Crash and Burn (16 page)

Grace acted like she’d been looking for the bathroom when Walt and George came out a door at the end of the hall.

“Hello, Divina,” George said. “Glad you could make today’s race.”

“Thank you. I’m glad I could be here. Martha’s making me feel welcome and accepted.”

“Divina, you understand you’re here to support Stone, right? That’s why he wanted you here,” Walt said, trying to convey something by boring into her eyes with his.

“Yes, Walt. Haven’t I been supporting him all week?” She wasn’t going to let these men think they could boss her around. She was here for Stone because she wanted to be. They weren’t going to suggest she was only a media ploy. Walt knew the truth, but George was still blissfully unaware. To him, she was a flirty, opportunistic gold digger who was weak when it came to public appearances. His memory was short, considering she thought she’d impressed him at the first photo shoot.

Walt patted her back as they passed and went out into the bright day. Grace mocked them silently with her face scrunched up and rocking her head from side to side.

She opened a door and found a small office with papers thrown on the desk. There wasn’t room for anything other than the desk and two chairs. She shut the door and moved on. The next door on the left was the bathroom. There was a toilet, sink and stand up shower and plenty of space for whatever else Stone needed done in there, like host a party for twenty of his closest friends. She shut that door too. Stone was in the final room, humming to himself.

Lightly tapping on the door with one knuckle, she anxiously waited for the humming to stop.

“Come in,” he said.

Grace pushed the door in and froze. Stone was standing in the middle of the room in his tighty-whities, his back to her. Her heart thudded loudly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, blushing and backing out of the room.

He looked over his shoulder. “Hi, love. Need something?”

He asked as naturally as if they’d been dressing and undressing around one another for years. She stepped back into the room, which must have been his bedroom because, besides a closet and a dresser, there was also a king-sized bed. He bent over to slip on his pants and her body stuttered into an entirely different reaction and one she never wanted to get used to. No one else she’d ever dated made her quivery with a look or needy by bending over. She cocked her head to look at his butt. Even sex wasn’t as thrilling as the riot of sensations darting around her body.

“I...you...well...bathroom...”

“You were looking for the bathroom?”

“Found it.” She coughed once, clearing her throat. “I wanted to tell you to kick some tail out there.”

He pulled up the bottom of his light blue racing suit and turned toward her. She could still see his underwear between the vee shape created by the fly of his pants and she wanted him to take the pants off again. Looking higher, trying to find his eyes, she got hung up on his naked torso. His chest was tan, sculpted and begged to be touched. She took an involuntary step forward.

“Kiss for luck?” he asked.

Her stomach pitched. Physical displays of affection were taboo since she’d set the no PDA rule.

“Stone. You’re such a jokester,” she responded getting her emotions under control. “I’ll see you after the race.” She backed out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Did Divina know what she was missing? Had she seen Stone naked? The thought halted her rampant emotions. No, they hadn’t consummated their marriage because Divina was pushing for an annulment. Their marriage wasn’t about love or business, and now that the role of Divina was played by Grace, not even about mutual respect. Divina’s attitude became belligerent whenever she saw Stone, as the proposed wedding date for Divina Cromwell and Hank Fairfield drew near. Living at the house was becoming unbearable.

Martha opened the door from outside. “Grace, you in there?”

“Coming,” she said, cheerily.

“Hurry, they’re lining up.”

Chapter 13

Grace loved the racecar circuit, although she’d never been to an actual race. The noise and grit added a whole new dimension to the excitement of the cars shifting and jockeying for position.

“Go, Stone,” she yelled, caught up in the urgency of the race, smiling and fist-pumping the air. Stone was doing well in the lead pack. He shifted between second and third most of the day.

When cars started to pit, she got even more excited. She saw the drivers as they passed at the required thirty-five miles per hour speed limit. “When will Stone pit? He hasn’t been in for a while and he must be running on fumes,” she said to Martha.

“Have you followed racing?” Martha asked.

Grace tore her gaze from the track and stared wide-eyed at Martha. She wasn’t sure what to say. Divina didn’t follow racing, but Grace had followed it for years. “Some. Only on TV though. I miss the announcers telling me what’s going on.”

“We have a radio in the trailer, if you’d like. Or some of the wives have personal radios so they can hear what’s being said between their driver and the crew.”

“I think I’d rather watch and listen to the announcers over the radio. I don’t want to hear Stone, especially if there were an issue. It would freak me out,” she said automatically.

Martha patted her hand. “You’ll be fine dear.” She smiled and glanced back at the track. “Oh look, here comes our car.”

Grace stood up, trying to contain herself so she wouldn’t bounce out of her sneakers. Light blue crew surrounded the car as Stone pulled to a stop. Someone shoved a drink with a straw in his mouth while another man put gas in the car. All four tires were changed and someone peeled off one of the windshield stickers. Stone turned as much as he could, strapped in like he was, and smiled at her. She gave him two thumbs up and a mega-watt smile.

Do it
, she mouthed.

The whole pit stop took fifteen seconds, and he was gone, back on the track, speeding at one hundred eighty miles per hour with what seemed like not a care in the world.

Stone must have taken what she’d said to heart because he stayed in second place, having gained his spot back after his great pit. When the last lap was signaled, only two and a half miles remained of the race, and Grace yelled louder, though the only ones who heard her over the roar of the engines were the crew and Martha.

Go, go, go
, she chanted in her head.

Stone drove his car expertly around turn two, bringing him alongside the leader.

“Go, go, go.”

Barry was signaling with his hands, speaking into his headset. Grace’s pulse throbbed in her chest, the race was so thrilling. Her hair felt like it was standing on end, and the electricity in their area was contagious. On the final angle of the tri-oval, Stone took the inside and sped past the leader. He accelerated and the crowd went wild. The car flew down the final straightaway in front of the grandstands. The other car stayed on his tail, swerving in and out, trying for an opening, but Stone didn’t leave one. He took the checkered flag and made his victory lap. He spun into the infield and did a few donuts, his hand out his window making a number-one sign.

Grace hugged Martha and her niece, the three of them jumping up and down.

“That was amazing!” Grace cried.

“His first win,” Martha said. “There’s nothing like it.”

Stone pulled his car into the winner’s circle. With help from his team, they removed the netting and Stone slid out the window of his car. Men were clapping him on the back and shaking his hand.

Once he’d accepted his congratulations, he started searching the crowd. Grace felt the butterflies in her stomach kick into high gear. She knew he was looking for her, seeking her out in a crowd of fans. Her face grew hot and she waved to him, catching his gaze.

He thrust his hand into the air as a greeting, then motioned for her to come over and join him. Thrilled to be singled out, she hustled over and threw her arms around him. The high and excitement from the race made her reckless and confident.

“You were amazing!” she yelled over the screaming fans.

“Thanks. Welcome to my first victory party.” His grin shone from ear to ear, his perfect white teeth gleaming in the flash of cameras. “Pose with me,” he said, his arm firmly around her shoulders. He turned them to the crowd of photographers.

“Stone, over here,” they yelled.

“Look this way,” another reporter demanded.

“Mrs. Adams, love your ring,” Grace heard one man say.

She turned in his direction and scanned the group. Sure enough, Bill was standing pressed up to the rope line. Grace smiled at him and flashed her bling.

“I’m glad you got it back in the right size.”

“Thanks, Bill,” she said. “Glad you were able to make the race.”

“How about a kiss for the fans?” Bill called.

Grace shook her head slightly.

“Yeah, we want a kiss for the victor!” someone else yelled.

Stone heard the comment and smiled down at her. He was only about six inches taller than her five-foot-nine frame. With her eyes, she pleaded, but for what she wasn’t sure. Did she want him to kiss her?

Oh yeah.

Did she want him to kiss her in front of the nation? She wasn’t too sure. Smiling timidly, she waited for him to make the move.

A chorus of “kiss her” boomed around them. Her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest and she thought she’d forgotten how to breathe.

He leaned toward her slowly, like a movie running in slow motion. She closed her eyes and flashbulbs caused spots of light behind her eyelids. The softness of his mouth was the first thing that registered in her foggy brain. His lips only grazed hers in a chaste kiss, but without warning passion exploded in her brain and they were no longer kissing for the cameras.

It was a full out communication of lust without words. With his lips, he separated hers and touched her tongue with his. He tasted sweet, like what he’d drunk at the pit stop had been cherry flavored, and she sucked the nectar into her mouth, savoring the flavor of him. She felt her nipples bead and tingling sensations produced tiny fireworks between her legs. Needing to get closer, she wrapped her arms around his neck and twined her hands in his soft hair. She slanted her lips to gain better access to him, and slid her tongue across his mouth, dipping it in to taste him.

“Excuse me,” Walt said professionally. “It’s time for Stone to accept his trophy and check.”

* * * *

Stone pulled back first, watching Grace’s face for any indication of regret. His only regret was the ceremony and more interviews keeping him from getting her alone. For once he didn’t care about the race, the fans or the sponsors, he only had eyes for Grace. And at this moment, he had something else for Grace, but he ran over tire pressures in his head to take care of that problem.

There was no sign that she was unhappy with him–mostly she wore a dazed look with glazed eyes.

“Later,” he whispered only for her ears. Then he announced, “Let’s get this going.”

“Yeah, looks like he has plans for later,” Bill yelled with an obnoxious laugh.

“You,” Stone said sharply, pointing at Bill. “Out! Your interview is over. You’ve been nothing but disrespectful and rude. Out!”

Walt put a hand on his arm, trying to placate him, but it only succeeded in irritating him. Stone wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone who wasn’t married to him.

“I’m fine,” he said to Walt.

“Good. Smile for the cameras you haven’t scared off. Your outburst is bound to make the papers.”

“I know, but he’s been giving Grace a hard time over the last week.”

“She’s a big girl. She can handle it. You need to watch your step and keep a squeaky clean image. Divina can take care of herself.”

Stone looked up at Walt and then over to his wife. Had he just called her Grace in front of a hundred reporters with cameras, recording devices and God knows how many others?

“You’re right.” He tried to recover his stomach from his toes. “Divina is great with the media because of your training.”

They presented Stone with the huge trophy taller than his car. He held it over his head and the crowd cheered. Grace stood by, smiling, but it never reached her eyes. He let her stew off to the side, not calling attention to her. After a few more pictures, Stone motioned to her to follow him.

“Give me a minute or two to change before the press conference,” he told Walt, George and anyone else who was listening. “Come on, love,” he said, holding out his hand.

She took it and he dragged her to the trailer.

Once the door was closed, he pressed her against the cool wall with his hips and chest. With one hand on her chin, he tipped her face to his. The other hand he propped on the wall, before he leaned in and kissed her. It wasn’t a wimpy kiss. It was like the one they hadn’t finished in front of the crowd except there was no slow start. This time he made sure she knew exactly what he was thinking about. Before he couldn’t get too excited, because he’d known he wouldn’t be able to finish what they’d started.

Now they were alone in the dark of his trailer with close to seventy-five hundred people around them, but he didn’t care or want to think about them.