Old Flame, New Sparks

by Day Leclaire

  “Wise decision.” He leaned forward, crowding her in the hopes it would drive home his point. “And when you speak to him, you might want to remind him that Food Basket is paying for his ride this year. That ride won’t last long if he messes with the owner’s daughter.”

  She didn’t back down. Nor did she allow his physical presence to intimidate her, despite the sexual awareness that flowed with such reckless abandon. “I can handle my son,” she retorted in a fierce, taut voice. “You said your piece, now back off.”

  “Fair enough.” He shifted to one side, though not as far away as he suspected she’d have liked. “How’s he holding up?” he asked, deliberately changing the subject.

  “Fine.” She bit off the word, refusing to let go of her anger. “He’s just fine.”

  “Don’t go getting defensive again. He’s an eighteen-year-old kid who’s been thrown into the big leagues. That can’t be easy.” He tilted his head to one side. “Just out of curiosity, why didn’t you start him off in the NASCAR Busch Series?”

  “It was Jinx’s decision.” Her anger lessened, pride taking its place. “And Jamie’s good. Very good.”

  “A few years’ seasoning wouldn’t have hurt. If anything, it would have given him more confidence and a chance to hone his craft. You’ve thrown him in the deep end and he could very well drown. Dead in the water stays dead in the water. You don’t recover from that.”

  “You’re not saying anything I haven’t already considered,” she surprised him by admitting. “But Jinx was adamant. Even my dad backed him.”

  “Darrell supported Jinx’s decision?” Lucas asked in surprise.

  “All the way. He said that in all his years in the business, he’s only seen one other driver with as much talent as Jamie.”

  “And who was that?”

  The change that came over her surprised him. She stiffened and took a quick step back. “I—I don’t remember.”

  “Liar.” He regarded her with lazy amusement. “Come on, spill. Who was it? Jinx?”

  “No.”

  His mouth compressed. “Tell me it wasn’t Whaling.”

  “Not him.” She met his gaze and he saw the answer in the haunting blue of her eyes, saw it even before she told him. “It was you, Lucas.”

  Feedback from a microphone screeched, preventing the need for a response. Just as well, since her comment had swept every thought from his head. He forced himself to focus on the dais. Leo and Stephanie stood on the curtained platform and waited for the excited chatter to fade.

  “Welcome, folks,” Leo said. “We’d like to say how delighted we are to be a part of the NASCAR NEXTEL Cup Series family. And we’re downright thrilled to be sponsoring one of the hottest, most exciting new drivers to hit the circuit in many a year. Please welcome back the legendary Number 56 car, driven by Jamie ‘Jinx Junior’ Hammond.”

  “Oh, God,” Kellie whispered.

  Lucas doubted she was even aware that she’d clutched his arm. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I wish Leo hadn’t called Jamie that.”

  Lucas shook his head. “I don’t get it. What’s the problem? Doesn’t he like being compared to his old man?”

  “He loves the idea of having inherited Jinx’s skill.”

  Damn. “It’s being another jinx that has him worried.”

  “Yes.”

  The curtain parted and Jamie stood there in his uniform beside the redesigned car. The bright green and gold gleamed beneath the overhead lights, showcasing Food Basket’s colors and logo. Jamie was grinning, but Lucas sensed a level of nervousness beneath the brash smile. Normal, given the circumstances. But he suspected Kellie was right. What kid in Jamie’s position wouldn’t worry about having inherited the family curse? It would be a tough legacy to overcome, especially if the press decided they liked the handle “Jinx Junior.” And as catchy as it was, he suspected the media would be all over it.

  “He’s going to have to come to terms with it sooner or later,” Lucas said. “Everyone has bad luck. There’s not a driver out there who hasn’t wrecked on one occasion or another.”

  Kellie gave an impatient nod. “I don’t disagree with that.” A frown of concern creased her brow. “The question is…can Jamie accept those incidents as part of the sport? Or is he going to blame it on the family jinx?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “WELL, FOLKS, it’s finally here. The Sunday you’ve all been waiting for. In just a few short hours the NASCAR NEXTEL Cup Series season will start with a roar heard ’round the world as forty-three drivers vie for stock car racing’s most prized reward—a win at Daytona.

  “This is the most prestigious race of the NASCAR season. A win here is the most sought after of all the tracks in the circuit. Despite being a restrictor plate race, speeds nearing 180 miles per hour and the infamous ‘bump drafting’ almost guarantee there being unavoidable contact at some point during the race. The main question is…who will get caught up in the inevitable collisions and who will bump his way to the front and take the first checkered flag of the season?

  “The answer to all those questions is just a few hours away.”

  “ARE YOU NERVOUS?” Stephanie asked.

  Jamie shrugged, not ready to admit that his stomach was so knotted up that he wasn’t sure he’d keep his breakfast down. “I’m mostly excited.”

  “We are, too.” She gazed up at him with huge, chocolate-brown eyes, eyes that reflected an unmistakable adoration. “Everyone at Food Basket’s rooting for you. We have signs up everywhere and cutout posters, too. We’re all wearing your colors. I’ve never seen so much green and gold in my life.”

  “Wow.” Now he was sure he’d be sick. “I’ll…I’ll do my best not to let everyone down.”

  “Don’t be silly. You won’t let anyone down.”

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and all of a sudden he didn’t feel quite as sick. What would she do if he asked her for a kiss for good luck? What would she do if he caught that pretty little lip between his own teeth? Maybe if he won the race she’d let him.

  An image blossomed to life in his head, of him standing in Victory Lane while confetti filled the air and champagne soaked his uniform. He’d stand in the door frame of his car and leap on top of his team. And then they’d poke a microphone in his face and ask how it felt to be just eighteen years old, win his first race ever and have that first win be at Daytona—an unheard-of feat. He’d laugh, full of confidence and pumped beyond belief at the win.

  “Guess this means you can’t call me Jinx Junior anymore,” he’d tell the world.

  Then he’d turn to Stephanie and he’d sweep her into his arms. And he’d kiss that beautiful mouth while everyone cheered. Best of all, she’d kiss him back.

  “Jamie?” She wasn’t gazing at him adoringly anymore, but with something more like concern. “Are you okay?”

  “What?” The dream faded. “Oh, sure. I’m great.”

  “You are worried, aren’t you?” A tiny frown pulled her brows together for an instant before a broad smile lit up her face. “I have an idea.”

  A kiss for luck? he almost said. “Something for good luck?” he asked instead.

  “Exactly.” Before he could drag her into his arms and claim his kiss, she pulled off the locket she wore around her neck and slipped it over his head. “Here,” she said, tucking it beneath his T-shirt. “This belonged to my mother. I haven’t taken it off since she died…until now.”

  “Oh, man. Are you sure?”

  Her smile was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. “Positive. See if it doesn’t help. Whenever you get nervous, you’ll know I’m right there with you, cheering you on.”

  Okay, it wasn’t a kiss. But it wasn’t bad. A girl as beautiful as Stephanie giving him her most prized possession as a good luck charm? “Thanks. This is—”

  Before he could get the words out, she lifted up onto her toes and feathered a swift kiss across his mouth. “And that’s for luck, too,” she said, hot
pink sweeping across her cheekbones.

  He couldn’t have asked for a better send-off. Filled with sudden confidence, he leaned down and dared to steal a second kiss. “I’ll see you in Victory Lane,” he said.

  KELLIE RAN THROUGH a final check of her notes as the pre-race meeting started to break up. The three drivers and their crew chiefs had congregated in the plush conference room that took up the entire front section of Lucas’s Wolf Sportsman hauler. As last year’s NASCAR NEXTEL Cup Championship winner, he had the garage closest to pit road, as well as the number one spot for his hauler, a convenience she intended to take full advantage of.

  Lucas stood talking to his crew chief, Dipstick, a tall, heavyset man with eyes that possessed a permanent twinkle of humor and what most in the business called “the best mechanic’s hands” in racing. Jamie stood on the fringes, watching avidly, absorbing everything.

  “Did you find out what was wrong with the engine?” she asked Dipstick, glancing up from her notes.

  “Broken camshaft.”

  She frowned in concern. “Do we have to worry about Cole or Jamie having a similar problem during the race?”

  “Not at all. It’s not an engine defect, just one bad part. Since we brought the camshaft with us when we moved over to HRI, it shouldn’t affect your other two drivers.”

  “I’ll start at the back of the field because of the engine change, of course,” Lucas added. “But since Jamie’s back there, the two of us can hook up and work our way to the front.”

  No one had actually said it, but they all knew that Jamie had been lucky to make the race at all. Since he hadn’t participated in the series last year, he’d had to qualify his way into the field by being one of the fastest of the cars not guaranteed a spot in the race.

  “I’m not all that far ahead of Jamie,” Cole said, joining in the conversation. “I’ll watch out for the kid.”

  “Really?” Jamie glanced from one driver to the other. “You’d both draft with me?”

  Cole stepped to Jamie’s side and dropped a companionable hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Why not? It’ll give me an opportunity to knock some of that rookie shine off you.” He offered the boy one of his patented smiles. “But once we get toward the front, it’s up to you to stay with me.”

  Jamie made a visible effort to maintain a professional demeanor, but a hint of boyish excitement slipped through. “I’ll do my best.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Jamie turned to Lucas. “You’ll draft with me, too?”

  “No bump drafting going into the corners,” he said. “I know you’ve seen some of the wrecks that happen here when an overly enthusiastic driver’s too aggressive with his bumper. Not a bad strategy on the straightaway, but going into the corner, it’s a disaster waiting to happen.” He spared Cole a brief glance. “If the three of us team up, we should be able to get to the front within a couple dozen laps. That way we can all pit together should the race stay green, so we don’t lose the draft.”

  “Last ten laps, it’s every man for himself,” Cole added with a broad grin. “This is one race I intend to win.”

  “Agreed.”

  Jamie’s eyes shone. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.”

  Kellie suppressed a smile and buried her head in her notes. When she looked up again it was to discover that, with the exception of Lucas, the place had cleared out. Sudden awareness swept over her like a tidal wave, and the urge to compensate for the unwanted sexual tension made her more formal than she’d have been otherwise.

  “Sorry. I was so caught up in work, I didn’t realize everyone had left.” She stood, straightening her notes and attaching them to her clipboard. “I’ll get out of your way.”

  “You’re fine. No hurry.” He continued to study her with a keenness that prompted an instinctive wariness.

  “What is it, Lucas?”

  “How did your talk with Jamie go?”

  She didn’t need to ask which talk. He could only mean the one she’d promised to have regarding Stephanie. “Uncomfortable for both of us,” she replied. “But I said what needed to be said.”

  “I’m not sure how that’s possible, considering they’re dating.”

  Kellie tossed her clipboard onto the table. “Stephanie has a father, Lucas. I’ve spoken to him about the situation. We’ve established reasonable ground rules for the two of them, though there’s only so much we can do considering they’re both eighteen.” She rubbed at the tension headache forming at her temples. “I can promise you one thing. They’re not going to get into the same predicament we did.”

  “Or that you and Jinx did?” He eyed her curiously. “Does Jamie know?”

  “He knows I was pregnant when Jinx and I married. He’s also enough of a math whiz to subtract his age from mine and come up with ‘too damn young’ when figuring out how old I was when I had him. Not to mention the lecture he’s heard at least a dozen times about combining teenage hormones with massive stupidity. Trust me, he gets the message.”

  “You can’t afford to lose Food Basket as a sponsor.”

  She glared at him. “Credit me with some common sense. I do know that.” She fought for patience with only limited success. “I’m giving you some latitude here because, like it or not, you’re my partner and deserve to be in the loop. But this situation isn’t any of your business. It’s personal.” She made a point of emphasizing that final word, not that it made much impact.

  “Everything that affects HRI is my business,” he corrected. “Especially something that might cause trouble for one of my oldest friends or have an adverse financial impact on a company I’ve paid a pretty penny to purchase.”

  “Wait a minute.” Her frown deepened. “Do you think I’d do something underhanded to harm HRI or diminish its value, just to hit out at you?”

  “Not if it meant hurting Jamie.”

  “Only if it meant hurting you.” It wasn’t a question.

  “You tell me.”

  She knew he had a low opinion of her based on their past, but it never occurred to her it was this bad. Anger battled with distress. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Lucas. I wouldn’t do that to anyone.” She needed to have her say and didn’t care whether or not he believed her. “I know you don’t trust me. Not after what happened between us all those years ago. That you think I’m…I don’t know…a gold digger or something. But I’m not and I never was. I’m also aware that nothing I can say will change your opinion. I’m just hoping that over time, you’ll get to know the person I’ve become instead of the irresponsible child you remember.”

  He actually considered her words, before nodding. “Seems fair.”

  “Good.” She picked up her clipboard again. “Because here’s the other side of that coin. I don’t give a damn whether you approve of me or even like me. All we have to do is work together. Got it?”

  “Oh, I’ve got it.” He came for her. In the confined space of the hauler’s conference room, it only took a few steps to reach her. With one quick tug, he had her tumbling into his arms. “There’s just one minor correction. You may wish it’s all business between us. Hell, I know I do. But there’s one small problem that keeps getting in our way.”

  The clipboard clattered to the floor. “What?”

  “This.”

  He molded her against him, the fit sheer perfection. She slipped between his thighs as though she’d been shaped for just that purpose, their bodies aligning curve to angle. There was something about the feel of a man’s body—the lean hardness, the tempered strength—that awoke an awareness of her own femininity and intensified it. It had been so long since she’d been held like this. Been kissed with a man’s passion rather than the chaste sweetness of a friend. She needed this. Needed it more than she’d realized.

  He gathered her up, focusing on her to the exclusion of all else. A shudder of longing trembled through her. This was wrong. So wrong on so many levels. But right now, she didn’t care. She’d willingly pay whatever price fate
decreed for this brief indiscretion, if it meant having a taste of the forbidden one more time.

  Slowly, so slowly she could have screamed in frustration, he lowered his head. His mouth brushed hers. A sampling, teasing and incomplete. Then another one, as though testing the suppleness of her mouth and figuring out the best possible way to join their lips. She knew he’d come for her now, sink deep and long. That this final kiss would be the one she’d waited nearly nineteen years to experience again.

  She actually swore when someone hammered on the door of the conference room, a single bitter punctuation to the interruption. Without a word, Lucas released her and stepped back. Somehow he managed to recover his equilibrium in those few seconds while she was still caught in the backwash of emotional turmoil. In one smooth move, he swept up her clipboard and handed it to her.

  “To be continued,” he murmured.

  And just like that, he opened the door to business, while closing and locking it on everything else, leaving Kellie more off balance than she’d been in nearly two decades.

  THE FLAG DROPPED at precisely four in the afternoon and the field drove straight toward the fading sun. The level of noise never failed to astonish Kellie as it echoed across pit lane. Lifting her binoculars, she watched as her three cars flashed across the start/finish line. Cole in his distinctive blue-and-silver Perfection Tools car hugged the bottom lane and zipped by. Farther back she found her son in his green-and-gold Food Basket, maintaining his position on the outside lane. And finally, Lucas’s shiny black car with its distinctive bright red flames brought up the back of the pack.

  She remained on her feet for the first few laps around the two-and-a-half-mile track, the same as the crowd, checking the monitor on the war wagon when the cars moved out of view around Turn One. On the fifth lap, as they headed toward the front stretch, approaching 180 miles per hour, the car directly in front of Cole lost control and spun.

  Kellie gripped the railing and watched the crash unfold. The wrecking car pirouetted in a graceful 360, sending up a billowing cloud of brake smoke. She could tell Cole was standing on his brakes, holding his line as he waited for the spinning car to slide into the infield grass or up the track. It went up, clipping the wall and then ricocheting across the track into oncoming traffic.