to get up for me.”
“Hey, I’m a supportive girlfriend. I’m here for you in your needy and desperate times.”
“I’m not needy or desperate.” He watched her hips sway as she headed toward the bathroom. “I have you in my bed at night, in the morning, and actually the afternoon could be fun, too.”
“Exactly. I’m used to losing sleep.”
He leaned against the door frame of the bathroom while she started the shower. “So you’re reluctantly dragging yourself awake as a show of devotion to me and my anxiety?”
“Well…”
“You’re cooking breakfast for the teams, aren’t you?”
Whirling, she planted her hands on her hips. “Who’ve
you
been talking to?”
“Big Dan. I was going to wake you up before I left if you weren’t already.”
She pouted briefly. “I’m still concerned about your anxiety.”
He kissed her forehead. “Don’t be. We’re going to win, you know. I can feel it.”
“Don’t say the
W
word to Cade—or anybody on the team.”
“Right. The jinx.” He reluctantly turned away. They had their last off weekend coming up at the end of next month, and he mentally made a note to ask Parker for a good island spot to take Darcy. He’d love to pamper her and spend huge chunks of time with her while she wore nothing but a bikini.
“Can you give me fifteen minutes?” she asked. “We’ll go together.”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I need my breakfast, too.”
As she tossed a washcloth at him, he closed the door and headed to the kitchen. He started the coffeepot, then peeked out the window.
He saw no one moving along the rows of motor homes, but he knew there were plenty of people stirring inside. The garage would open within minutes. The team members—from engineers to front tire changers—would arrive, driving in from their hotels, anticipating hot coffee and the rush of adrenaline. Express planes would bring in the families and crews
who hadn’t come for the whole weekend. The media center lights would flicker on, and the stories would begin to unfold.
After the lousy practices, Cade and the other drivers had qualified well. His brother was starting fourth, which was critical, since the race was rarely won by anyone not starting in the top fifteen.
Would he be the story of the day?
True to her word, Darcy appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later. She wore jeans and her No. 56 red-and-white shirt, the Huntington Hotels logo emblazoned proudly across her chest. Her eyes were bright, her lips glossy pink.
He handed her a disposable cup full of hot coffee.
She took a sip, then hugged him. “You’re my champion.”
“At least until my dad steals you away from me.”
“Jealous?”
He opened the door and led her out into the muggy morning air. “Intensely.”
“Don’t worry.” She linked their hands. “We’d wait a respectable amount of time before we ran off to Vegas and eloped.”
“Funny. You’re really funny.” He drank his coffee as they walked through the compound toward the garages and pushed away the ridiculous image of Darcy hugging his father in any way other than friendship. He wouldn’t put such a vile manipulation past his ex, but Darcy? No way. “You said Dad
had dating woes. I thought he’d let his resentment of the florist go. He and Leanne seem inseparable lately.”
“They’re…okay.”
“So, what’s going on?”
Darcy glanced at him. “Do you really want to go into this on race morning?”
“I guess not. Is there a quick summary?”
“He’s looking for a way to reconcile with your mother.”
Bryan ground to a halt. “Not on race morning.”
“I assumed not. So we table the discussion.” She tugged his arm, getting him moving again. “But your mom’s coming today, so in between all those critical fuel mileage calculations, you might want to glance around and notice how your dad acts around her.”
“Between fuel mileage calculations, I’ll be pacing, talking to my drivers, talking to my crews and crew chiefs.” He sighed and fought the battle between being an owner and a son. Surprisingly, the son won. “How do you know?”
“I don’t
know.
It’s a gut instinct.”
Darcy’s gut was usually right. On some level, he and his siblings had never given up hoping for reconciliation between their parents. To Rachel, it was practically a quest. For years, Bryan blamed himself for the breakup, as his accident seemed to be what brought everything to a head. But Rachel had sat him and Cade down last summer and explained that while
his accident had been a catalyst, it had simply been a reminder of his dad’s mortality.
His dad was afraid he was missing out on life. He’d moved out to reclaim his youth. And even last year, his sister suspected their father regretted his decision to turn his back on decades of marriage. He just didn’t know how to go back.
Better than anybody, Bryan understood regret. He understood how it felt to be abandoned the way his mother had; he understood his father’s desire to live life as if you were invulnerable. But how could they realistically repair their marriage? How would either of them ever be able to trust the other again?
Would
he
ever trust again? He was crazy about Darcy. Their bond as both friends and a couple was strong. He couldn’t say he’d ever been friends with Nicole.
Could that make the difference? Could he and Darcy last long-term? Wasn’t the idea that he was even considering her and the words
long-term
together a sign that he, like his father, was letting go of his past? That he could move beyond old pain and resentments?
“Here’s where I need to peel off,” she said as they reached the garage. She glanced up at him and squeezed his hand. “Wish Cade my best.”
“I will. And save me some breakfast.”
Her grin flashed. “I’ll do my best. Your guys are a hungry bunch.”
“But I’m the boss.”
“Uh-huh. How about
you
tell them that at mealtime?”
With more reluctance than he wanted to admit, he let her go. He actually stood still, watching her walk away, her hips swaying before he shook himself from the melancholy thought that he’d miss her. He liked having her by his side.
Melancholy?
There’s no melancholy in racing.
Dismissing his weird thoughts, he headed to Cade’s garage stall. As expected, Sam was there, gulping coffee along with his team. The car chief and one of the crew members were checking each and every part and piece of the car to be sure everything was accounted for and in its proper place before it was due to go through the tech inspection process mandated by NASCAR. Bryan joined Sam in his silent stare at the car, as if they could push it to the front of the field by a sheer force of will.
“How are we?” Bryan asked the crew chief.
“Good as we can be. Cade’s edgy.”
“I noticed.”
“Seen him this morning?”
“Not yet. Expect him any minute, though.”
“You check the war wagon inventory?”
“Twice.”
“You talk to the other teams about their fuel mileage?”
“’Bout the same as Cade’s.”
They stared at the car again.
“How are we?” Cade asked when he walked up a few moments later.
“Good as we can be,” Sam said again.
“Is that good enough?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe.”
Cade paced.
“At least everybody qualified well,” Bryan said.
“So did a lot of other fast cars,” Sam pointed out.
“What fast cars?” Cade asked. “Faster than mine?”
Bryan wasn’t in the mood for Cade’s manic energy. If his brother didn’t slow down a little he wouldn’t have enough energy to drive four hundred miles.
Before Bryan could point out that fact, Emily, the PR rep for Huntington Hotels, stopped in front of him and Sam with plates of steaming hot egg-and-cheese breakfast sandwiches.
“Darcy made you a protein shake,” she said to Cade. “Do you want it now?”
“No, thanks.” He waved his hand. “Too nervous.”
Bryan and Sam thanked Emily and shook their heads at their driver. He’d have to eat something before the race. “We can always call Isabel. She’ll force him to eat.”
“Good idea.” Sam glanced at Bryan’s plate. “I got bacon on mine.”
“I see that. And when you can’t button your pants because all that fat has settled on your belly, I know who to call to work it off.”
“I guess you do.” Sam took a bite of his sandwich, chewed thoughtfully, then announced, “If you don’t marry her, I will.”