One in a Million

by Abby Gaines

  They were so famous, so rich…but so nice and normal. This whole crazy world was starting to feel more comfortable to Jen. Sure, everyone flew around on private planes, and champagne corks popped on the slightest provocation. But these people were passionate about NASCAR, hardworking, yet dedicated to their families.

  After lunch, Jen helped Patsy and Tanya with the dishes. Which turned out to be an excuse for them to ask her all kinds of personal questions while the men watched a season opener football game on TV.

  “So what’s the scoop with you and Eli?” Tanya asked. “I’ve never actually met one of his girlfriends before. It’s always been a case of blink and you miss ’em.”

  “Tanya!” Patsy laughed. “Not so loud.” She took a stack of dry plates from Jen and put them in a cupboard.

  “They can’t hear us,” Tanya said. She was right—the game was obviously reaching some kind of peak, because the guys were yelling encouragement at the TV set.

  “I’m not sure Eli would describe me as a girlfriend,” Jen said.

  “You’re much more than that,” Patsy suggested.

  “I—no—I don’t know.” Jen knew she was blushing. Behind her, the guys rose to their feet, urging some football player on.

  “Do you love him?” Tanya asked eagerly, her dish-drying forgotten.

  Was this how all celebrities talked? Sure, they’d gotten along well over lunch, but expecting a near stranger to bare her heart? “I don’t think—” Jen began.

  “You do!” Tanya crowed. “It’s written all over your face.” Groans came from behind them and the men subsided onto the couch in defeated silence, just as Tanya squealed, “You’re in love with Eli!”

  She clapped a hand over her mouth.

  Too late.

  There was only so far sound had to travel to reach every corner of a motor home, and Tanya’s words had gone the distance.

  The TV must have still been on, but all Jen heard was the horrified silence. All she saw was Eli’s back, rigidly turned against her. No way was he ready to hear she loved him—he was still fighting the idea of having a proper girlfriend.

  If Jen had been the kind of woman Eli liked to date, she’d have pulled out a witty, flirtatious remark and laughed the whole thing off. Then proceeded to show Eli such a good time in bed, he’d forget all about her inconvenient feelings for him.

  But she was ordinary Jen Ashby and this was the first time she’d been in love and she had no idea what to do.

  She turned on her heel and ran out of the motor home.

  AS HE CHECKED HIS HELMET and pulled on his gloves behind the wheel of the No. 502 car, Eli was certain this race would be a disaster. He’d lucked out at Bristol, running well despite his preoccupation. But back then—it seemed like months ago, not two short weeks—he’d been dealing with a slightly kooky fake girlfriend. Not a woman who was in love with him and who doubtless, being the kind of woman she was, wanted to dig deep into his psyche to find some pathetic guy desperate enough to tie himself down.

  He’d been furious when Jen ran off from the Grossos’, leaving him to explain that Tanya had it all wrong. They hadn’t believed him. He hadn’t believed it, either. This was why Jen had been withdrawn since he showed up at the farm with Kent. She’d decided she loved him.

  What the hell was he supposed to do about that?

  He’d phoned her hotel room to give her a chance to laugh it off, so they could get back to their flirting and kissing and arguing.

  “It’s not as if you and I are even dating, chickadee,” he’d teased her down the line, ignoring the dampness in her voice. “We barely know each other.” He also ignored the fact that he felt as if he knew her better than any woman he’d dated. “You gotta wonder if Tanya’s been sniffing Kent’s fuel cell.”

  There it was, the point where Jen could set his mind at rest. She just had to say Tanya Grosso was crazy, and he would accept it as gospel. They would never mention this again.

  In the long silence that ensued, he remembered how damn honest she was.

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Eli,” she said. “I love you.”

  He whipped the phone away from his ear and stared at it. She’d just ruined everything!

  She was saying something; he listened again.

  “—think you could love me back, you and I could have a real relationship, if you would just be brave enough to—”

  “I’m not afraid,” he cut in, his heart hammering like a piston. “What I’ve been trying to tell you, as long as I’ve known you, is that I like my life just fine. There’s nothing missing.” He paused. “Jen, I’m not going to love you back.”

  Having made that point, he’d been surprised—and disturbed—to see her in the hauler this morning. Thankfully she’d greeted him calmly, even if her reddened eyes hadn’t met his.

  Then he’d realized she was here because he was paying her, and the thought had unreasonably annoyed him.

  All day, she’d done her job—kept the female fans away from him—while barely exchanging any words with Eli. Since Gil wasn’t talking to him, either, it made for a quiet day. See, this was the problem with relationships. The more time you spent with someone, the more they started taking stuff personally and the harder it was to move on painlessly.

  I must phone Dixon Rogers tomorrow. The week had been so busy, with all that damn gift-buying for Jen, he hadn’t gotten around to calling the Fulcrum boss yet.

  “Gentlemen,” the Grand Marshal announced over the PA system, “start your engines.”

  Eli hit the No. 502’s starter button. The engine’s hungry, throaty roar surrounded him, reminding him nothing mattered more than this.

  He pulled out of his pit stall and ruthlessly banished Jen’s reddened eyes from his mind.

  JEN HAD THOUGHT SHE WOULD have no interest in the race after Eli dismissed her from his life with the exact same ease as he’d dismissed every other woman.

  She hadn’t expected him to react well to her confession that she loved him, but the finality in his voice when he’d declared he wasn’t going to love her back had sent a shaft of pain through her. It reduced her to tears, a luxury she seldom indulged in.

  Then she’d gotten mad, so mad she could barely speak to him. Okay, so he struggled with emotional commitment. But did he have to be such a coward?

  Jen sighed. Even if Tanya hadn’t been so indiscreet, Eli would have figured out eventually that she loved him. This was something they’d have had to go through sooner or later. His harsh reaction was a product of his fear. Maybe, when he got used to the idea, he’d realize being loved wasn’t so bad. Maybe he’d even want to give loving her a try. He just needed space to process his feelings.

  The No. 502 car came into focus on the TV set at the base of the pit box. As she watched, Eli passed Kent Grosso, then Ben Edmonds. He was driving rather well—her inexpert assessment was backed up by the comments from some of the pit crew.

  He continued to drive well, exploiting his advantageous starting position and staying at the front of the pack. At the end of the five-hundred-mile race, Eli was first over the line.

  His first NASCAR Sprint Cup Series win!

  An impromptu party sprang up right there in the pits. Gil, back from the Victory Lane media frenzy ahead of Eli, brought Jen a beer.

  “Thanks.” Recognizing a peace offering, she took it.

  He clinked his bottle against hers. “That was one hell of a drive. I want to thank you for the help you’ve been to Eli.”

  “I haven’t done anything,” she said.

  “That’s not true. Since he met you he’s been focusing on the right things.” Gil took a swig of his beer. “I expected to see you in Victory Lane. Did you two have a fight?”

  “Something like that,” Jen said.

  “Not too serious, I hope,” Gil said. “Eli has a much better chance of making the Chase after today, but he’ll still need to give next week’s race everything he’s got. He’ll need the same focus he had today, and then some.”<
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  The following Saturday was the race at Richmond, the final decider for the Chase contenders.

  A cheer rose from the team as Eli arrived in Victory Lane. Smiling widely, green eyes alight with triumph, he looked impossibly gorgeous. He accepted the accolades of his team, and dealt them right back again, acknowledging each individual’s contribution to today’s race with a graciousness that suggested he was a born winner.

  Jen stayed a good ten feet away from him, near enough that people wouldn’t suspect the rift between them, but not so close that he could snub her.

  A woman—dark-haired and gorgeous—approached him. Her midriff-baring black T-shirt bore the logo of First Rate Auto Loans, Will Branch’s sponsor.

  “Eli, you were incredible today,” she said breathlessly. She laid a hand on Eli’s arm, leaned in close enough for him to get a good eyeful of her curves. Jen tensed.

  “Thanks.” Eli pulled away, as he instinctively did when people got too close.

  The woman stayed in his space. “You don’t remember me, do you?” Her lips pouted sexily. “I’m Kylie. We met in Talladega in April.”

  The way she emphasized met, it was clear she and Eli had done more than just talk. Jealousy punched Jen in the stomach, then for good measure took a hold of her gut and twisted. She could scarcely breathe.

  Her only consolation was Eli’s hunted look. He glanced around, seeking escape, and met Jen’s eyes.

  She couldn’t help it: her love for him welled up, overflowed into a smile.

  Eli stiffened. Then he said to the dark-haired beauty, “Kylie, gorgeous, as if I could forget you.”

  It was all the encouragement Kylie needed. She threw her arms around him and kissed him. Eli’s gaze held Jen’s for a fraction of a second. Then he kissed Kylie back. Long and hard.

  A red haze of fury clouded Jen’s vision. She stomped over to Eli, as his team members scrambled to the far side of the pit stall, out of the way of looming embarrassment. “You coward,” she said.

  Eli let go of Kylie. Shame flashed across his face. Then he registered what she’d called him. He donned that superficial, charm-loaded smile and said, “Hey, chickadee, Kylie here was just congratulating me on my win.”

  Jen thumped the heel of her hand into his chest, taking him by surprise. He stumbled back a step. “You lily-livered jackass,” she said. “Are you seriously going to pass up the chance for a real, lasting love just because you’re scared to take a risk?”

  Awkward murmurs rose behind her. Kylie gave Jen a pitying look. Clearly she wasn’t the kind of woman who’d make the mistake of telling a guy like Eli she loved him.

  Eli’s face darkened. “I take risks every time I get in my race car. You’re the one who’s stuck in a rut because you’re afraid to live life to the fullest.”

  “You can’t live life to the fullest if you can’t love,” Jen retorted. “Falling in love with you was a king-size risk, but I took it. Now I want you to stop hiding behind women like Kylie—” the other woman hissed her displeasure “—and take a chance on loving me back. Come on, Eli, seize the day. Seize love.”

  She put everything she felt for him into her eyes as she beseeched him. And saw pure terror looking back.

  No, not pure terror. There was something else in those green eyes, something Jen chose to interpret as longing.

  Silence stretched between them.

  She’d said her piece; she wasn’t about to beg. She didn’t need a pledge of undying commitment from Eli. Just a commitment to try.

  Kylie wound her arm through Eli’s, pressed herself against him. “If you’re done here, we could go celebrate at my place,” she suggested.

  Eli glanced down at her, then back at Jen.

  The choice couldn’t be clearer, she thought. A roll in the hay with Kylie that he’d have forgotten by next week, or a relationship with Jen that would demand hard work, but which might make him happier than he knew he could be.

  Seize the day, Eli. Seize me.

  She saw the moment he made his decision, the moment the shutters came down, leaving his expression bland.

  “Sure,” he said to Kylie. “I’m done here.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “THIRTY MINUTES,” Kevin Horton called across the garage at Richmond.

  Eli acknowledged the reminder with the lift of a hand. Soon he’d be in the car and it would be down to him, and no one else, if he didn’t make the Chase. His chances were better now than they’d been a couple of weeks ago, but it was still by no means certain. Which was why he’d spent hours in the gym this week, putting himself through the grueling cardio workouts that would get him into great physical shape for tonight’s race.

  Too bad his mental shape was shot to bits.

  He’d turned Jen down last week, called an end to a relationship that would demand far more than he had to give. He’d expected to feel free, off the hook of her demands. But the moment Jen had walked away, he’d realized he had no interest in Kylie, no interest in any other woman. Jen had taken up residence in every nook and corner of his mind, and he couldn’t process a single damn thought without her intruding.

  Worse, the prospect of weeks, then months, then years without her stretched before him, an endless vista of, dammit, loneliness. He’d sent her away, but he felt as if she’d abandoned him.

  Which was crazy, given she was right here, standing outside the hauler, talking to Gil.

  Eli hadn’t invited her. When he arrived home from Atlanta he’d sent her a check for ten thousand dollars, along with a note to say he didn’t need her at Richmond. Gil wasn’t about to fire him after his first win, and the Rev Energy Drinks sponsorship was no longer in danger. Eli had confessed to Gil that he’d asked Jen to act as his girlfriend so he could keep his job and Gil had forgiven him.

  Gil was the one who’d decided Eli couldn’t focus on his racing without Jen around to keep women away. He’d asked her come to Richmond as a personal favor to him.

  His ex-girlfriend and his boss were best buddies these days. That profile of Double S Racing in the Observer had been glowing, and Gil credited Jen for much of the positive coverage. He was even talking of offering her a job at team headquarters.

  Eli’s stomach hollowed at the thought of seeing her every day and not being able to kiss her.

  I need to get out, start dating again. He didn’t want to. Couldn’t imagine being with anyone other than Jen.

  Maybe they could go back to where they’d been. Sort-of dating, but not really. So he could see her, argue with her, kiss her, but not have to actually commit to her.

  Even he could see she’d be stupid to settle for that. He’d made his choice, and he’d just have to get over her.

  Gil approached, Jen at his side. “Time to head over the wall, Eli,” he said.

  “Uh, right.” Eli could barely remember why he was here, he was so caught up in looking at Jen. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy—jeans, T-shirt, ball cap, as usual. But she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “Will you come with me?” he asked her.

  “Sure.” Her voice was neutral, as it had been all weekend, even when he’d told her he hadn’t gone to Kylie’s place, hadn’t done anything at all with her. Jen hadn’t seemed to care, and Eli had told himself that if she was falling out of love with him that was a good thing.

  Though it was night, it was bright as day in the pits. Eli’s success last week meant he had a lot more media attention on him. He knew the photographers wanted their shot of him kissing Jen before he climbed into the car, but he was too ashamed of the way he’d behaved to ask her to cooperate.

  Turned out he didn’t need to ask. Jen stepped up to him, as if he was still paying her to act as his girlfriend.

  Eli put his arms around her and it felt like the best thing he’d done all week. In her brown eyes, he saw a purity and a permanence that he’d never wanted before, but which suddenly he craved.

  No, I don’t. What if I fell for Jen and then changed my mind?
It would hurt her. What if she changed her mind and left?

  She’s already left. Because I acted like an idiot and drove her away.

  He froze, as pain shafted through him, down through layer upon layer of the carefree life he’d constructed, right into his soft, vulnerable core.

  It hurt so bad, he couldn’t breathe.

  “Eli?” Jen shifted in his arms. “Drive safely.” She went up on tiptoe, pressed her lips to his. She was out of his embrace before he could tell her what he’d just realized.

  He loved her.

  AFTER A LONG, HOT RACE, Eli swept over the finish line in third place. More than good enough to secure his position in the Chase.

  As if he gave a damn. He had to find Jen, right now.

  “You did it.” Gil punched his shoulder, then gave him a hug. “Congratulations, Eli.”

  “Where’s Jen?” Eli scanned the pits.

  “She’s around somewhere. How about we all go out for dinner?”

  Eli said something noncommittal as he vaulted the wall. He headed to the hauler. Jen wasn’t there.

  Back outside, he combed the crowd with his eyes. It was much darker here than in the pits.

  Dixon Rogers came up. “Eli, great drive.”

  “Thanks,” Eli said distractedly.

  “It’s time we talked turkey about you driving for us,” Dixon said. That did catch his attention. “Bring your crew chief with you, if you like,” Dixon continued.

  “Really?” Eli said. Having Kevin with him would make a big difference.

  Dixon smiled. “I think you’ll find our terms favorable.” He named a salary that made Eli’s head spin. “If you’re interested, my lawyers and yours can meet on Monday to start hammering out a deal.”

  It was the deal of his dreams, with the team of his dreams. Eli almost blurted out a yes then and there.

  Then he heard a soft but determined voice in his head. Jen. Talking about loyalty and commitment.

  But there’s no such thing as commitment in NASCAR, he argued with her in his mind.

  And realized he was wrong. The spirit of NASCAR was enduring, the sport had survived all kinds of setbacks to be still going, sixty-some years after that first race. That must have taken one hell of a lot of commitment by a whole bunch of people.