Kane was well aware of how lucky he was to have had Harry as his crew chief for the last three years. He was grateful Harry didn’t resent him for the bad breakup with Lexie. Though he wasn’t positive about Harry’s feelings, since they’d never mentioned Lexie until she became car chief six months ago.
Given the building tension between him and Lexie for the past few months, and especially after their kiss last week, Kane had to fight the urge to squirm in Harry’s presence. His crew chief would not approve of his driver getting involved with another member of the team. As a father, he’d probably be even less supportive.
“You and Lexie need to remember you’re not the only members of this team.”
Staring into Harry’s direct gaze, Kane reminded himself Lexie had gotten her insight and quick mind from her father. “We do.”
“You’re both professionals, and I trust you to keep the team goals in mind.”
“I am. I can handle it.”
“Like you handled it before, when Lexie cried all the time and you stomped around like a wounded bear?”
She cried over me? was all Kane could think. He hadn’t seen a single tear the night she’d dumped him. She’d just been angry. And resolute.
Harry seemed to read his mind. “Just because she did what she had to do didn’t mean she didn’t hurt.”
He’d hurt, too. After she’d left for college, he’d raced harder, every chance he got. She probably thought his obsession with the track kept him too busy to grieve her loss. But he did that, too.
More deeply than even he would have thought.
“But that was a long time ago,” Harry continued. “You’ve both moved on.”
“Ah, yeah, sure.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed.
“We’re allowed to have a personal life.”
“Not with each other.” He sighed. “It was Bob Hollister’s idea to pull her away from R&D and put her on this team, not mine. I was worried how you two would work together again, but Lexie assured me you two were over and done.” When Kane firmed his lips, Harry’s tone hardened. “You’ve spent more than a decade trying to prove you belong in this sport. You’ve withstood the pointing and whispering, the doubt and the taunts. You’re gonna tell me now you’re willing to risk that for Lexie?”
Kane said nothing, though resentment simmered in his stomach.
“She won’t love you for it,” Harry continued. “If we don’t make the top ten, you’ll resent each other forever.”
“We’re going to make it.”
“You’re on the verge of showing your father he’s not the only champion in your family.”
Maybe, but no matter what he did he’d never measure up to him. He wanted this championship for himself and his team. Not his father.
He was through listening to Harry. But part of him acknowledged he was right. Harry echoed his own conscience.
But Kane couldn’t simply shove aside his attraction to Lexie. He was, however, frustrated and confused. After a long separation, they’d become friends again. They worked well together. They’d dated a mere three years, while being broken up for twelve.
They should have moved on. Until recently, he thought he had.
Now all he did was think about her and wonder what she was thinking in return. Memories of dates and conversations they’d had kept rolling through his mind. Regrets followed the memories. When would those thoughts spill over into their working relationship? Or, worse, affect the rest of the team?
He should suppress his feelings, but he wasn’t sure how long he could. It seemed all he ever did was deny, smother or compromise.
And he was getting damn tired of it.
Kane shoved open the truck’s door. “I’m done talking to you about this.” He rounded the truck, yanking his bag from the back.
Harry grabbed his arm as he started to walk off. “Promise me you’ll keep your distance.”
Kane pulled back. “I can’t.” He stalked away, then paced beside the plane, pausing every few seconds to glare into the distance. Where the hell was everybody? The obscenely hot August sun beat down on his head, and he was ready to get on with this trip.
A few minutes later the team started arriving. Each man patted him on the shoulder as he boarded the plane, everyone looking somehow tense and hopeful at the same time. When James showed up, he tried to get Kane to sit down, but he refused, knowing he needed to face Lexie alone before they faced everyone else together.
If Harry had sensed something was going on, and James had already witnessed their kiss, then it certainly wouldn’t be long before the rest of the team caught on. He wanted to warn her, to talk to her about the tension between them and see if that brilliant brain of hers could come up with a better solution than the ones he kept considering.
All of which involved inappropriate actions between driver and car chief.
What if they did give in to their attraction? Did he want to date her? Or was this a physical thing they could solve in one night?
Was it really possible to keep racing and their personal relationship separate? Brothers, fathers and son, uncles and nephews did it all the time in NASCAR, but then—
He stopped as he saw Lexie’s Blazer pull into the parking lot, followed by his father’s sleek, dark-gray Mercedes.
“Great.” Just what he needed to add to his day. The legend.
He was inappropriately attracted to his car chief. His crew chief—her father—looked as if he’d rather find his shotgun than make pit stop calls. He had to face forty-two other drivers on the track at Bristol in three days. He had only two races left to make the top ten in NASCAR NEXTEL Cup Championship points.
And his own father had probably come to tell him about some new promo tour he should go on.
“Hey, Dad, Lexie,” he said when they approached. His heart hammered as the coconut-scented lotion Lexie favored wafted toward him.
“I’m glad I caught you,” his father said. “I need a moment.”
Her overnight bag slung over her shoulder, Lexie avoided Kane’s gaze and edged toward the plane stairs.
“Sure, Dad. In a minute. I need to talk to Lexie.” He’d taken only a step toward her when his father grabbed his arm.
“She can wait.”
Already annoyed and on edge, Kane glared over his shoulder at his father.
“You have hours on the flight to talk to her,” his father continued impatiently.
As had become his custom, Kane swallowed his own needs and frustration and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He didn’t dare look over at Lexie—her stomping assent up the steps was enough indication of her mood. How many times had he put her aside for his father? For racing? For anything else that seemed important at the moment?
It was no wonder she’d wised up and dumped him.
“I’m getting a lot of questions about this top-ten business,” his father said, his strong hand still clamped on Kane’s shoulder.
Kane stared his father straight in the eye. There was always a measure of satisfaction in being able to meet him at equal height and breadth, especially after so many years of gazing up at him from a scrawny, weak body. “I’ll get there, sir.”
“You haven’t made it yet.”
“The team’s really come together this year. We’ve got the right people in place. All three of the Hollister Racing teams are doing great. Bobby’s in fifth and Richey’s in sixteenth. Plus, we’ve all had some good tests in the past few weeks.”
His father nodded. “I know you’re doing your best. I’m just going to get quizzed about it in the broadcast booth this weekend.”
You could show some faith in me. Shaking away the thought, Kane said, “We’re doing fine. Lexie thinks we could win on Saturday.”
“She seems sure of you.”
Maybe it was the conversation he’d just had with Harry, but he thought he detected a sharpness to his father’s voice. He certainly didn’t want his father to jump on the anti-Kane-and-Lexie bandwagon. Being a man who’d married
the sweet, manicured head cheerleader of his college team, he’d never understood Lexie’s under-the-hood racing perspective, and he’d never been supportive of their relationship.
“That’s her job,” he said.
“And you’re confident of her abilities?”
“More than anybody’s.” Even mine.
“I could help you find a new team anytime you wanted.”
“Yes, sir, I know.” The formal speech between them made him cringe, but they hadn’t established a close, casual friendship like many of his friends now had in adulthood with their fathers. By contrast, he still felt fifteen—awkward and completely lacking in confidence. “I’m happy with the team I have.”
His father slid his hands into his pants pockets and nodded. “Your mother wanted me to remind you to be careful. She tends to watch this race with her hands over her eyes, so be sure to call her right away if you’re in a wreck.”
“I will.”
“Well…” He patted Kane’s shoulder one last time. “Good luck, son. I’ll be in Dallas to prepare for Sunday, but I’ll get updates from my team.”
He’d get reports from his team. His father’s personal trainer, assistant and business manager all probably knew more about Kane’s racing career than the man himself did. He forced a smile. “I’ll be home on Sunday and actually get to watch the game this week.”
“I’d go with the Cowboys.” He turned away, then looked back. “If you ever get frustrated with racing, you know I can get you on with an NFL team. You’d be a great PR man, and they always need a sharp guy in sponsor relations.”
“Thanks, Dad, but no. I’m staying in racing.”
His father turned away again, heading toward his car. Kane watched him go, and a longing he hadn’t felt in a long time washed over him.
His father had played his early career for the Dallas Cowboys, but had eventually been traded to Green Bay, then St. Louis. His mother had been raised in the Charlotte area, so that’s where she and Kane had moved and stayed, while his father commuted during the season. Though the move to Mooresville was probably a move his father regretted in retrospect.
After his NFL retirement, his father had decided to focus on having his son follow in his footsteps. After that failed, he got a job as a broadcaster, where he was loved and adored just as much as he had been on the field.
Kane, meanwhile, fell short of expectations. He wasn’t a big star in NASCAR. He was just getting paid to do what he loved.
On the topic of his father, his emotions were at war. He’d admired his father all his life. Even when work and other people got more attention, he’d never stopped being proud. He resented the standard of excellence his father held him to, even as he kept trying to reach those goals.
With a sigh, he turned toward the plane. He had a race to get to. Maybe he’d never win his father’s respect, but he had Lexie’s and the team’s.
Harry was right. He wasn’t about to risk his career over an impulsive kiss and a few extra heartbeats when Lexie was around. That would be reckless, defiant and irresponsible. Traits he didn’t have. Not anymore.
He boarded the plane, stored his bag in the overhead compartment, then dropped into the empty seat next to Lexie. She cast him a sidelong glare, fastened her seat belt at the pilot’s direction, then stared out the window for takeoff.
What he wanted to talk to her about couldn’t really be said in proximity to the rest of the team, so he put in his earphones and launched a heavy-metal song on his iPod. The drums and pounding bass blocked any thought deeper than what he was in the mood to eat for dinner.
A sharp elbow in his ribs jerked him from images of a two-inch sirloin. “What?” he asked, throwing a hostile look at Lexie.
She yanked the cord of his earphones, and when he clicked off the music, she muttered, “Between race engines and all that rackety music, it’s a wonder you aren’t deaf.”
Since Lexie had zero taste in music—Barry Manilow being her favorite artist—Kane took that as a compliment. “Anytime you want to entertain me with something more stimulating I’m available.”
“Dream on.”
“I was trying to.”
She rolled her eyes. “What did your dad want?”
“The usual—good luck, call your mom if you wreck.”
“He didn’t say anything about me?”
“Not really.”
“Not really?”
“He wanted to make sure I was happy with you and the team.”
“And are you?”
“You know I am. You and Harry are the best on the circuit.”
“Maybe.”
“You have two Cup championships.”
She pressed her lips together. “My dad certainly does.”
“You know perfectly well you did more work on Mark Clayton’s championship than that idiot who was the car chief.”
“Then why is his name on the trophy?”
“You want a trophy?”
Her eyes lit with frustration. “It sure as hell wouldn’t hurt.”
“No, I guess not.” Harry’s former car chief got the glory, and Lexie got a pat on the back. Still, there had to be some satisfaction in knowing you were a vital part of a championship, that you’d given a longtime veteran a dream-worthy farewell season.
By contrast, if Kane’s career didn’t improve, he might be out of a job before longtime arrived.
“What did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
“The usual stuff—the car setup, the schedule.”
She shook her head. “You weren’t trying to brush off your dad for the usual stuff.”
Kane glanced across the aisle, where Pete and the jack man, Alex, were bent intently over a Game Boy. Their team was still a bit old school, as the two men traveled with him instead of flying in just for the race like the rest of the over-the-wall guys. But then, they both had other jobs—Pete helped James with PR on race weekends and Alex was the chief mechanic.
With those two occupied, Kane shifted his gaze back to Lexie. “How about another kiss?” he whispered.
Her eyes widened, then she darted a look over her shoulder as if checking for eavesdroppers. “You’re crazy.”
He trailed his fingers across her jean-clad thigh. “No doubt.”
She brushed his hand aside. “Move back.” Her voice, even in a whisper, was unusually high. “You’ve lost your mind. Somebody’s going to see.”
Didn’t he agree exposing their attraction to the team was an extremely bad idea? Hadn’t he just told himself he wasn’t risking his career?
Yes, but there was nothing wrong with talking.
He angled his body toward her, blocking them to anybody’s view. “I wanted to talk to you about Monday night.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing happened.”
“Why did you run away?” He shook his head. “Not your usual fierce self.”
“Can we do this later?”
“No. You’ll find a way to avoid me later.” He grinned. “I like that you can’t escape.”
Not looking at him, she gripped the armrests. “Why don’t you go talk to James?”
Kane turned around in his seat. His best friend sat near the rear of the airplane, reclining and snoozing. “He’s asleep,” he told Lexie.
“What about Pete?”
“Video game.” Inhaling, he leaned closer. “You smell fantastic. Kind of tropical. Do you still use that coconut lotion?”
She leaned down, putting her head between her knees.
“Are you sick?” he asked.
“No, I’m looking for my driver. Because you aren’t him.”
He patted her back, the warmth of her skin seeping into his palms, burning his fingers. “Sure I am, baby.”
She jerked up. “Baby?” Rubbing her temples, her gaze darted around. “Stop it, Kane. You’ve gone too far.”
“But I got your attention,” he said against her ear. The desire for her, which had been humming through his blood for mon
ths, reminded him how good things had once been between them. “So that kiss meant nothing to you?”
Her eyes fluttered closed. Her face flushed.
“Ah, so how often do you think about it?” he asked, happy that he wasn’t the only one with this particular problem.
“Once or twice.”
“Liar.”
She kept her gaze riveted on the back of the seat in front of her. “Wherever these feelings have come from, we’re going to shove them back in the box.”
“Can you do that, Lexie? Because I’m not sure I can.”
CHAPTER FOUR
HEAT FROM KANE’S BODY rolled through Lexie. The temptation he presented was becoming physically painful to resist. Personal relationships for her were few and far between—and certainly none as potent as the one she’d shared with the man beside her. She wondered if any other man would ever measure up.
Maybe not. But she was determined to at least try.
She’d never be first with Kane, and she wanted to be for the next man she handed her heart over to. She had to be. And even if dodging Kane was slightly humiliating to her sense of personal strength, she was willing to sacrifice. Her body was weak, and her libido was deprived.
Some part of her had to handle self-preservation.
“I want to see you later,” he whispered in her ear.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Just to talk. We need to figure out what we’re going to do.”
More talking? They were just talking now, and she was a wobbly mess.
“Come on, ba—”
“If you call me baby again, I’m going to clobber you with a carburetor.”
“You didn’t used to mind.”
“I was seventeen and stupid.”
He leaned back a bit. “There’s an insult somewhere in that for me.”
Since he’d given her some space, she could finally turn her head without fear of her face—her lips—touching him. She sent him her best haughty look. “You bet there is.”
“You can’t avoid me all night. We have a sponsor party to go to.”
Frowning, she wished she could figure out a way to get out of that. They’d been invited to a cocktail-hour/dinner party held in the sponsor’s luxury suite. She’d heard the owner offered lobster and caviar to his invited guests, so the party would no doubt be a major classy affair. “Oh, right.”
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