The Comeback

by Abby Gaines

  “So,” she gasped, “we’re alone, you must have a bed…”

  “No way,” Ryan said.

  She pulled back, met his rueful gaze. “No?”

  “If I make love to you now, you’ll figure out some way to turn it into me being a jerk who only ever wanted a roll in the hay.”

  “I won’t.” She thought about it, about the insecurities that might have been dealt a mortal blow today, but which weren’t dead yet. “I guess I might.”

  He squeezed her behind. “A risk I’m not prepared to take, sweetheart. We won’t make love until you’re certain this is forever. Which I suspect will probably require a walk down the aisle.”

  Her heart swelled and she wanted to laugh. Instead, she forced a scowl. “You’re so young,” she said cuttingly.

  He laughed for her. “You’re so mine.” He kissed her again.

  “If we don’t get to make love,” she grumbled, “I suppose I might as well go talk to my mom.”

  He kissed her again. “Shall I come with you?”

  How she loved him for offering! “Thanks, but there’ll probably be crying.”

  He shuddered. “I would come, you know.”

  “I know.” She kissed him, reveling in the tender emotion, the openness of his feelings for her. “But I need to do this on my own. Then I’ll be all yours.”

  GABY COULD BARELY KEEP her eyes open, despite the noise and the stimulation of being in the pits at Richmond on race day. She’d spent Friday afternoon, most of Friday night, then all day today crunching the numbers on Zack’s sponsorship. On every measure, she’d proven that Getaway Resorts got its money’s worth—more than its money’s worth—from Zack.

  Was it enough to convince Getaway they hadn’t suffered from Zack’s ducking out of the bachelor events? Enough to keep Zack’s sponsorship intact so he could finish the season that was so important to him? And maybe, just maybe, keep her own job?

  Gaby blinked against a haze of exhaustion as she passed Trent’s pits. Trent had qualified fifth. She could see Zack’s pits, and the electric blue war wagon, up ahead.

  Uh-oh, there was Sandra. Gaby slowed, despite the fact she was looking for her boss. She hadn’t talked to Sandra since that meeting yesterday morning. She’d ignored Sandra’s calls. Gaby didn’t know of anyone who’d done that and lived to tell the tale. She swallowed, wiped her hands against her caramel-colored pants, then clutched her satchel closer.

  Two Getaway guys stood next to Sandra, increasing Gaby’s trepidation. And next to them, Chad. Who knew how he felt about her at the moment?

  One way to find out. Gaby found pinning on a smile wasn’t as difficult as she’d thought it would be. She’d done the right thing, and she had good news. They just had to listen.

  Chad saw her first, and a big smile broke out, the kind he normally only wore for Brianna. “Gaby, we were just talking about you.”

  “Hi, Gaby.” Sandra sounded thoughtful rather than vengeful.

  “I’m glad I found you all here.” Sandra didn’t look as if she was about to fire her, but that could be her “company” face. For Zack’s sake, Gaby needed to make her point fast. She flipped open her satchel and pulled out her presentation folder. “I’ve been looking into the return on investment Getaway gets from the money it spends on Zack,” she began. “You need to see this.”

  Over the next ten minutes, awkwardly juggling the folder as she flipped pages and pointed at vital facts, she explained the weighting she’d given to different media impressions, the equation she’d used to attach a value to those impressions, the calculations she’d made. She employed every persuasive power at her disposal, fielded questions with aplomb. All the time, she was aware of Sandra’s silence, and Rob Hudson’s poker face.

  At last, she concluded, “Whatever Zack does out on the track—win, lose or crash—you get a return that would be the envy of many marketers. When he wins, you maximize that investment fivefold. Letting Zack focus on his racing at the expense of the bachelor contest costs you nothing, and potentially increases your return to astronomic levels—even if he doesn’t make the Chase.”

  She stopped, and the cumulative effect of sleep deprivation and emotional stress caught up with her. She almost swayed, locked her knees to stay upright. Then she realized Sandra was clapping.

  “Excllent work, Gaby,” her boss said warmly. “I’ve never seen such a thorough analysis—and I thought I was a numbers freak.” Everyone else laughed; the best Gaby could muster was a dazed smile.

  “Very interesting,” Rob Hudson admitted. “I’m not going to rush into agreeing with you, but you’ve certainly given us a lot to think about.”

  It wasn’t a wholesale endorsement, but it was progress.

  “Come on, Rob,” Sandra said with the brusque assertiveness her clients loved. “This stuff is pure gold.”

  He laughed. “I’m considering it, Sandra.”

  “I should think so,” Sandra scolded. “Gaby’s work is phenomenal.”

  Gaby felt strangely light-headed, to the point where she didn’t care either way what they thought of her work. She’d done her best for Zack. The rest was up to him.

  “Where is he?” she asked Chad.

  He knew who she meant. “Over the wall—they’re just about to start the national anthem.” Gaby became aware of a brass band playing in the background. Chad put an arm around her shoulder, a very un-Chad-like gesture. “I was just telling Sandra how Zack’s had a busy couple of days with the bachelor contest events.”

  Gaby froze. “What?”

  Chad chuckled. “Zack went to the bachelor party last night, then had an interview with Olivia Winton this morning.”

  “But I canceled—”

  “And I reinstated the interview, at Zack’s request.”

  Gaby’s mind raced. Why had Zack gone to the contest events, when he’d been so adamant he wouldn’t?

  There was only one possible explanation. He’d done it for her. Because it was important to her. Of course, by then she’d already been acting on the conclusion she’d reached with Trent and Kelly, that she was sick of her boss manipulating her, but he wouldn’t have known that.

  Zack cared about her, more than she’d dreamed.

  She wanted to leap over the pit wall and stick her head in the window of the No. 548 car, tell Zack she loved him. But even as she took a step in that direction, the grand marshal announced, “Gentlemen, start your engines.”

  Later, she told herself as the cars circled the track, getting ready to race. She just had to hope that the outcome of the race—she had awful visions of Zack crashing early and destroying his hopes of making the Chase—wouldn’t change the way he felt.

  Across the track, the green flag fell, and the air filled with the roar of forty-three cars, every single one of them hungry for victory. Time to pray.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  FROM ABOUT LAP TEN, Zack struggled to keep his focus. The start of the evening race had, as always, demanded full concentration, but now that he’d passed Kent Grosso—good—and been passed by Danny Cruise—bad—and settled into a groove that kept him in the same twelfth place he’d qualified in, his mind began to wander.

  To Gaby, of course. He wished he’d seen her before the race. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he’d been able to kiss her, to convey how he felt, it would have been better for his racing. Too late now, he couldn’t let that kind of superstition affect him. He had to finish in the top ten to secure his place in the Chase regardless of what any other driver did. If a couple of the drivers already in the top twelve crashed out, he might be able to get away with a slightly lower finish.

  Putting Gaby out of his mind only opened it to thoughts of his family. Zack had asked Chad to fix up the Olivia Winton interview, and to come to the bachelor party with him. His brother had joined him, no questions asked, providing welcome moral support among the sea of women. Olivia Winton had been there, filming a presegment for this morning’s show, and some of the things Chad had said to
her about Zack, which Olivia had relayed to him during his interview this morning…. Chad wasn’t prone to exaggeration, so Zack knew he must have meant them. His brother’s words were so flattering that Zack was pretty sure he’d blushed on national television.

  Zack grinned at the memory. Maybe one day he’d have Chad on about that. For now, he was enjoying the glow of having a big brother who rated him so highly.

  Zack saw Trent’s No. 429 car up ahead. His stomach knotted, destroying the momentary peace of mind. The tension gave him a burst of speed and he passed Will Branch. If he could do that a few more times, he might have a shot of making the Chase. He thought some more about Trent, since that seemed to be what had given him the impetus to make the pass.

  Trent and his confession about that ill-fated race. When Zack thought about the animosity he’d felt over the past few years—the loneliness—he wanted to punch his brother. Almost without noticing, he passed Justin Murphy. Murphy held up two fingers, the wrong way to mean peace. Zack grinned and held on to his hostility through yet another pass. He was in the lead pack now, somewhere in the top ten, he figured.

  It was a good place to be, and Zack held on to it through several pit stops. He wondered if Gaby was out there in the shadows, watching his progress around the track, which was lit up brighter than day. Or if she’d given up on him.

  Then it was the final pit stop. Zack needed all four tires changed and a decent amount of gas put in his car, which meant he was in the pits a couple of seconds longer than some of his rivals. Two seconds could make all the difference. He fought to retain his self-control as he headed back out along pit road. If he did something stupid now, he’d earn a penalty and totally blow it.

  He made it back onto the track without mishap, and was pretty sure he heard a sigh of relief over his headphones.

  He passed Trey Sanford, which put him right behind Trent. “Gap,” his spotter said a lap later. His chance to pass his brother. On the backstretch, he moved up alongside Trent. Neck and neck. Zack looked straight ahead.

  “Trouble low,” Zack’s spotter said, with sudden urgency in his voice. Zack could see it now, smoke and a cloud of dust—Danny Cruise’s car sat on the infield. Danny had already qualified for the Chase, so Zack didn’t waste time feeling sorry for him. On the track, near the pole line, there was still a tangle of two or three cars, at least one of them a lapped car. Zack held his line, even though it meant getting dangerously close to the melee.

  “Zack,” Chad cautioned through the headphones. Huh, Chad was still with him? Zack had assumed he’d be on Trent’s channel right now.

  Dammit, Zack couldn’t sit alongside Trent any longer. He had to get ahead. Once they were no longer under caution, Zack quickly looked for a gap and he saw one coming into Turn Three, even before his spotter pointed it out. They were coming up to a lapped car—they’d have to go three-wide for a second or two, but that wasn’t a problem at Richmond. As he got closer, he realized he’d overestimated the size of the gap. There probably wasn’t a driver on the track who could make it through there without tangling with the lapped rookie. Or without pushing Trent into the wall.

  Zack’s heart beat faster. It wouldn’t actually be pushing Trent into the wall. More a little nudge that would leave his brother nowhere to go. Zack would simply be doing what he had to in order to get ahead. Easier, safer than messing with the rookie. With the unexpected bonus of payback against his brother.

  Do it, he told himself. He glanced across at Trent. There had to be a couple of feet of space between them, but right now, it felt like nothing. Trent looked back at him, and Zack imagined he could see behind his brother’s visor. See resignation in Trent’s eyes, and acceptance that this was his due.

  Sorry, kid.

  How long was it since Zack had thought of Trent as his kid brother? These days, it was always Trent up ahead.

  Zack thought about the imminent smash, what it would do to the family. No matter that Trent deserved it, they’d be back where they were at the start of this season. Bitterest rivals, rather than brothers. Who knew how long it would take to recover this time?

  But, dammit, Zack needed to make the Chase, even more than Trent did.

  Back off, he told Trent telepathically. Let me pass and I won’t have to put you into the wall.

  Because if he hit Trent, no matter if Zack won this race, made the Chase, won the whole series, he’d have lost the battle he’d been fighting since January. The battle for his family, for a true team.

  He couldn’t do it; the certainty settled in, wouldn’t be shaken. Trent hadn’t eased off at the prospect of hitting the wall—he would always give it everything, no matter what the risk. Damn. Zack had to make a clean pass.

  Anyone watching the race would say it was impossible for Zack to make the pass before they reached the corner where Trent would be pushed into the wall.

  Zack dug within himself, mined every reserve of strength, of speed, of strategy, of adrenaline. Hit the floor with the gas pedal. Slowly, he pulled ahead of Trent. The gap was minuscule now, the corner almost upon them. Impossible. Still, Zack kept going.

  He squeaked through by the narrowest of margins, practically brushing panels with Trent. But not actually touching him. Nor did he touch the rookie.

  Zack whooped as he surged ahead, and got an answering whoop in his ear from Chad. The crowd surged to its feet, cheering. For me. Zack found himself grinning like an idiot. Three more laps to go, a couple of easy passes, then he blistered past the checkered flag behind Bart Branch and someone else.

  “Third,” Chad yelled into the headset. “You did it, bro, you made the Chase. You’re the man.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Zack fought the speed wobble as the car slowed down. He laughed out loud.

  He was in the Chase. But he wasn’t done yet.

  GABY HAD SCREAMED SO much during the race, she was just about hoarse. She raced to the pit wall, past Julie-Anne and Amber, who were hugging each other and crying, and past Ryan Thorne, who was doing a good job of crashing their embrace. Past Chad and Brianna, who were celebrating Zack’s result with a kiss that positively smoked. Past Brady, beaming from ear to ear as he divided his attention between his family here in the pits, and his sons out on the track.

  “Gaby, wait up,” Sandra called.

  Gaby ignored her. Her knees pressed against the wall as she scanned the pit road for Zack’s car. She’d been so scared for him—for them—when she’d realized he intended to attempt that pass….

  Here he came now.

  “I’ve…been thinking,” Sandra wheezed next to her, breathless from her brisk waddle. “About the promotion.”

  “Uh-huh.” Gaby strained to see Zack’s face. She thought she caught a glimpse of his grin. She couldn’t wait to kiss him. She caught the occasional word from Sandra—exceptional performance…difficult driver…someone I can trust…capable hands—but she wasn’t really listening.

  Zack clambered out the window of the No. 548 car and pulled off his helmet. His smile was filled with elation…and when he saw Gaby, he positively glowed. Gaby caught her breath.

  “Have you heard a word I said?” Sandra sounded half-annoyed, half-amused.

  “Uh, no, sorry, Sandra.” Gaby didn’t take her eyes off Zack.

  Sandra pffed. “Ah, well, there’s always later. But don’t leave it too long—I seem to have swelled up like a balloon today. I think my doctor’s going to have me on bedrest any day now.”

  That did distract Gaby. She looked at her boss in alarm. “Are you all right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Now she’s interested. Get back to your sweetheart, Gaby.” When Gaby gaped, Sandra said, “Yes, I know how you feel about Zack, it’s been obvious for weeks. I thought I’d give you a chance to prove you could handle it…and you did great.” She put a finger under Gaby’s chin and gently closed her mouth. “I’ll call you from home tomorrow. If Gideon will let me.”

  “Gaby,” Zack said.

  Gaby turned around, just in t
ime for Zack to haul her into his arms for a crushing hug. He smelled of sweat and oil. He smelled like her dreams.

  She wrapped her arms around him. He lowered his mouth to hers. But before he could kiss her, he said, “I’m a jerk.”

  “I know,” she said happily.

  One strong hand cupped her behind. “I love you.”

  “I know,” she said on a dreamy sigh. Had there ever been a moment better than this?

  He laughed. “I’m sorry I was so selfish—and if you say you know—”

  “Kiss me,” she said. “I love you, too.”

  Now he did kiss her, with a fire and an energy that shouldn’t have been possible after the grueling race he’d just endured. But Zack was good at the impossible.

  “From now on, we’re a team,” he said. “We’ll make it work so that we both get what we want.”

  “I want you,” she said.

  He grinned. “And I want you. More than anything. So maybe this doesn’t have to be too hard.”

  He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, infinitely gentle. “I’m so proud of you.”

  She blinked. “You just stole my line.”

  “Uh-uh.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love the way you fight for what’s right. You’re the best PR rep NASCAR has ever seen. I’d better marry you before some other driver figures that out.”

  Her heart swelled. “You’re the best man I know.”

  “And the best damned Matheson,” Trent said. He’d finished seventh, also making the Chase, and had rushed straight to see his brother. “You did a good thing,” he told Zack. “A big thing.”

  “Yeah, well, it won’t happen again.” Zack relinquished Gaby just long enough to give his brother an awkward hug, then he pulled her back into his arms.

  “Where was I?” he asked.

  “Proposing?” she suggested hopefully.

  “Wow, you really do know everything.” He kissed her.

  A shriek came from Sandra, drawing everyone’s attention. Taney, who was crossing the pits, sprinted the last few steps to his wife. “Sweetheart? Is it the baby?”