Crash and Burn (15 page)

“Stone!” Grace gasped, grabbing on to his arms.

He didn’t release her. Instead he rocked her against him and side to side. “I now want to show you what I picked out. You don’t have to pick one of those rings, but it was fun to look for a ring for you. I have an engagement and a wedding band selected. I also picked a few I could wear, if you wanted me to.”

At a desk in the back of the store, the owner set a light and a black velvet board with three ring combinations twinkling on the top of the desk. Stone led her over, one arm securely around her waist, his hand on her hip.

He was in love, supposedly. He was buying her a ring. That alone should allow him some physical contact. She didn’t seem to mind and hadn’t brushed his hand away. She was her typical jumpy self.

They sat in the two seats provided and leaned over the desk. Stone kept his hands in his lap, letting Grace get a good unbiased look. He thought he’d chosen well. Grace was simple and elegant. She wouldn’t want a twelve-carat diamond with all the bells and whistles.

He’d chosen an emerald-cut three-carat diamond with two smaller diamonds on the side, paired with a simple gold wedding band, which he would have inscribed. The second choice was a large blue diamond with three white diamonds of descending sizes on each side. The final ring was a simple two-carat flawless diamond and a plain gold wedding band to match. The last one was his favorite. It was classic. Everyone expected he would buy his wife a showpiece ring. Something she could flash as a symbol of his wealth. That wasn’t what this ring was supposed to mean. A wedding ring, to him, was a symbol of his commitment to his wife. To Grace.

He sat back abruptly. He was buying a real wedding ring for his sister-in-law, whom he was falling in love with.

Oh shit.

He’d been so wrapped up in pleasing Grace, he’d forgotten to think about what this charade was becoming. She acted like his wife, she helped him, smiled at him and made him want to please her. The only thing he didn’t have was the marriage certificate with Grace Cromwell’s name on it.

“I like this one,” Grace said, pointing to the smallest diamond there. “These others are beautiful, but I’d be afraid to wear them. And this one fits perfectly.” She held up her left hand with the diamond winking on her ring finger. It looked like it belonged there. He felt a surge of pride.

Stone closed his eyes and smiled. She’d picked the one he knew she’d like. “Please wrap it up for us,” he said.

The store owner handed off the rings to one of the clerks and pulled out another black velvet board with three larger bands.

“These are for me, if you want me to wear one,” he said.

Grace grinned at him. “I need some way to tell those horny females to back off. I’ve seen how they act.” She looked at him and then back at the rings.

His three rings were simpler, one was white gold, one a thick gold band and the final was a thick gold band with a flat diamond in the center sunk flush with the band.

“Which one do you like? You have to wear it.”

“I know which one I like, but I want to know which one you would pick for me. Call it an experiment.”

She touched the diamond band and glanced at him.

Stone folded his arms across his chest. She wasn’t going to get him to tell her anything. He was ready to explode from the anticipation.

“The gold band,” she said, picking it up and handing it to the owner.

She didn’t even look back at him. He chuckled and nodded at the clerk. That was the one. He was not the diamond type. Fine for his wife, but not for him.

The owner handed Stone a small white bag with two black velvet boxes inside, each with a ribbon around it. “Excellent choices, Mr. and Mrs. Adams,” he said as he rang up the purchases.

Once in the car, Grace burst into chatter about the jewelry she’d tried. “When do I get my rings?” she asked suddenly.

“Patience, love. I’ll send a car for you tonight after trials. It will take you to a restaurant where we’ll have dinner and discuss the rings.”

He wasn’t sure when he’d decided to call her “love,” but she didn’t protest and he didn’t bring it up. Dinner was going to be special, he’d make sure. And he knew just the place to slip the ring on her finger.

Chapter 12

Giovanni’s wasn’t busy, even thought it was a Friday night. Stone ushered Grace into the cheery interior.

“Mr. and Mrs. Adams, I am so glad to see you,” Giovanni said, rushing out to greet them. “I’ll have your table ready in a moment,” he said, snapping his finger at a waiting server.

“It’s a special night, Giovanni,” Stone said. “We would like a bottle of champagne. Your best.”

“Stone?” Grace questioned. She didn’t need him going overboard on her behalf. “We don’t need champagne.”

He pulled her into his embrace as natural as if it was a regular occurrence. She flushed and her body burned where his hands touched her.

“I want to do this. Humor me.” He placed a kiss on her hair as they followed Giovanni to the back of the restaurant.

“Do you always sit here?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s special. Many deals have been made here.”

So much for feeling special. He’d made all his deals here, including the one he’d made with her.

As if he were reading her mind, he added, “You’re the only woman I’ve ever brought here. It’s special for that reason, too.”

She smiled up at him as he held out a chair for her. “You know when we’re alone, you don’t have to keep up the charade. I know why you’re doing this and it’s not necessary.”

She spread the napkin over her lap. It was time for honesty. She was falling for him and her play-acting had taken on a very real feel. There were no words to verbalize to him how infatuated she’d been with him since he’d started racing. All of the recent sweet talk and fancy wining and dining doomed her to an existence of telling stories about when she’d played house with her sister’s husband, a famous racecar driver, back in the day.

Giovanni brought the champagne, per Stone’s order. He poured the two glasses and left with a wink in Stone’s direction.

“What was the wink for?” she asked, suspicious. Men didn’t wink at other men without a reason.

“What wink?” Stone asked, grinning.

“Fine, don’t tell me, but I’m watching you. Change of subject. How was your qualifying race today?”

He nodded. “Not bad. I’ll be in a good position for tomorrow’s start. You are riding up with me, right? It’s about a three-hour drive, depending on traffic.”

“I’ll be ready. Should I wear anything special?”

“Jeans are fine. The other wives tend to go overboard, hoping they’ll be the one photographed this time.”

Most likely her stalker photographer, Bill, would be there. She gritted her teeth. He was a pain the rear end. She’d never met anyone so willing to be obnoxious in order to get a scoop. The most nerve-wracking thing was that if he dug deep enough, he’d uncover the story of the decade.

Her face drooped. She’d have to go over her wardrobe when she got home, looking for something appropriate for Divina. The sweater and tan slacks she’d worn today would have been the last clothes on Earth Divina would ever wear, even then, she’d consider going naked before donning them.

“You’ll be fine tomorrow. Don’t worry about the photographers,” he said.

“You keep doing that,” she said.

He shook his head.

“Reading my mind. First about bring me here being special and then now with the photographers.”

“We’re good together and I’m beginning to understand how your mind works.” He reached across the table, taking her hands in his. “Grace, do you remember when I told you the story about my parents?”

She felt the warmth of his hands seeping into her cool, clammy ones. She thought she felt his hands tremble. “Yes. They were engaged here.”

Then it finally made sense. The rings, the restaurant, champagne, Stone wanted it to seem like a real proposal.

“That’s right. And I promised myself, when I got engaged, I would propose to the woman here. She would understand the significance and see the romance in this place.” He pulled out the black velvet box from his jacket pocket. Opening the top, he held out the rings she’d chosen earlier in the day. They glinted in the candlelight.

She sucked in a breath. They were more breathtaking than she remembered. She felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Grace Cromwell, will you be my wife?”

She looked into his eyes. He was serious, not a trace of humor on his face. Either he was a tremendous actor, or... She couldn’t think about the
or
. She gave another glance around the restaurant to make sure they weren’t drawing attention before she nodded.

“Yes. Stone.” What she was agreeing to wasn’t as important as how it made her feel. Love exploded from her chest. The tears spilled over and her hands shook as he slipped the bands, both of them, onto the left ring finger.

He pulled her hands up to his lips and kissed them, then the rings. “You have excellent taste, Mrs. Adams.”

She held her hand out and admired the new addition. “I do, don’t I?” It was then she realized he’d proposed to Grace, not Divina, and he’d called her Mrs. Adams. She stared back at his beautiful face, ruggedly handsome, his dark hair cropped close to his head. Should she mention the slip?

She didn’t want to. Nothing should spoil this moment and bringing up Divina would be like throwing water on a fire. Selfishly, she grinned at her fake husband and wished she was not living a fairy tale.

* * * *

The car swung into the Pocono Raceway in Pennsylvania hours before any of the fans would be there. Stone had gently stroked her face until she opened her eyes at five in the morning.

“It’s time,” he’d whispered.

She dragged herself around to get ready to leave. Her rings never left her fingers, in bed or on the drive, where she spent most of the time watching the bright sun sparkle off the facets, leaving flecks of light dancing around the interior of Stone’s car. Now she was nervous about being here and her role.

“I hope Bill’s here so he can get a shot of my rings,” she said.

“Our rings,” Stone answered, flashing his gold band. “I put it on this morning. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It looks good on you. I’ve heard married men get hit on more than single guys.”

“Great.” He laughed. “That’s all I need.”

Grace lightly punched his arm.

“I have some meetings and some car checks to start with. You can hang out with the other wives or in the trailer. There’s a television in there, but I’m not sure we have anything other than races on DVD.”

“It’s fine, I brought a book and I’d like to walk around checking things out. If you don’t mind.”

“Sure. I have a pass for you in the trailer. I picked it up yesterday.”

“Stone?”

“Yeah.”

“What if I mess up and tell someone my name is Grace?”

He put his hand on her leg, searing a handprint on her thigh. “You’ll do fine. Don’t panic until something happens. Remember, ‘no comment’ works too.” He squeezed her leg before he opened his door and got out of the car. He stretched his arms up over his head, revealing a swatch of bare skin and dark curly hair that disappeared into his jeans.

Grace’s pulse hitched. She wanted to run her hand across his stomach, touching skin to skin. He probably wouldn’t appreciate it while he was getting ready to work, but a girl could dream. She sighed before getting out of the car to follow him.

She was accepted into the fold without question. Walt, whom she’d gotten to know over the last week, introduced her to everyone from the kid who took tickets at the gate to Barry, who was frantically running around getting last-minute details ironed out.

Grace stuck with Martha Halkins and her niece, who had joined her for the day. They broiled in the sun, reclining in lawn chairs, while everyone else seemed to have a job to do. Grace shifted uncomfortably in her chair. It was hot, and without sunscreen she would boil up redder than a lobster. Outside some imaginary line, there was a group of photographers and journalists speaking with Stone, Walt and George.

“It’s all part of the job,” she heard Stone saying.

George piped in, “Time to get the driver ready for his race. We’ll see you after, in the winner’s circle.”

The three men ducked inside the trailer and Grace stood to follow them. “I’m going to go use the bathroom,” she told Martha Halkins. “I’ll be back.”

She slid into the cool interior of the camper. She stood against the walls waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark and listened. Muffled voices came from a room nearby.

“If she doesn’t want to, then I’m not going to make her face the crowds.” It was Stone’s forceful voice.

“I think you should reconsider. It’s good publicity and they might stop following you around looking for information on her,” George Halkins said.

“It’s part of the gig of being married to Stone Adams.” She recognized Walt’s voice.

“I’ll speak to her, but I make no promises. Now get out so I can get changed.”