Hot Finish (17 page)

But that would mean he’d have to foot the bill himself, wouldn’t it?

Then below that there was a picture of her with Ryder, arms around each other in the lobby of the hotel. It was taken yesterday, given her outfit.

The nausea hit Suzanne like a cannonball to the gut, and she took short shallow breaths, afraid she was either going to faint or throw up.

The latest woman to accompany him is his ex-wife, Suzanne Jefferson, nee Hickey (I can see why she kept the married name, I mean, dude, Hickey?) in town together for Champions Week. Not known for getting along in the best of times, this sudden tender reunion has a lot of heads scratching and the media scrambling for the details of their prenup. Turns out the alimony ran out in October, which only goes to show you that money and sex do make the world go round and keep our lives as spectators all that much more entertaining.

She’s a little bit country, he’s a little bit rock ’n’ roll, folks, and one of stock car racing’s most famous couples is back in action.

Cue the karaoke and the chocolate fountain, and let’s hope this race lasts longer than their first time on the track.

That bitch. That lower-than-a-snake-belly blogging bitch. How dare she say that Suzanne was dating Ryder for his money? That was the last reason in the world she would be with any man.

Then there was Ryder. Where the fuck did he get off taking her to the same goddamn hotel he’d taken other women? The only thing that would be worse would be if he’d taken those sluts to the Bellagio where she and Ryder had honeymooned. If that were the case, then Suzanne would have had to cut off his junk and have fed it to the white tigers.

As it was, she just still might.

Suzanne started to read the comments people had posted in response to the blog, but after seeing people write that she was an idiot and/or a gold digger, she just closed the window on the screen and pushed the chair back. She was no gold digger, but she was an idiot. Tears streaming down her face, she ducked her head and fast-walked to the elevator, praying it would be empty.

It wasn’t, and she had to pretend there was something in her eye for the elderly couple gazing at her in concern. When she finally got to the haven of their room, Suzanne went for her empty suitcase and started tossing her clothes out of drawers into it. There was no way on God’s green earth she was sticking around to be humiliated any further.

She had known this was a bad idea, yet she’d chosen to ignore her gut, and now look at her. Being mocked by some twit with a made-up name, and thinking that this had been so romantic when Ryder had brought a string of women here previously. Probably even had stayed in the same room, had sex with them in the same bed where he’d loved on her.

“Damn it!” She kicked his suitcase sitting next to hers and resisted the urge to squeeze a tube of toothpaste all over his clothes.

She was in the bathroom, sweeping all her makeup into her cosmetic bag, throat tight from holding back sobs, when Ryder came in.

“Suz? What are you doing?” he asked, coming to stand in the doorway, hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I’m leaving. Going back to Charlotte, where I should have stayed in the first place.”

“Why? What the hell is the matter? We’ve been having a good time, I’m pretty damn sure.”

Where did she even begin to list all the things that were the matter?

Zipping her makeup bag shut, she turned to him. “I am not going to be just another woman that you brought to this hotel for a weekend screw.”

“Why would you even say that?” Ryder knew he was gaping at Suzanne, but there were times he just could not follow her thought processes. “I just suggested we get married!”

“If that was a marriage proposal, it was a shitty one! And I know I’m not the first woman you brought to this hotel, and now so does everybody else thanks to Tuesday Talladega and her damn gossip website.”

Ryder’s confidence they could work things out, which had already been seriously dented in the last hour, was smashed completely. Uh-oh. “First of all, that Tuesday chick is the modern equivalent of a rag magazine, and no one listens to a word she says. Second, you and I have both dated other people since we’ve been divorced. That’s no secret. You’ve had a life and lovers and so have I.”

“The same hotel, Ryder? That’s tacky with a capital T.”

“This is where the awards ceremony is! It wasn’t any sort of conscious choice. Why does it matter anyway?” Those women hadn’t been important to him. They had been diversions, amusement, company for a few of his many lonely nights. Nights he much would have preferred to have spent with Suzanne.

“Was it this room?”

“Huh?” Ryder felt a certain amount of desperation creeping over him. This was going terribly, horribly wrong.

“Did you stay in the same room with them?”

“You mean like a threesome? No, of course not!”

“I didn’t mean two at once, you dumb ass, I mean, did you have them share this particular room with you on those three separate trips . . . did you screw those women in the same bed you screwed me?”

“No.” He didn’t think. Hotel rooms all looked the same. “And that’s not fair anyway. I am positive you’ve had more than one guy share your bed at your condo and we’ve spent the night there together, and trust me, that is not a happy image for me. I mean, Carl, Suzanne? He didn’t have brawn or brains.” That idiot Suzanne had dated right after their divorce had been nothing short of totally unworthy of her. “But we were apart for two years, Suz. There’s nothing we can do about that but accept it’s the past. And as a side note, stop calling me dumb ass. I really hate that.”

“Stop being one.” She shoved past him and threw her makeup bag into her suitcase. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“Why? What is so wrong that we can’t talk about it and fix it?” Ryder was truly bewildered. “Maybe my suggestion about getting remarried was too soon, or poorly delivered, I can admit that, but the thing is you don’t make it easy for me. Half the time I’m afraid to tell you how I feel, because you tear me a new one, so I hold it in, then blurt it out.” He tried to touch her arm but she shook him off. “When you care about a woman as much as I care about you, there’s a lot at stake. I never want to mess it up, and yet, that’s all we seem to do.”

“We’re just talking in circles again. The same old arguments that never get us anywhere.”

“Maybe we should try talking instead of yelling then running.”

Yet Suzanne just zipped her suitcase closed, yanked it off the bed, and pulled up the handle. “I’m leaving.”

Ryder’s anger dissolved as the enormity of what she was saying hit him and his heart splintered yet again.

“Well, that is what you do best.”

Her lips tightened at his parting shot but she didn’t say a word. She just rolled her suitcase across the room and left. The door closed with a final and loud click.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

“I’M
worried about Suzanne,” Tamara told Imogen under her breath as they suffered through Nikki’s bridal shower together.

“I am, too,” Imogen said as she bit into the vegan cupcake that had been served for dessert. “She looks exhausted and she will not even discuss what happened between her and Ryder and it’s been a week already.”

Tamara had known Suzanne for six years and she was her best friend in the whole world. Watching Suzanne move around the room, her dress loose from having lost weight, her skin wan, and her hair dull, she was genuinely worried about Suz. “She wouldn’t really talk about it with me either, just told me to go read that Tuesday Talladega’s blog. But Suzanne should know not to let that stuff bother her.”

“What stuff? Being humiliated online or discovering that her ex-husband took her to the same hotel as three previous paramours?”

Okay, when Imogen put it like that . . . “I know. It’s really hard to be the target of gossip. I’ve endured my share of mudslinging over the years and Elec had someone accuse him of fathering her child if you recall. It’s not fun. But it’s part of the business, unfortunately.”

Tamara had abandoned her own cupcake after eating half, well aware that she had gained a couple of pounds since her wedding—she liked to call it happy hips. But if she could give five pounds to Suzanne she gladly would, since she had extra and Suzanne was wasting away.

Suzanne was moving around the room, ensuring everything was as it should be for the event, a completely over-the-top fantasy-inspired bridal shower for seventy. Tamara didn’t know ninety percent of the women in the room, and she didn’t really think she wanted to try. What she really wanted to do was kidnap Suzanne and force her to take a seventy-two-hour nap and eat some pasta and steak.

“Has Elec mentioned if Ryder said anything to him?”

“No, he said Ryder is not saying a word and that he’s spending all his time down at the garage checking on his Daytona car.”

“Ty said the same thing. He said he confronted Ryder and didn’t get any sort of explanation whatsoever.”

“So neither one of them are talking. Not good.” Tamara saw Suzanne moving in their direction. “Let’s grab her and make her sit down at least.”

She sprang up and wrapped Suzanne in a hug. “Will you sit down?” she whispered in her ear. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“I’m fine.” Suz gave her a tight smile. “Nikki only cried once today and that was when she saw what Jonas was wearing, which kind of made me want to cry, too, so all in all, a successful event.”

The dark circles under Suzanne’s eyes were the color of Tamara’s favorite charcoal gray eye shadow, and she went from concerned to alarmed. “Okay, you know what? When this shindig is over you are coming home with me for the night and we’re going to put on comfy pj’s and drink wine and relax, do you hear me? I can’t remember the last time I heard you make a snarky Suzanne comment and we know that’s just not normal.”

“I just criticized Jonas’s clothes, doesn’t that count?”

“No, that was halfhearted.” Tamara pushed Suzanne down into her empty chair. “I don’t think you’ve eaten, do you want my cupcake?”

Suzanne’s already pale face turned waxy. “No, thanks.” She did sip from Tamara’s water glass then immediately stood back up, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I will come over after the shower if you don’t mind me falling asleep on your couch.”

“Not at all. I’ll even put a blanket over top of you.”

“Thanks.” Suzanne gave a small smile then winced when Nikki squealed in delight at something she had unwrapped.

“That’s the last gift, and I just want to say something,” Nikki said, waving her arms to get the attention of the room. “There has been someone who has totally been there for me, who has kept me sane, and helped me figure out every last little detail of this wedding, and I owe her such a huge thanks. It’s not easy to plan a wedding in six weeks and I could not have done it without her.”

That was nice, at least Nikki was going to acknowledge Suzanne.

“So a round of applause for my best friend, Sara. You’re awesome!”

A blonde popped up to the right of Nikki and smiled and blushed and hugged Nikki. “Is that the girl who slept with Evan Monroe?” Imogen asked, moving next to them, her coat on her arm like she was done with the whole shower and heading home before she got caught in the exit flow.

“Yes,” Suzanne said, a grin actually splitting her face. “Evan got in over his head with that one. She’s got wedding bells on her mind already.”

Yikes. “There is no way in hell I’m letting my brother-in-law marry that girl. And Nikki should have thanked you, not that twig!” Tamara said, annoyed on Suzanne’s behalf.

“Yeah, well, Sara’s been about as helpful as a back pocket on a shirt, but I have to admire a friendship built entirely on their mutual ability to stroke each other’s egos. It’s really quite amazing and entertaining.” Suzanne glanced around the room. “Now let me find the catering manager so I can sign off and we can get the hell out of here.”

SUZANNE
wasn’t sure going to Tammy’s was a good idea, but now that she was spread out on the couch in borrowed fleece pj pants, an afghan over top of her, she was damn glad she had. Imogen was sitting cross-legged in a rocker and Tammy was digging through her wine cabinet.

“What time are the kids getting home from your in-laws?”

“Probably about seven since they took the kids Christmas shopping, and Elec’s upstairs on the computer, so we can hang out as long as we like. In fact, I think you should spend the night, Suz. I’ll make you a Southern breakfast.”

Her friends were clearly worried about her and she was touched. She knew she looked like shit. She felt like shit. And she had a worry weighing on her like no other, in addition to the hurt she was feeling over Ryder and his taking her to his love shack, aka the Wynn Hotel.

“I just might, we’ll see.”

The family room was cozy and warm and the Christmas tree was glowing in the corner, a blinking star on the top. Tammy had a fancy theme tree in the foyer, while the one here in the family room was colorful and vibrant and a little overdone, showing the kids’ hand in it. Hell, and probably Elec’s touch. Suzanne hadn’t even bothered to put up a tree this year. She wasn’t feeling Christmas. She was just feeling crappy.

“What kind of wine do you want? Red or white?”

“I’m not going to have any wine.”

“I’ll take red,” Imogen said, then raised her eyebrows at Suzanne. “No wine, are you sure?”

“I can’t because I think I’m pregnant.” No better way to say it than to just drop it out there. She thought she was pregnant. There it was. As scary and horrible and bile-producing as it was, it was the truth, and there was nothing she could do about it.

There were twin gasps from Tammy and Imogen, but mostly they just gaped at her for a long drawn-out second. Suzanne understood the feeling. She’d been pretty much feeling bug-eyed and speechless for the last week since she had started to figure out something was not right with her normally regular cycle.

“
What?
” Tammy managed, still hunched over the wine cabinet, her butt in the air and her hair falling over her eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

She wished. Lordy be, how she wished she were joking around.

“How late are you?” Imogen said, her feet dropping to the floor, leaning forward as she pushed up her glasses. “You’ve probably just gotten yourself off schedule a few days because you’ve been so busy and stressed. You can even skip a period when you’re stressed and not eating well.”

“I’m two weeks late, y’all. That’s not normal.”

“Did you and Ryder use protection? It could just be something hormonal, totally unrelated to pregnancy.”

Imogen, God love her, always made sense, but Suzanne knew in her gut that she was knocked up again. It felt the same. Fatigue, tender breasts, nausea that always hovered on the edges of her attention. “I forgot to take my pill one night and took it the next day. Ryder wasn’t using a condom, which given his past, I should have made him.”

The dog. The totally uncreative hotel chooser, super-sperm Captain Dickhead.

“Well, you need to take a pregnancy test before you jump to any conclusions.” Tammy stood up, setting the bottle of wine on the buffet and coming over to the couch. “We can go to the store and get one and you can take it right now, while we hold your hand.”

“I have one in my purse. I’ve been carrying it around for three days. I figured that was sort of like addressing the problem but not really actually having to deal with it.” Proactive to a certain point, that worked for her.

“Then let’s take it now.”

“You make it sound as if this is a group effort. I can pee on the stick by myself, but I did buy a multipack because it was on sale, so you’re welcome to the spare.”

“Oh, I know I’m not pregnant,” Tammy said. “Elec can’t . . .”

Then she stopped talking and her face flushed pink.

Suzanne was actually momentarily diverted. “Are you telling me Elec can’t get it up?” Jesus, and she thought her life was shit.

“Of course he can! He can definitely get it up, he gets it up
a lot
. He is younger than me, remember.” Tammy glanced toward the stairs and dropped her voice. “It’s not something he likes known, and I swear if you say anything to anyone or to him, I will kill you, but he can’t have children. It’s really hard for him to know that he’ll never have his own biological kids. That’s part of why he loves mine so much.”

“Oh, Tammy, damn, I had no idea.” Suzanne swallowed the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. God, to not be able to have children? That was something she couldn’t comprehend. It put a whole new spin on her dilemma. “I’m so sorry.”

“We’ve talked about adoption,” she whispered, but then waved her hand. “But we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. Get your butt in the bathroom.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Suzanne threw the blanket off of her and sighed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“How will you feel if it’s positive?” Imogen asked.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I mean, I’ve always wanted a baby, desperately. But this is far from ideal circumstances. I’m broke and I just applied to law school.”

“You applied to law school?” Tammy asked, her face squinching up. “Since when?”

“Since Vegas. I always wanted to go to law school, you know, but I was afraid to take the leap, to get the loans and just do it. And after all this wedding business with Nikki, I just realized it’s now or never. I can try to do something I’ve always wanted to, something that makes a difference in the world, or I can just resign myself to a job I don’t really care for. So I figured I would apply and see what happens.”

She had needed to do it. It was time to grab the steering wheel and drive her own life instead of just being along for the ride.

“I didn’t know you wanted to be a lawyer,” Imogen said. “That’s an excellent choice for you.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to be a lawyer either and I’ve known you for six years. I swear, Suzanne, sometimes you’re such a guy.”

“What does that mean? I don’t spit and I don’t have any balls to scratch and I’ve never claimed romance is an ice-cold beer and a swat on the ass.” She wasn’t a guy, and she was kind of offended by the comparison.

Tammy laughed. “What I mean is that you do what men do in that you think things through quietly, in your head, and then just announce the conclusion. Most women don’t do that. Most women fret and worry and talk it through from all angles over and over with their girlfriends and their partner and finally, sometimes, come to a conclusion. Men work it all through in their head, and you don’t even know they’re thinking about anything so when they announce it, everyone’s left scratching their heads and wondering where that came from. You do the exact same thing.”

Her first reaction was to deny it, but as she thought about it, Suzanne realized there was a measure of truth to it. “So? It just means I’m not bugging anyone with my stupid shit.”

“But you don’t let anyone in, honey, to offer advice or to support you,” Tammy said in a soft voice. “We can be here for you more if you’d let us. And Ryder would understand you better if you shared with him once in a while.”

Disturbed by the tone of the conversation, Suzanne stood up and went for her purse on the end table. “There’s been plenty of sharing between Ryder and I lately. We don’t need any more sharing or I’ll wind up having triplets.” She yanked the pregnancy test out of the bottom of her purse where she had wedged it.

While she sat on the toilet seat in Tammy’s powder room waiting for the test to do its thing, she pondered what her friend had said. Since when had working through problems and feelings on your own become a flaw? She had always thought of it as a strength, not a weakness. But maybe there was something to Tammy’s point that coming to a conclusion on your own blindsided people.

The truth was, she didn’t know what she was doing when it came to relationships. She never had. Her grandparents had been great people and had loved her, but there had always been a part of Suzanne that had resented being abandoned by her mother. So she had kept her emotions in check and hidden in private.

It was easy for her to say whatever she was thinking, unless it was an emotion. That might make her vulnerable, and she wasn’t having any of that.

Suzanne glanced at the pregnancy test resting on the vanity, figuring it wouldn’t be ready yet.

But it was.

Pregnant.

Her stomach did a flip.

It looked like she was going to have to accept vulnerable and learn to live with emotional, because she was having a baby.

Ryder’s baby.

Again.

“What’s going on in there?” Tammy pounded on the door.

Forcing herself to stand up on shaky legs, Suzanne swung the door open. “I’m pregnant and I think I’m going to faint.” The whole room was starting to spin and she was seeing spots. That wasn’t good.

“Oh, Lord!” Tammy reached out and grabbed her arm.