One Last Hold (10 page)

She curbed her fear. If the killer was, in fact, after Chad’s information, maybe he would be after Wesley next. She wasn’t sure how racecar drivers operated, but maybe Wesley had certain moves, certain secrets Chad kept a folder on.

Maybe his murder had nothing to do with racing. Maybe the file folder was just a coincidence. Maybe Chad had old enemies no one knew about.

Wesley, a suspect? No. No way. Was it possible his mother’s death changed him? Made him vicious and uncaring and able to take the life of his opponent? No, she would never believe that about him.

They ate outside, sitting across from each other. The sun disappeared behind the mountain, casting a fiery hue across the peaks. A fire crackled in the pit but it was Wesley’s heat that kept her warm, the scent of pork barbecue filling her nostrils.

She tried not to notice the way his muscles bunched under his shirt, the way night shadows lined his face and forearms.

“What are you going to do now?” Caitlyn risked asking after a bout of eating in silence.

“About what?”

“Clearing your name.”

Wesley shrugged. The meat, although tasty, settled like ash in her throat.

“I’ve been in contact with an attorney, a friend from law school that I’ve kept close to. But right now, I’m just curious about this family tree. I mean, why would this be important? I have a lot of questions now.” Wesley laid his fork on his plate and wiped his hands. “Things I ignored when I was a kid and didn’t care enough to think about.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we lived here in North Carolina when I was a baby. My dad left when I was three years old, I don’t remember it much, just pictures. He came back three years later and begged my mom to give him another chance. Claimed he wanted to be a husband, a father, and he missed his family. My dad had been gone for three years, and now I’m wondering what happened in that time. I hope I can trust you not to write about that,” he said, as an afterthought.

“Most things about your past I already know. If you don’t recall, I was very much a part of it at one time. I’m here to write about you, the here and now, and the things you tell me. I’m going to pretend I don’t know you and only write what you tell me.”

He picked up his fork again, and it clanked against his salad bowl. “I’m telling you this.”

“You’re telling me this with confidence as a friend.”

“Maybe I need to research my dad’s life. I don’t know why I feel that way, but this family tree haunts me. He was adopted, you know.”

“I remember,” Caitlyn said.

Wesley nodded. “You ready to go inside?” he asked, and she wondered if he was trying to change the subject.

“I’m fine,” she said, though the only thing keeping her warm when she stepped away from the dwindling fire was the memory of Wesley’s mouth on hers.

“It’s getting cold out. Besides, I need water.” He stood and gathered dishes. Caitlyn took hers and followed him into the kitchen. They placed them in the sink and she washed them while Wesley fixed a glass of water for them both.

“You don’t have anything stronger?” she asked, teasing.

Wesley’s chuckle stirred her belly. “I’ll be glad to fix you something. I don’t have a full bar stocked yet but I might have some wine.”

“No, no, water’s fine.” She took the glass from him and leaned against the counter, watching him as he sipped water from his own glass.

“Being a journalist has its advantages, you know,” Caitlyn said.

Wesley’s gaze flicked to hers. “Like what? Besides getting to hang out with cool people like me?”

“People like to talk. People like their fifteen minutes of fame. Maybe I can find out what the cops think they have on you. Maybe find something about this family tree of yours.”

Wesley stepped forward and braced the side of her cheek, his thumb next to her ear. His green eyes smoldered into hers. “No. I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want you to put yourself in danger.”

She opened her mouth to speak but he shifted his thumb over her lips and shook his head.

“There’s a high probability that someone in the racing circuit killed him. They could have planted evidence to frame me. Take the top two racers out. I don’t want you endangering yourself.”

Her tongue darted out to sample his thumb, his face inches from hers. His warm breath slithered along her skin, brows crinkling moments before he dropped his mouth to hers. His fingers skated feather light across her cheek. He swept his tongue along hers, sucking then plundering deep.

She ignored the warning in her head that this was a mistake. How could it be a mistake if they both felt it? She bottled her memories. They didn’t matter now. The only thing that mattered was him, kissing her. Now.

Sex between them had been an explosion each and every time they made love. That was ten years ago and the feelings he evoked in her now were even more intense. They were both more mature, recognized the inconsistencies and unfairness of life. Understood that everything was fleeting and nothing should be taken for granted. What would sex be like between them now?

Judging by the way he kissed her, mind-blowing.

Caitlyn knew better than to take it further. Her heart would break again and she’d be left to pick up the pieces.

Again.

Caitlyn strode to the car with her hands hugged around her waist, her head ducked against the wind. Wesley followed two steps behind, the crunch of his heavy boots in the snow deepening his gloom.

He didn’t want her to leave. But she
had
to leave.

The scent of barbecue basted the air. Wesley caught a whiff of it in her hair as she turned back to face him, her hair flying in the breeze.

She gripped the door handle. Her lips trembled against the coldness, and all she wore was a stupid white sweater and a long-sleeved shirt to keep her warm. Lights blazed from the house, patio lights threaded across the rooftop. The cold was almost unbearable now that they didn’t have the warmth of the fireplace on the porch.

“You aren’t in Texas anymore,” he stated.

Caitlyn opened the door and dipped her head inside to start the car. The windshield wipers skipped across the ice.

“You have to be prepared. You have to dress properly.”

She straightened out of the car and leaned against the roof rail. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Always bring layers,” he continued his lecture. “Flashlights. Extra water.” What was he thinking letting her leave? “I can’t let you go down that mountain.”

“I’ve got to get back,” she argued.

“What’s the hurry?”

Shivering, she hugged her arms, shook out her hair so that it covered her ears, then released her arms to gather the ends of her sweater over her fingers.

“Dammit, Caitlyn.” He ducked inside the car and shut off the engine then took her elbow, closed the door, and led her back to the house. “Nothing you have to get back to is worth your life. The mountain gets icy, it’s dark. You’re staying here tonight.”

He wasn’t about to let her leave. The roads were treacherous enough to drive on for the inexperienced, much less in the dark, on icy roads. The storm dumped more snow on the mountains than the weather had predicted, and the temperatures had dropped a good thirty degrees between now and their earlier meal.

Wesley led her to the living room, fetched a blanket, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“I have a spare bedroom and bathroom. You can sleep there.”

She nodded her head and clenched the blanket tighter, looking downright miserable. Well, okay, so she was ready to get back to where she needed to go. But it wasn’t about to happen tonight. He wouldn’t let her risk her life.

He showed her to the spare room, gave her some clothing, and bid her goodnight without even a kiss on her cheek. Best not to make things worse than they already were. The cold had numbed his body, but it didn’t take long for his blood to restore the longing he’d spent years trying to hide.

He could never run from his past.

*

“I’m sorry.” Caitlyn backed away from the doorway, not expecting to see a half-naked Wesley when she came down to say goodnight.

She’d showered, dressed in the boxers and shirt he loaned her, and came downstairs to say thank you.

She’d been numb earlier. Numb with the cold and numb with the confliction that she had no idea what to say, what to do next. Tried not to make things awkward between them. He’d accused her of coming back to start where they left off, and that had never been her attention. She didn’t want him to think that was her intention.

And now here he was.

She hadn’t expected to find him on the couch, playing a video game and cussing at the TV.

Wearing nothing but a towel.

She spun around, ready to bolt. Maybe he’d forgotten she was here or, most likely, hadn’t expected her to come back down. It was his house and she was the one intruding.

“Wait!” He tossed the game controller. “Caitlyn?”

“What?” She whirled around to face him. Big mistake. He was standing now. Revealing a body carved from steel. She didn’t know what to think of this stunt.

A towel?

A white towel that emphasized the natural darkness of his skin. The corners overlapped but offered a tease of what hid underneath.

“I’m sorry.”

She gasped at the splay of muscles across his chest, which paved down his stomach and branched into the perfect six-pack. An almost imperceptible drop of water fell from his hair.

He reached for the towel around his waist and tugged it open. She opened her mouth and stepped back, not sure if she was ready to bolt up the stairs or run into his arms. Her face flamed, and he hooted his hysterics when he revealed his shorts underneath.

“The look on your face…” Wesley crouched over, clutching his sides in laughter.

Caitlyn planted one foot in front of the other to keep from falling. She attempted to shoot daggers at him, but her pulse went
thump-thump-thump
. She deepened the frown while inside her body reeled with pleasure and anticipation.

Wesley looked damn good laughing, even if he was laughing at her. It felt good to see him laugh, and she couldn’t keep a smile from escaping.

She snagged the towel and slapped him with it. “Stop laughing.”

“Ouch.” He stepped aside to avoid the slap, a smile still covering his face.

“That was mean.” Caitlyn drew in a breath. Every nerve hummed like a grandfather clock, just ticking, waiting for the hour to boom. Waiting for him to touch her, taste her. She did not want to make the first move. She couldn’t make that first move. Once she did, no going back.

But
damn
. She wanted him to kiss her, more than anything in the world. She wanted to experience him, on her, inside her, as a part of her.

“I’ve shown you most of my house but the important part,” Wesley said, interrupting her train of thought. For a moment, she was afraid he planned to take her to his bedroom and do all the things she’d fantasized. “Follow me.”

“Where?”

“The garage so you can see my cars.”

He turned, indicating she should follow. She admired his back, ripped in muscles, but didn’t move. “Only after you put a shirt on,” she said, stopping him in his tracks.

He turned to face her and held out his arms. “Do I offend you going shirtless?”

Damn his smile.

“Yes. I mean no. It’s distracting, that’s all.”

“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t look sorry. “I’ll be right back, and meet you down here.”

He turned away again, flexed his muscles, and chuckled as he disappeared up the stairs. It took him less than a minute to return, this time wearing a promo shirt with his picture plastered all over the front of it. Like seeing him in person wasn’t enough.

“Nice shirt,” she quipped. “You sleep with a picture of yourself?”

“You know I sleep in the nude.”

Her eyes flickered, mouth tightening. He always did like to provoke her.

God, she wanted him. She wanted his hard, warm hands on her body and his warm, hardness inside her body. The lonesome night would prove to be intolerable.

She seriously doubted there’d be anything lonesome about tonight. Unless he had some admirable willpower or wasn’t as turned on.

“Enough fun. Come on.” Wesley took her elbow and steered her to his garage. She focused on putting one wobbly leg in front of the other but had to trudge through the shatters of nerves that escaped her.

They came to a garage. It wasn’t merely a two or even a three-car garage that would protect his cars from the elements, but a shop full of necessary tools and his current project.

Wesley enjoyed working on cars, driving cars, and going as fast as possible. Caitlyn remembered several times working with him in his garage and getting grease all over them. Cleaning up was half the fun as they’d go down to his pond and scrub each other until they were clean. Never mind the fact a pool beckoned in the backyard.

A few acres away revealed a pond, flanked by large oak trees and cypress lounging in the water. Oak leaves left a trail, making it difficult to be sneaky, and one time they had heard the footsteps before his parents arrived, seized their clothing, and made the appearance they’d been swimming the entire time.

Her face flushed. His parents had to have known better, but up until they were teens and didn’t know how amazing sex could be, there was no reason to worry. Once they found out, they did it everywhere.

“This is my current project,” Wesley said, bringing her back to the present. “Well, it’s practically finished.”

“Nice,” she purred, ogling the lime green classic car she couldn’t name. “I need to get my phone for a picture. What is it?”

“Nineteen-seventy Plymouth Barracuda.”

“Do you mind if I put that in my next article?” she asked.

“I don’t mind,” he said. “You going to write about your night spent with Wesley Webb, famous racecar driver?”

She laughed as he winked at her, and smacked his arm. “Some of this will be very interesting to the readers. What you do in your spare time, what your hobbies are. Videogames?”

“Relaxes me.”

“Will you pose for a picture?”