by Gina Wilkins
Remembering Marla’s comments about models and beauty queens, Stacy pushed her plate away, her appetite suddenly gone.
“WELL, I DON’T CARE what anyone says. If you want to see Jake Hinson, you ought to do so,” Mindy insisted stubbornly Thursday afternoon, as she and Stacy stuffed small toys and individually wrapped candies into tiny, colorful gift bags. They had volunteered to run a game booth at their church’s fall carnival, which would be held on Halloween, just under two weeks away. Because both of them liked to prepare early for that sort of thing, they’d agreed to meet this evening to start preparations and make sure they had everything they needed.
Taking her time about answering, Stacy tied a ribbon around a filled bag, leaving a loop at the top. Their booth would be a fishing pond. Children at the carnival would cast a fishing rod—or a wooden dowel with a string and a plastic hook—over the top of a sheet of plywood painted with a cheery lake scene. Stacy and Mindy would take turns hiding behind the plywood, attaching gift bags to the plastic hooks and then tugging lightly to let the young fishermen know they’d made a catch. The plywood stood nearby in Mindy’s living room, waiting to be painted, and they had several other things to do before the night of the carnival, but at least the prizes would be ready by the end of this evening.
Setting the bag in a large basket that already held quite a few, Stacy reached for another to fill. “That’s easier said than done,” she said finally. “Considering that we live in different states, and that Jake is usually on the road at one track or another, it’s hardly possible for us to date in a traditional sense.”
“He calls you, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.” He’d called every day since she’d left North Carolina. The calls lasted a long time, and they never seemed to run out of things to say. Jake told her all about his days—which, of course, were much more interesting than her own—but he also seemed genuinely interested in what she’d been doing since she’d returned home.
They talked about world news and philosophies, about their friends and coworkers, about childhood memories and future goals. And yet, Stacy was aware that she was still holding back in some ways, still protecting herself from being hurt by him, still resisting any suggestion that they were a couple and not just long-distance friends.
Jake was growing more frustrated with that hesitation. He told her he wanted to know that he would see her again. Soon. He told her how much he missed her. He told her he wanted to kiss her again—and he implied that he hoped for much more the next time they were together. And even though he was trying to be patient, she could tell he wanted a concrete answer to when she would join him again.
And it would have to be her joining him, she mused glumly. His schedule didn’t allow him to be the one to come to her. A life together would always revolve around Jake’s career. His moods would always be connected to how well he performed on the track and where he stood in the points. He would always have to be concerned about keeping his owner and his sponsors happy. Not to mention his fans.
“So when are you going to see him again?”
Stacy pulled a knot tighter than she had intended, then made herself go back and loosen the ribbon a bit. “I don’t know. He wants me to join him in Atlanta a week from Sunday.”
“Are you going?”
“I don’t know,” she repeated.
Tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear, Mindy turned to study her thoughtfully. “Let me put it this way, do you want to go?”
“I want to see him,” Stacy replied after a long pause. “I just don’t know if I can handle everything that goes along with him.”
Mindy smiled fondly at her. “I think you can handle anything you want badly enough. And as much as I hate the thought of you not living close to me all the time, I really want you to be happy. If gorgeous, successful, charming Jake Hinson makes you happy, then I think you should take the risk.”
Her brother was warning her away from Jake. Her best friend was practically pushing her into his arms. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about her future with Jake. Everyone except Stacy herself.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JAKE LOOKED at the telephone in his hand and scowled. It was early Friday evening, and the first free fifteen minutes he’d had that day. Qualifying had gone well; he had taken the pole for Sunday’s race, having run the fastest qualifying lap by less than one-hundredth of a second. His team had been elated, of course. Even Wade had whooped into the headset.
Jake was pleased, as well. Ecstatic, he assured himself. Finishing second in last week’s race, taking the pole for this one—he was leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was back in peak shape. Though his owner and sponsors had expressed no concerns to him, he knew they’d had their private questions. He hoped he had successfully addressed them all during his brief time back.
It would have felt even better if Stacy had been there to greet him with a smile of congratulation when he’d climbed out of his car.
He dialed her number, thinking of how unsatisfactory these calls were becoming. He wanted to see her. Touch her. Hold her. Though he would take what he could get, hearing her voice on the phone was little consolation.
Their last call hadn’t ended particularly well. He had tried to push her into giving him an answer about when they would see each other again, and she’d gotten defensive. He’d backed off before it had turned into their first quarrel, and they had disconnected the call civilly enough, but that didn’t mean he was giving up on them. Why couldn’t she admit that they had something very special between them, too valuable to let it fizzle for lack of persistence?
“Hello?”
He could tell from her tone that she already knew who was calling, probably thanks to caller ID. The slight reserve in her voice let him know she hadn’t forgotten last night’s call, either. “Hi. I got the pole.”
“That means you’ll start in first place for the race, right?”
“Right. And I’ll get to choose my pit stall. Not to mention that it’s considered quite an accomplishment to take the pole.”
“Congratulations.”
He could hear the smile in her voice, the one he’d fantasized about seeing. “Thanks. I wish you’d been here to celebrate with us.”
The smile faded when she replied, “I had a couple of meetings today that I couldn’t miss.”
“I know. You told me. I just wish you could have been here,” he repeated.
“I do have a job of my own, you know. I can’t be on call to be your personal cheerleader.”
He scowled again. “That isn’t fair, Stacy. I’ve never asked for that.”
He heard her sigh through the airwaves. “I’m sorry. I was out of line. I just…”
He wasn’t really angry with her, and he tried to make that clear with his gentle question. “You just what?”
“It’s getting to be too much. Apparently my name is all over the Internet. I’m getting calls from reporters again, this time wanting to know how I met you, and whether I’ll be seeing you again. Had I not just been in the news over the courthouse incident, it probably wouldn’t have been such a big deal that you and I were together last weekend, but now they have a new hook.”
Pushing a hand through his hair, he said, “I’m sorry. But you do get used to it, eventually. You learn how to give a brief, polite statement that reveals no more than you want, and then refer the callers to a spokesperson. As for the gossip that’s out of your control, you learn not to care, eventually. People can say what they want—you know what’s true.”
“Yes, well, that’s easy to say. Especially for someone who likes living in a fishbowl.”
“I didn’t say I like it. But it is part of the job I love and that I’ve dreamed about for most of my life.”
“I know. It isn’t part of my job.”
“I know that, too.” As understanding as he was trying to be, he was getting annoyed, and he was having a difficult time disguising it.
She sighed again. “I’m sorry, J
ake. I keep saying that, but it’s really true. I don’t mean to take my stress out on you.”
“I keep telling myself you wouldn’t be so conflicted if there wasn’t a part of you that wanted to give us a chance. I understand that you’re worried about the repercussions, but you wouldn’t even be considering it if you weren’t at all interested.”
“You know I’m interested,” she said in a low voice.
He probably shouldn’t press his advantage, considering her mood this evening, but he couldn’t resist asking, “You’re admitting that you have feelings for me?”
“I said I’m interested,” she answered with renewed asperity.
“You’re afraid,” he suggested. “Afraid of the attention, afraid of the uncertainty, afraid of being hurt.”
“Among other things,” she muttered. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, considering you’re never afraid of anything.”
That took him aback. “Who said I’m never afraid?”
“Well…you’re a race car driver. It takes a lot of confidence to be a success at that, both on the track and off. You even told me once that you’re never afraid because you trust the people around you.”
“I’m not afraid on the track, no. And the publicity doesn’t usually bother me. But that doesn’t mean I’m never scared. I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to drive again after my accident. I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like if I couldn’t race. Racing is more than what I do, Stacy. It’s who I am.”
“I know that.”
Which, he realized, was part of her problem. He could see how it would be daunting if she thought she had to compete with something that important to him.
“There’s something else that scares me,” he said.
“What is it?”
“Losing you without ever having a chance for us to see how good we could be together. Not just physically, though I think that could be dynamite. But in every other way.”
He heard her catch her breath as he spoke, and he knew he’d taken a big risk to speak so boldly. He knew she still thought it was too soon for such statements, but he was tired of waiting. He’d known she was the one for him from the beginning. Why should he wait an arbitrary amount of time until the proper moment to say so?
“Come to Atlanta, Stacy,” he said softly. “Let me show you that we can handle the obstacles.”
“I’ll…think about it.”
She had been saying that for almost a week. And he didn’t think he was making any headway at all in convincing her.
The call didn’t last much longer. It was the shortest time they’d ever talked when he’d called her. And as he set his phone on the table in the hauler office, he hoped it wasn’t a sign of things to come.
Someone tapped on the closed door. “Jake? It’s time to get ready for your shopping-channel spot. Time to push the licensed merchandise.”
He let out a breath and pushed himself to his feet. “Okay, Pam, I’ll be right there. Just give me a minute.”
He needed that time to put himself back into “Jake Hinson, NASCAR star” mode. It was getting harder to do so all the time after talking to Stacy, he realized with a ripple of nerves that might have surprised his associates.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IT WAS VERY LATE that evening when Jake’s cell phone rang. Tired to the bone, he was just about to turn in. He’d already turned out the light in his motor home bedroom. Yawning, he reached out to snap it back on as he dragged the phone to his ear. Probably Pam again, he thought without bothering to check the screen. He wouldn’t put it past her to have another addition to his already crazy schedule for the next day. “Yeah?”
“Jake, it’s Stacy.”
That brought his heavy eyelids completely open. “Stacy?” He looked at the clock, frowning when he saw the time. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m sorry, I just remembered the time difference. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I’m still up.” Mostly. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just been thinking about what you said earlier.”
He felt his stomach muscles tighten. He wasn’t sure what he would do if she was calling to tell him she had decided she wasn’t interested in pursuing anything further with him. If she’d come to the conclusion that whatever she felt for him wasn’t enough to offset the drawbacks of a relationship with a race car driver. Would he have enough grace to let her go without an argument? Enough pride to do so without begging?
“What have you been thinking?”
“I’d like to come to Atlanta.”
The breath he’d been holding escaped slowly through his nose. He smiled in relief. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But you don’t need to send the private jet. I’ll get there on my own.”
“I’ll make the arrangements,” he said firmly. “I’ll have someone contact you with the details.”
“All right. But, Jake, I still want to take our time with this, okay? I mean, there’s no need to rush into anything, is there?”
“Absolutely,” he promised. “I’ll let you set the pace, whatever makes you comfortable, as long as I can see you.”
“And let’s try again to keep it low-key. It will be harder, I know, especially because it will be my second race with you and this time Andrew won’t be there, but I’d rather not go too public as yet.”
“You’ve got it.”
“Okay. Then I’ll be there.”
“I’m glad.”
“Just one more favor?”
“Name it.”
“Try to win, okay? I want to see you do that burn-out thing you and Andrew were talking about.”
He laughed, amused by her sudden teasing tone. “I’ll give it my best shot.”
“Do that. Good night, Jake.”
“Good night, darlin’.”
“Um, okay.” She hung up abruptly, and Jake laughed again. The lazy endearment had obviously startled her. He would have to use them more often.
Suddenly in a very good mood indeed, he snapped off the light and fell back into the pillows. Tonight he would dream of Stacy—not that there was anything new about that.
STACY COOKED lunch after church on Sunday and invited Nick and Andrew to join her to eat and watch the race. Andrew was still in a pretty good mood overall, though he had his moments. Nick told Stacy that he hadn’t even complained too much about having to get up for church that morning, which was unusual in itself.
Her heart leaped when she saw Jake on the screen prior to the race. Reporters surrounded him as he walked to his car, his helmet beneath his arm, looking so handsome and proud. He joined his team for the prerace prayer and anthem, then climbed into his car for the event.
Andrew informed Stacy that this was the shortest track and that she could expect lots of bumping and banging. It was a good thing that Jake had qualified so well, he added, because passing was difficult there. And it would serve him well to stay in front as much as possible, since there was little room to avoid a crash if someone spun or hit the wall in front of him.
All of which only made her very nervous for Jake’s sake, though Andrew seemed to be looking forward to the melee.
There were many heart-stopping moments during the next few hours, most of them avoiding near misses by Jake as others wrecked around him. Disaster seemed to be inevitable when he was tapped from behind late in the race, sending him flying up the track toward the wall, but he made a miraculous last-minute save, emerging with only a few dents that seemed to have no effect on the car’s handling.
At least, that was what Andrew assured Stacy. She had retreated behind her hands when it had looked as though Jake would wreck, and she didn’t emerge again until she was sure he was safe.
Nick shook his head doubtfully. “If you’re going to watch him race very often, you’re going to have to get over this squeamishness. Trust me, he is going to wreck at some point. It’s highly unlikely that he’ll be injured, but it’ll likely look scary
to you.”
“I know,” she said on a deep breath. “That’s just one of the things I’m going to have to get used to. It’ll just take me some time.”
Nick nodded gravely. “No need to rush into anything,” he agreed.
Both Stacy and Andrew were on their feet by the time the race ended. After dominating the entire event, Jake crossed the finish line first, barely a nose ahead of his nearest competitor. It was another breathtaking, close finish—just the kind he claimed to like best—and both Stacy and Andrew cheered the win like excited kids.
Nick watched them hug and high-five, smiling indulgently but with a worried look in his eyes that Stacy noted but chose to ignore. Even Oscar was studying her odd behavior as if he wondered if she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had, but she was just so happy for Jake.
The camera panned to Jake’s team, celebrating jubilantly in the pit with fist bumps and shoulder thumps and silly dances.
“Look at Wade,” Andrew pointed out, laughing, so proud to claim acquaintance with the winning team. “Bet they aren’t calling him ‘Ice’ now.”
Stacy had to agree. Wade was grinning from ear to ear, high-fiving and hugging with the rest of them. They were all so happy to have Jake back behind the wheel, back in Victory Lane. Stacy felt her throat tighten at this evidence of how close Jake’s team were to each other. She couldn’t help wondering if there was room for one more among the tightly knit crew.
While Jake made his way to Victory Lane, reporters interviewed Wade and other drivers who’d finished in the top ten, including Ronnie, who had moved ahead in points with a strong finish of his own. The Chase was still close, but Ronnie had a good chance of claiming his first championship, the announcers agreed, making Stacy smile again. Ronnie and Katie must be thrilled, she thought, almost as proud as Andrew that she knew those interesting people.
Back in Victory Lane, a reporter waited for Jake to climb out of his car. Looking flushed and sweaty and satisfied, Jake boosted himself out of the tight opening, sliding a sponsor cap onto his mussed hair and reaching for the official soft drink of his team to take a long swallow. He made sure, of course, that the brand name was prominently displayed. Jake was nothing if not sponsor savvy, she thought with a shake of her head.
