by Helen Conrad
The pre-race program droned on and on. Announcers interviewed various drivers, but she didn’t see any evidence of Grant. She knew he was seeded high and should have a good starting position. But when they began to line up the cars, she couldn’t find him in the crowd of drivers. Every time the camera panned the field, she strained forward, trying to find him. Where on earth was he?
She paced during the commercials and, at one point, even called the long-distance operator to ask for the number of the racetrack. She had to know what had happened to him. But the telephone number didn’t do her any good. She dialed, but there was no answer.
Where was he? As the time for the race grew nearer, it seemed as though they’d interviewed every big name except him. What if something had happened to him?
The drivers got into their cars, the gun sounded, and they were off—and suddenly there was the familiar blue car with the number thirty-one emblazoned on the side—the car she’d seen in the background whenever he’d been on camera. Relief surged through her. He was all right, after all.
She got up to brew herself some tea, and as she came back into the room she heard his name mentioned by the announcer. Flying to the set, she turned up the volume, but whatever the item was, it had been lost in excitement, as there was a near accident on the track.
No one was hurt, but the fear was strong in her again. The blue car sped by, skidding into the turn, and her heart was in her throat.
“Please keep him safe,” she whispered, her hand covering her mouth. She was on the edge of her seat for the next two hours, scanning the screen for the blue car and crossing her fingers.
He went by again, and the announcer said that car thirty-one was in third place. She found herself smiling. “He won’t like that,” she muttered to herself. “Grant has to be number one.”
Her doorbell sounded, but she ignored it. She didn’t have time for chitchat with neighbors or kids selling candy bars. She had to search each frame for Grant’s blue car.
Her doorbell sounded again. “Whoever it is,” she called, “I can’t come to the door right now. Could you please come back some other time?”
Meanwhile her eyes were glued to the screen. She was actually getting excited, even though she was exhausted by the intensity of the worry she’d been going through. But if he was in third place, might he not move on up? And what if he won? Conflicting emotions warred inside her. He would love a win. Much as she hated the risks he was taking, she knew how much that would please him.
The bell rang again. “Oh, go away!”
She didn’t even look around when she heard the door opening. “Look, I’m really busy,” she began. But something stopped her words, and she whirled around quickly. And then she saw Grant. Standing right there in her doorway.
“You!” she breathed, stunned and confused. “But you’re supposed to be there.” She turned, pointing to the television screen.
“I left yesterday,” he said. “May I come in?”
She looked from him to the TV. “Then who is that?”
“My alternate driver. There are four of us on the team.”
“Oh.” Her mind was spinning, and she still didn’t understand. She looked at him, and his gaze held hers. Neither of them moved. The room was filled with tension, and there was danger there as well. Why was he here? What could he possibly want? Confusion swirled through her, and she reached out to lean against the back of a chair, afraid she might fall.
“You left the race?” she repeated at last, her voice quavering. “Why? Did something happen? Are you all right?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead he walked into her apartment and looked around, shoving his hands deeply into his pockets.
He looked so good, so tall and straight. She wanted to run to him, bury her face in his strength. But she didn’t dare. His face looked closed, unapproachable. Why was he here?
“Did something happen to your car?” she asked.
He turned slowly and looked at her. “No,” he said, so softly that she could hardly hear his words. “No, nothing happened to my car.” He took two steps, bringing himself only a foot or so away from her. “Something happened to me.” He shrugged, still staring at her. “I missed you.”
His words cut into her. She’d longed to hear him say them, and yet . . . She closed her eyes, then opened them again and glared at him. “Don’t, Grant,” she said, backing away. “Don’t do this. I could hardly stand losing you, and I won’t go through that again.” She shook her head. “Don’t you see that I’ve just about gotten my life back to normal again?”
The statement was ridiculous. How could her life be back to normal if she was so blatantly glued to the TV set, watching a Grand Prix race? But he didn’t challenge her. He stared at her for a long moment, then turned and looked around the room for a place to sit down.
“Could I have a drink?” he asked.
Her heart was pounding. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to kick him out or lock him in forever.
“Sure,” she said roughly. “Sit down. I’ll get you a beer.”
She came back with the drink and sat in the chair next to his. “Is your leg bothering you?” she asked before she thought, then flushed as he looked up at her, one eyebrow raised.
“You don’t think I came back for more physical therapy, do you?” he asked.
She looked away. “I don’t know what you came back for.”
“I came back for you.”
His words made her heart leap, but she was afraid to read too much into them. Still avoiding his gaze, she said, “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
He settled back, took a long swig of his beer, and began. “I went, and it was just like it always was. The food, the money, the women, the excitement. I loved it. I was at home with it all. Every reporter there wanted to interview me. I didn’t even have to race to be king of the hill again. I just had to show up.”
She sighed, looking at him despite her best intentions. His tremendous ego never quit, but she had to admit that she loved him for it. The sight of him filled her heart with joy.
“And then? What happened?”
“We did some practice laps. I could tell I had a pretty good chance of winning it, as long as I stayed healthy and the car didn’t fall apart. No problem with that.” He set down his beer and frowned at it. “But there was a problem with me.” Turning, he caught her gaze and held it. “I didn’t have it. I didn’t have the concentration.” He shook his head slowly. “I didn’t care enough.”
“But…but you cared enough to go…”
“Carrie, Carrie.” He groaned and leaned back in the chair. “Can’t you understand that I had to go?”
She stared at the cars buzzing angrily on the TV screen. “That sounds like more a-man’s-gotta-do-what-a-man’s-gotta-do garbage,” she said evenly.
“Stereotypes and cliches are usually built on truth,” he reminded her. “I had to go. And now . . . now I know I won’t ever have to go again.”
“What?” The shock of that statement rendered her speechless.
He leaned toward her, his eyes fixed on hers. “Something very strange happened. For the first time in my life I was scared. Scared of dying in a race.”
She stared at him, searching his face, hardly daring to take in his words.
“I’ve had a lot of friends die. Lousy waste. But when you’re free and all alone in the world, you’re only putting yourself on the line, and if you blow it, at least you don’t leave broken lives behind you.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s different for me now.” Reaching across the gulf that separated them, he touched her cheek with his fingertips. “I . . . I’ve got you.”
She gasped, turning her face into his hand, which had reached up to her.
“And there was one thought that kept bugging me,” he went on softly, his hand caressing her face. “What if I crashed? What if I died out there?” His hand closed around her neck, pulling her closer. “Then I would never see what our kid looked like.”
She wasn’t sure she was hearing right. “Wh-what kid?”
He’d pulled her into his arms by now, holding her tight. “The one we’re going to have together.”
She was sinking into a happy, golden haze of unreality. “Oh. That kid.”
“Yes. That kid.” He was kissing her face, one kiss after another, and she lifted it to him, the same way she would turn her face up to a warm spring rain. “And I have a great idea,” he murmured between kisses. “I want to get started on her right away.”
Carrie sighed. She’d meant to be strong. She’d meant to hold out for certain promises and a firm foundation of trust and understanding. But right now she didn’t care about anything but holding him and showing him how much she loved him.
“Don’t you mean ‘him’?” she asked drowsily as he lifted her into his arms and started for the bedroom.
“No,” he breathed into her hair. “I want a little girl who looks as fresh and beautiful as her mother. Then I can die a happy man.” He pulled her sweatshirt up high enough to reveal her breasts, nibbling at the dusky nipples as he carried her, and she giggled, wiggling in his arms.
“Careful. I wouldn’t want to drop the mother of my children.”
“Aha,” she said as he gently lay her down on the bed. “Now we’re already up to children, are we?”
“Sure.” He slipped off her slacks, sliding his hands beneath her lacy underpants and making her gasp, before he dispensed with those as well. “The more I see of you, the more I think you should be duplicated.”
He pulled the belt from his pants in one whip-like movement, then began on the buttons and zipper. Naked, he looked magnificent. She began to tremble, just looking at him. Could this gorgeous creature really be in love with her? Could he really be all her own?
She reached for him—her dream, her destiny. He slid inside her right away, because neither of them could wait. It had been so long, and within seconds the excitement had built, and they were both crying out, holding tightly to one another. The pure joy didn’t fade as they lay together, panting for breath but entangled still. It clung to them both, like a cloud of perfumed ecstasy.
“Are you going to marry me, lovely lady?” he whispered against her ear.
She was too sated with the aftermath of their lovemaking to remind him of what he’d said about that fine institution in the past.
“Are you really going to stop racing?” she asked instead.
“Yes.” He went up on his elbow and watched her beside him on the bed. “It’s a lot harder to go and risk your life when you’ve got something to live for.”
“Really?” She gazed up at him, frowning slightly. “You won’t have regrets?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. It took a lot for me to let down the team like I did, you know. I can’t imagine going back after that.”
“You’ll miss it.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, but not enough to change my mind.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t you see? You’re the one who made this possible. You taught me to dream again. You taught me that my life wasn’t over. You gave me back my self-respect, my desire to win.”
She sighed under his expert touch. “That doesn’t mean that you owe that life to me, you know.”
“Maybe not. But it does mean that I want you in on everything I do from now on.” He curled his arm around her. “For a long time I resisted loving you, Carrie. I knew I wasn’t good enough for you.”
She tried to raise her head. “Grant!”
“No, hush, just listen.” He held her close. “I was a bum, Carrie. I know that better than you do. But I’m not going to be any longer. I’ll make myself good enough for you.”
“The whole concept is ridiculous,” she said, scoffing. “But what will you do, Grant? What are your plans?”
“I don’t know. I’m not really sure. You remember when you told me I had the whole world open to me? You were right. And I know I’ll find something out there that I can take pride in.”
She grinned. “Or win at.”
“Of course.” He grinned back, finally seeing the humor in his mind-set.
There was a sudden burst of shouting and applause from the television set in the other room.
“Do you want to go out and see which team won?” she asked drowsily.
He only held her closer. “I already know who won,” he whispered into her hair. “And the only team I’m interested in is the one we make.”
She sighed happily and stretched her soft body against his hardness.
“You ready for another run at the finish line, partner?” he said teasingly.
She laughed low in her throat. “I’m game if you are.”
“Then hold on tight, he warned. “This time it’s going to be a long, slow ride.”
“Good,” she whispered. “Make it last a lifetime.”
And he did.
Epilogue:
The Next Generation
It was a plot. They were all in on it—all three of the women that the Carrington brothers loved. Jennifer started it, but it quickly grew to be a project they were all involved in.
They picked the perfect place for their scheme--the small offshore island of Tortuga del Mar. Around back, unnoticed by those on the regular beach at Destiny Bay, there was a stretch of sand, a secret place where lovers often went. A short boat or kayak ride, and stealthy turn around to the back of the island, and there you were. Privacy. As long as everyone else who knew the area well hadn’t arrived before you.
Each of them told her man that she wanted to rent kayaks and paddle to Tortuga that Sunday afternoon. There were enough kayak vendors so that they wouldn’t end up at the same place. Each Carrington brother smiled, thinking his woman had some adventurous loving in mind. Each man readily agreed.
Reid and Jennifer arrived first. As soon as they had pulled their kayaks up on the sand, Jennifer suggested they hike up to the little waterfall they’d often climbed to as kids.
“For old time’s sake,” she coaxed, giving him a quick kiss.
“Sure, why not?” Reid was game.
A few minutes after they left, Janet and Matt arrived.
“Oh look. Somebody’s already here,” Matt said, disappointed.
“Let’s leave the kayaks and climb around to the caves,” Janet suggested quickly. “I haven’t been to the caves for ages. My father used to take me there, looking for unusual plants.”
They had barely left the beach when Grant and Carrie splashed up. She was so nervous. She knew Grant was going to hate this. Just as long as he didn’t hate her, too! But it had to be done.
They pulled their kayaks up and Grant looked around, suddenly suspicious.
“What’s the deal here, Carrie?” he said. “Why am I getting a bad feeling about this?”
“Come on,” she said. “Don’t ruin this perfect day. Let’s have fun. Last one to the waterfall is a…a..”
“A tortuga?” Grant supplied with a grin. “You lose.”
And he was off with Carrie panting behind him.
They could hear the waterfall ahead, and then they came over the last ridge, and there were Reid and Jennifer, sitting on a rock and dangling their feet in the water. Reid looked surprised, but before he had a chance to say anything, Janet and Matt arrived from the other side. Reid jumped up. All three brothers looked at each other, then looked at their women.
“What the hell, Carrie?” Grant demanded. “Did you plan this?”
“We all did,” Jennifer said, getting up as well. “It was time. Call it fate. Call it destiny.”
“Call it a day,” Grant said, turning to go. “Nice try, ladies.”
“You wait a minute,” Jennifer cried, jumping to block his way. “You three are brothers. You’ve been at each other’s throats for years. I watched the fights from my bedroom window even when you were little boys. Maybe it’s just a fact that you three can never get along. Maybe you were born to fight. But you’re adults now. You can at least
go through the motions and be civil to each other.”
She poked Grant in the chest with her forefinger.
“We’re a family now. So this is not just about you anymore. It’s about all of us. It’s about the future of Destiny Bay. It’s about our future children. They deserve people around them who can at least smile and say hello once in awhile.”
She looked around at the three rebellious faces and sighed, shaking her head. “Look, we’re not asking you to be buddies with each other. But you can at least pretend to like each other for a short time once or twice a year. Because that is exactly what we’re expecting of you.”
She threw her husband a challenging look that clearly said, “You’re the oldest, Reid. Come on.”
He still looked rebellious, and he hesitated, but then he stepped forward. “Okay guys,” he said grumpily. “Let’s shake hands.”
“And apologize,” Jennifer insisted.
Reid winced. “Okay, here goes. I’m sorry for the crap I’ve given both of you over the years. We’re different people with our own minds about things. So—from now on, I’m going to try to be more tolerant of other points of view.”
The other two shuffled their feet and mumbled similar promises.
“Can we go home now?” Grant asked.
“No. We’re going to stay here and talk.”
All three women looked very stern. All three men looked aghast.
Then Janet waved a bag of doughnuts she’d pulled out of her back pack. “We’ve got snacks to tide us over,” she said. “And if no fights break out, you can go in one hour. But not until then.”
The men all looked at each other, and then Matt said ruefully, “It’s our fault, you know. We chose them.”
Reid began to laugh. In a moment, they all joined in and even attempted a clumsy and tentative group hug. Then they sat down on rocks and began to eat and to talk, and the women looked at each other and smiled.
“Beyond my wildest dreams,” Jennifer whispered to the other two a half hour later as they gathered together and a bit apart to watch their men actually have a conversation. Reaching out, she joined hands with the other two. “Thank God we’ve got each other.”
