by Ella Jade
The front door burst open and Wade came through in a rush. He stopped short in front of Rebecca, scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I can’t leave with us this screwed up.”
“What did you expect?” She grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and led him back outside to keep his voice from waking her family. “You kept important—major—information from me.”
“I didn’t want anything to change between us. I didn’t want to cause unnecessary stress if all negotiations with the franchise ended up falling through.” He stared out into the darkness, his jaw tightened, his teeth clenched. “I didn’t want to risk giving up a single day with you if I didn’t have to.”
“Do you know how selfish that sounds?”
He nodded and turned his intense gaze to her. “Do you know how impossible it is to stay away from you, to stay away from Dalton? You two are important to me, and if I’m being honest, the only reasons I considered not signing.”
Why did he have to make staying angry with him so hard? In spite of what a jerk he’d been, she really was happy for him. His hard work and dedication to obtain his goals spoke volumes. Until tragedy struck with her sister, she’d been on a path of her own ambition.
“I get it, Wade. Don’t feel bad for leaving.” She placed a hand flat on the center of his chest, making her own twitch. “You’re getting all you wanted. I’m excited for you.”
He took her hand and kissed her palm then dropped his lips lower, kissing the inside of her wrist. “Do I have you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said I’m getting all I wanted, but if I don’t have you, Becks, you couldn’t be further from the truth.”
Rebecca went up on her toes and latched her hands behind his neck, confliction consuming her. “If I tell you yes, you’ll leave me. If I tell you no, you’ll still go.”
“So you won’t tell me either way?”
“Nope.” She brushed her lips across his. “I’ll save the answer for if you come back.”
“When I come back, and I will.” He smiled big, hugging her tight. “I couldn’t leave you forever, even if I wanted to.”
“We can make it work.” Rebecca’s heart fluttered. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy. They could do this. It didn’t matter how far apart they were, she and Wade would always find a way to be together.
“Let me take Dalton to breakfast in the morning. I need to tell him myself.” Wade kissed the top of her head. “Do you think he’ll be happy about great seats to the home games and a sideline pass every now and then?”
“He would one-hundred percent love it!” Rebecca was thrilled Wade might be able to ease Dalton’s disappointment of his new hero going away.
Wade’s fingertips went under her chin and tilted her head up. The instant their gazes locked, he said, “Kind of like I one-hundred percent love you?”
Rebecca’s chest filled with erratic heartbeats. She couldn’t believe he’d said he loved her. Did she want him to? Was it too soon? Did she love him back?
“You love me?” she repeated.
He nodded. “A lot.”
Rebecca swallowed hard. She’d never told a man she loved him, but she’d also never felt this way about anyone. She’d never had someone make her feel whole the way he did. “Wade?”
“Yeah?” He brushed his lips against hers, sending shivers straight to her toes.
“I one-hundred percent love you too.”
About Lisa Huffman
Lisa Huffman has been creating stories as long as she can remember and is proud to take readers on a journey with her words. Lisa lives in a small town in North Central Arkansas with her husband and teenage son. She also writes steamier stories under the pen name Sidda Lee Tate.
Lisa’s Website:
www.authorlisahuffman.blogspot.com
Reader eMail:
[email protected]
More Beachwalk Press Titles by Lisa Huffman,
writing as Sidda Lee Tate
The First Night
Hijacked
Give in to Me
Can’t Let You Go
The Night Series Box Set
Love in Victory Lane
by CJ Bower
Racing is all Catalina Bryant has ever wanted to do. She’s spent the past fifteen years climbing the ranks and paying her dues, which included fighting off slurs and innuendos regarding her gender. Overcoming many setbacks, she has finally made it to the highest level in NASCAR and is on the eve of starting her rookie season.
Her new crew chief, Chad Kiesgen, is incredible. He has a strong work ethic and amazing integrity. Just the guy to help her reach her goal. However, she hits a speed bump when the sizzling chemistry between them carries over to their personal lives, which could damage both of their careers.
There’s another man lurking in the background who wants Cat for himself and will stop at nothing to claim her. Will Cat find love in Victory Lane, or will her career crash and burn before she leaves the starting line?
Chapter 1
“Whoa! Easy, girl.” Catalina swerved back and forth to keep her racecar off the wall around the outside of the track. She let up on the accelerator, the banking slowing her down.
“What happened?” asked the voice through her headset.
She pressed the button on the steering wheel. “She stepped out going into the corner.”
“I saw that.” The deep drawl was colored with dry humor. “What happened?”
She drove into the pits. The vibrations shaking her backside ceased as she shut down the engine. Moments later she stripped off her gloves and disconnected the wheel from the hub. Removing her helmet, she levered herself through the window.
“Talk to me,” her crew chief, Chad Kiesgen, demanded, coming to a halt in front of her.
Cat thought back to the moments before the car broke loose. “I think I hit a slick spot.”
“Was it the track or the car?” Chad cocked his brow, his eyes hidden behind designer sunglasses. “Or the driver?”
She tamped down the flash of irritation at the slight dig. She may be a Sprint Cup rookie, but she knew her way around a racecar. “I felt a subtle vibration shift right before the car broke loose.”
“Front or back?” Chad didn’t let up.
“Back,” she said decisively.
The team swarmed the car like ants, going through a routine pit stop minus fuel. The tire specialist examined each tire thoroughly.
“Chad,” Gabe said, gesturing. “I think I found it.”
Cat followed her crew chief over the wall to where the engineer knelt beside the tires that had just been removed from the car. “What is it?”
“The valve stem sheared off.” Gabe pointed to the right rear tire. “And look here.” He switched to the left rear, indicating the elliptical opening in the rim. “That’s from a loose lug.”
“I want all lugs tightened on every stop,” Cat insisted.
“Deal,” Chad said. “How was she otherwise?”
“Fast,” Cat replied. Today’s practice session also doubled as an audition. “I handled the car well. Drew’s making the right decision to move me up.” Despite her bold, confident statement, her hands trembled slightly. With ten wins and finishing all three of her Xfinity seasons in the top ten, she was chomping at the bit for a full-time Cup ride.
“We’ll see.” Chad climbed atop the pit box, donning his headset. “Give me twenty more.”
Gladly. The only place Cat felt like her life wasn’t falling apart was inside her racecar. She shimmied back through the window and put on her helmet before reattaching the wheel.
“How’s the radio?” Chad’s voice came through the buds in her ears.
She keyed the mic. “Loud and clear.”
Moments later the roar of the monster engine shook the chassis, and she rumbled down pit lane. Cat accelerated on the apron and hit max speed, coming out of the twenty-four degree-banking in turn four of the Charlotte Motor Speedway. Her whole
body tuned into every sound and vibration as she drove into the corner, washing up the track coming off the banking in turn two. A quick jerk on the wheel kept her off the wall.
“That move’ll cause a wreck in traffic,” Chad warned.
Cat said nothing as she rocketed down the backstretch at one-eighty before easing into the corner.
“That’s one,” Chad said as she crossed the start/finish line. “Thirty-seven point two.”
She took her second lap, following the imaginary line she’d created on the first. Diving to the bottom in turn three the car still drifted up, but not as much. A slight tug on the wheel kept her in the groove.
“You shaved two-tenths off your first lap,” Chad said.
“Ten-four.” Cat drove around the track, lap after lap. Chad was a soothing voice in her ear, keeping her calm and focused.
“Five to go,” he said as she crossed the stripe again.
“You look a lot smoother than when you started.” The second voice came from her spotter, Zane.
“How does she feel?” Chad asked.
“Fast and loose,” Cat replied. “I’m trying different lines, and she’s sticking in the turns.”
She ran the rest of her laps and drove back into the pits, braking to a stop in front of her crew. Disengaging the safety equipment, she shimmied through the window.
Chad wrapped her in a headlock. “You knocked off four seconds from first lap to last.”
Cat was impressed with herself. “The car felt great. All the adjustments were right on.” She’d been racing long enough to know the terminology, and grasped the finer subtleties between fast and loose. She was born to race, having been turning wrenches with her mechanic father before she could walk.
Gabe beamed. “This car seems to improve over long runs.”
Chad released her. “Let’s see how she does in the Daytona testing.”
Cat punched him in the arm. “Thanks a lot.” She stripped off the thick Nomex gloves as she made her way back across the garage to the hauler. “Jerk.”
“So that’s what you really think of me.”
Chad’s voice behind Cat made her jump. “I can’t help if the truth hurts.”
The double-edged sword pierced her heart, and she used sarcasm to mask the hurt. She wanted the guys to see her as one of them, but she also wanted to be noticed as a beautiful woman. Is asking for both really too much?
Sliding open the mirrored doors, she entered the back of the hauler without waiting for his reply and marched up the center aisle to the front conference room. The smells of exhaust, burning rubber, and grease permeated her skin and hair as she changed back into her street clothes. I need a shower.
Cat hung the purple and silver suit in her locker and joined Chad and Gabe in the galley. Gabe was at the counter, his laptop open. She stopped beside him. “How do the numbers look?”
“You did good.” He examined the spreadsheet he’d printed. “You don’t chew the tires. You take care of your equipment, and you have the drive to win.” His leathery cheeks flushed crimson. “Pardon the pun.”
“Thanks, Gabe.” Her eyes briefly locked with Chad’s. The searing heat in his gaze made her heart flutter. She nodded as she left the hauler via the side door.
* * * *
Examining her figure in the full-length mirror on her bathroom door two nights later, Cat was aware she didn’t look like a typical stock car driver. Not even a female one. The deep purple, sleeveless satin dress skimmed her slender form, and glittery silver pumps added three inches to her five-foot-ten height. Her hair was artfully styled in wind-swept curls, and she’d applied her makeup carefully for the evening’s event, using a shimmery neutral color palette. Purple and silver chandelier hoops draped from her ears, and a large amethyst cabochon hovered above her miniscule cleavage.
Grabbing her purse and keys, Cat locked the door of her apartment and rode the elevator to the parking garage. Her heels echoed off the concrete as she strode to her brand-new Chevy Silverado. Climbing into the big truck took some maneuvering with her gown and shoes, but she managed without snagging her heels on her hem.
Driving west on I-85, Cat drove into downtown Charlotte toward the posh hotel for her event. Flashbulbs nearly blinded her as she emerged from the truck and passed the keys to the valet. Why doesn’t the manager do a better job of protecting the hotel’s guests from reporters?
“There you are!” Her car owner’s voice boomed over the din as she crossed the ballroom. “You look stunning, as always.”
She embraced the stout man in a jovial hug. “Thank you, Drew. I told you I’d be here.”
“And you’re only fifteen minutes late.” Chad pressed a champagne flute into her palm.
She sipped the pale gold liquid, hiding the flash of irritation at her crew chief. “Damn traffic.”
“Andrew, old man!” Another man, in his late fifties, joined them a moment later. “Where’s this hot, young driver you’ve been bragging about?” His black eyes roamed Cat’s figure with a lewd gleam. “And who’s this delectable beauty?”
Without asking, he snagged her free hand and brought it to his lips. His hair was thick and black, shot all over with silver threads. His thick mustache, reminiscent of a cheesy seventies porn star’s, scratched the back of her hand as his lips lingered far too long on her flesh.
Cat used every ounce of self-control to not snatch her hand from the man’s grasp and douse it with the alcohol sanitizer in her purse.
“You’re looking at her.” Drew presented her in grand fashion. “Frank Handy, meet Catalina Bryant.”
“I’ll be damned!” the lecherous old man guffawed. “You’re such a bitsy thing. I never would’ve guessed you drive stock cars.”
At five-ten she’d never been “bitsy” by any stretch of the imagination, but she gave a cool, friendly smile to the owner of the company whose name was splashed across the hood of her racecar. “That’s the point. Let them underestimate me because I’m a woman.”
Drew grinned. “That way, it’ll be an even bigger surprise when she beats their pants off.”
“If she can keep it off the wall,” Chad muttered beneath his breath.
Cat discreetly tapped his ankle with her pointed toe. He winced, but didn’t cry out. She excused herself from Drew and Chad as she reflected on her career so far. Just like her dad, Cat had the drive and determination to succeed in racing. Navigating her car at one hundred and fifty miles per hour without wiping out half the field took all of her skills. Gabe was right. She took care of her car because she knew firsthand what it took to put one together.
One of the many sacrifices she’d made in the name of her racing career was a love life. Since her last relationship didn’t work, she preferred that her next boyfriend be someone outside the industry. Because she was at a different track every weekend from February until November, and doing promos and stuff when she was at home, her time was at a premium. She wanted a man who, at the very least, understood the demands of her job. Asking him to accept those demands was another story, which was probably why she hadn’t made any serious efforts to start dating again.
Yes, there were plenty of hot, available drivers in the infield, but she wasn’t a casual-sex kind of girl. Cat wanted a man who loved her for her, and didn’t try to change her the way her ex-boyfriend Kevin had. He’d degraded her, making her feel like less of a woman because she could compete. Personally, she thought he was embarrassed about having a girlfriend who finished ahead of him every week.
The mood of the party was festive, so she shook off her melancholy thoughts. Those she spoke with were excited for February, and shared her high hopes for the season. Cat knew she had a lot of work between now and then, starting with the tire test next week at Daytona.
“So, Cat.” Another financier placed his stubby fingers on her bare arm. “What do you think your chances are of winning a race this year?”
The man was only slightly less creepy than her sponsor. Cat deftly extricated herse
lf from his touch as she sipped her drink. “I’d say about as well as any of the other drivers out there.”
His eyes gleamed. “You’re a beautiful woman breaking into a male-dominated sport.”
His attitude was jovial and his remark was only mildly sexist, so she ignored it. Having spent many hours with her PR director, Deanna Parsons, making over her professional image and learning how to handle the numerous public appearances, Cat returned his smile. “I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last. All I want is a chance to prove myself.” Thank you, Deanna. “I’m so grateful to Andrew and Handy Electronics for this opportunity.”
“But realistically you’re more of a long-shot than, say, Jacob Stettler or Mark Rivera.”
“Granted,” she agreed. “However, if Andrew didn’t have confidence in me, he wouldn’t have put me in the car.”
“Well, you’re a sight better lookin’ than those boys.” The financier raised his glass in salute. “Best of luck this season. Knock ’em dead.”
Cat tapped her glass against his and sipped the tepid alcohol, hiding her grimace. She hoped toasting with flat champagne wasn’t an omen of bad luck for her rookie season. She excused herself as she shook off the feeling, leaving her glass at the bar, and strode to the ladies’ room.
Returning to the bar a few minutes later, Cat requested a glass of sparkling mineral water. She scrawled her signature across a beverage napkin for the bartender at his request and retrieved her fresh drink.
“There you are.” Chad caught up to her. “Drew’s looking for you.”
“What did I do this time?” she grumbled, following her crew chief back to her car owner.
He laughed. “I don’t think it’s anything you did.”
His deep, sexy chuckle made her stomach turn somersaults. The warm, fuzzy kind. “So, what didn’t I do?”
