One Last Hold (14 page)

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Authors: Angela Smith

BOOK: One Last Hold
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“You just said it was impossible to contact him,” Rayma accused.

“It is, but I had no idea you happened to be a friend that happened to go to school with Wesley and just happens to be working on a story on him at the time. Pure luck on my part.” He cradled her chin. She kept her expression blank. “I’m truly sorry. It was an awkward situation and I handled it poorly. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Rayma wrenched away. Caitlyn grasped her hand and led her to the bathroom where only then, in the sanctuary of her best friend’s embrace, did she cry.

“I don’t know how I feel about this guy,” Rayma hiccupped through her tears. “Things have been happening so fast. But just once, I want the truth told to me.”

“Maybe he is telling the truth.”

“Does it sound like it?” Rayma pulled herself off of Caitlyn’s shoulders and nabbed a tissue.

“Rayma.” Caitlyn gripped Rayma’s shoulders with her hands and gave her a slight shake. “You wouldn’t believe it even if it was the truth.”

“Am I that bad?” she asked as she blew her nose.

*

“You have to believe me.”

Keegan appeared downright browbeaten. Wesley didn’t know Keegan well enough to know what to think, but if he didn’t have the balls to tell Rayma, did that mean he was hiding something?

No. Wesley knew all too well the reasons for secrets and continued to keep them today.

Keegan and Wesley’s relationship had basically been nil. Johnson married Keegan’s mother too soon—in Wesley’s opinion—after his own mother was killed. They’d met after Wesley graduated from law school and decided to give it up for racing. This time professionally. Keegan had been in law school at the time and Johnson was proud of him. He’d always wanted his son to follow in his footsteps but Wesley hadn’t been that son. Johnson again tried to lecture Wesley on racing, making those memories of the night his mother died more potent than ever. His dad didn’t support him and told him of how Keegan was doing the right thing and Wesley should learn from him. He’d cut himself off from any relationship with his dad.

It’d been over six years. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Johnson in that long. Now he finds out Caitlyn’s boss is a business partner with his dad and Caitlyn’s friend is Wesley’s stepbrother’s girlfriend.

It made Wesley sick to his stomach. He didn’t believe in this many coincidences.

“I really love this girl,” Keegan said. “She’s so damned suspicious of everything. I don’t know what the last man in her life did to her, but I’m the one paying for it. She keeps secrets, too.”

Chapter Thirteen

When Caitlyn and Rayma stepped out of the bathroom, Wesley and Keegan were drinking beer and playing cards.

“Care to join us?” Wesley asked, shooting slow shivers down Caitlyn’s legs. He had to be exhausted after today and the last thing he should be doing is entertaining her friends, even if one of them was his long-lost stepbrother. “There’s beer in the fridge and wine in the cabinet. If anyone is hungry I can fix us something to eat.”

“You’ve been working all day,” Keegan said. “The last thing you should be doing is worrying about feeding guests.”

“I’ve been racing all day. That’s hardly work.”

“You really love it, don’t you?” Keegan asked as he exchanged one card for another.

“Absolutely. Driving fast cars all day? What’s not to love?”

“That type of concentration seems like it would get exhausting.”

“Sure, it is exhausting.”

“If we’re intruding—”

“You’re not intruding,” Wesley assured Keegan.

Caitlyn’s gaze roamed over Wesley, drinking in his relaxed posture and tousled hair. Her fingers tightened at her sides as she repressed the need to drum them together. She’d rather drum them across his chest, slide into the seat next to him and rake her nails over his body.

God, she was the one exhausted. Daydreaming about things that would never happen. Could never happen. She wasn’t here to pick things up where they left off. She was here for a story, nothing else. Except a purging of emotions. And having sex with Wesley wasn’t going to do that.

And Keegan? Yes, this whole situation was strange, but she tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He kept clearing his throat and rearranging his cards as his gaze darted between Wesley, his cards, and Rayma, who stood stock-still beside Caitlyn with her arms crossed.

She didn’t know that he was on the up and up about everything, but found it hard to believe that he would date Rayma just because he wanted a chance to see Wesley. Maybe fate had opened this door for him, not that she believed in fate but if she did, she could believe that’s what happened.

Wesley’s acceptance of the situation swelled her pride. He was so calm, so accepting after his initial outburst. Tears burned her lids. No wonder she’d never stopped loving him.

Keegan laid down his cards. “Looks like you win another hand.”

Rayma’s forehead bunched and lips tightened when Keegan rose and strode toward her, but she didn’t push him away when he wrapped his arms around her. Settling his chin on her head, he muttered low in her ear.

“Excuse us a moment,” Keegan said as he led Rayma outside.

Once they were outside, Caitlyn exhaled loudly and sat at the table across from Wesley. “I’m so sorry about that.”

Wesley shrugged and shuffled the cards. “No worries.”

“I know you must be exhausted.”

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep. This is good downtime.”

“Playing cards with a stepbrother you never liked and dealing with my friend’s drama is good downtime?”

Wesley’s mouth lifted in a mock smile and he glanced at her and winked before dealing the cards. “It’s not that I didn’t like him. We just didn’t have an opportunity to like each other. Not really. Bad timing and all that.”

“I see.” Caitlyn didn’t see. Not really. Wesley was downplaying his emotions, but now wasn’t the time to push. She had no right to push.

“It is a little awkward,” Wesley admitted as he glanced at the cards he’d dealt himself and frowned.

Caitlyn picked up the hand he’d dealt her and stifled her grin when she spotted two aces and three tens. “That’s an understatement.”

Wesley nodded and studied his cards.

Might as well make the best of this situation. “What are we playing for?” she asked.

“I still want that Janis Joplin record your mom gave you when you were fifteen.”

“And I want that Cuda you’ve got parked in your garage.”

“That’s a hard bargain.”

Caitlyn shrugged. She’d never take his vehicle over a winning hand, no matter how tempting. “Maybe just a drive then.”

“Fair enough.”

Caitlyn laid down her cards. Full house.

“Damn woman. You’re not even going to give me a chance?”

“Nope. I want that ride.”

Wesley dropped his cards. A jack, eight, nine, three and an ace. Caitlyn laughed as he whisked them away and shuffled again.

“Two out of three,” he said.

She picked up another hand and her two tens won over his hand of nothing.

“Guess we better plan on a time when I can take that drive. Oh, and don’t forget, I will be the one driving.”

“What game are we exactly playing here, anyway?”

Caitlyn shrugged. They’d grown up playing this game together. “I dunno. I thought you made this game up.”

“The one I made up is the one where I always won.”

“Hah. That’s because you always cheated.”

Wesley’s eyes narrowed. “Me? Never. I just wanted to see you naked.”

Caitlyn let out a throaty laugh as heat slithered under her skin.

“Are you hungry?” Wesley stood, as if what he’d just said had done nothing to affect him.

She wiggled in her seat and pressed her knees together. She’d never be able to eat. “Not right now. You?”

“Maybe a little.” He opened the fridge and rummaged around, pulling out food.

“Ha-ha. You’re just afraid of losing again.”

Wesley snorted as he pulled out a tray and sliced fruit. Her gaze was drawn to him, his broad shoulders, ropy forearms, and the way he moved so comfortably in the tight space of his RV.

She breathed deeply, silently, attempting to let go of the awkwardness and doubt and desire that clobbered her.

Wesley could have kicked them out ages ago. She didn’t want to overstay their welcome, but had no idea what he was thinking because he’d never say. Should she be the one to say thanks, but we need to leave?

God, she didn’t want to go. Not yet. And besides, Keegan and Rayma needed to talk alone. Not that they couldn’t do that once they got back to the hotel.

Or maybe she should go to him and wrap her arms around him, press up against his back and rub his shoulders to ease his tension. He’d never been able to deny her before. Would he be able to now?

Her phone buzzed. She groaned at the message from Blake.

“What’s wrong?” Wesley asked, his back facing her as he prepped food. She admired his back, his butt, his long legs, the way his shoulders flexed as he diced up fruit. It’d be so easy to pretend things were normal between them. That they had no history and their past didn’t matter. If they could just keep playing games, drinking beer, and talking about old record collections, maybe reality wouldn’t be so harsh.

He moved swiftly in the kitchen, and she wondered if she could say something about his cooking in her next article.

The article Blake was already pressing her for.

“Blake wants to know if I got a good story for him.”

“Have you told him about my burning desire for your record collection?”

Grinning, Caitlyn shook her head. Wesley glanced at her, threw a strawberry in his mouth, winked, then returned his attention to the food.

“I’m assuming you still have it.”

“Oh, yes. It grows every year.” Caitlyn had inherited most of her records from her grandmother, and her mom had continued to give her one has a gift on her birthday. Wesley had always anticipated her birthdays to see which record she’d get. They’d spend hours playing them together, dancing together. Caitlyn had teased him about only wanting to marry her for her record collection. “I lost a few after moving one year. Probably was stolen by the movers, but I could never prove it. But I have more than enough. I often beg my mom to stop or I’ll need an entire room to store them.”

“I’m sure they’re all labeled and organized.”

Caitlyn pressed her elbow into the table and relaxed her chin in her hand. “How else could I keep track of them?”

Wesley slid a plate of cheese, fruit, and bite-sized sandwiches across the table. “Should I go check on Rayma and Keegan?”

“I can send her a text.”

“So that I don’t interrupt anything?” Wesley’s smile twitched, eyes twinkled he sat in the seat across from her and grabbed a sandwich. “Probably a good idea.”

“And what about Blake?”

“What about him?” he asked then bit into his sandwich.

“What should I tell him?”

Wesley’s jaw tightened before he glanced away. He finished chewing before speaking. “What does he want to know about me? What does anyone want to know about me? I have a car collection almost as big as your record collection. I’m a huge fan of zombie movies, and I don’t believe in ghosts.”

Caitlyn picked up a sandwich, but it knotted in her throat as she chewed. “That’s random.”

He held up a finger. “But interesting.”

Every nerve ending in her body tingled. She didn’t want to press for an interview, and she’d be able to think of a story no matter how late she had to stay up to write it, but finding one that wasn’t too personal but personal enough for Blake was difficult.

The last thing she wanted to dig up in the article was ghosts.

“Blake is hoping for an exclusive,” she said, her voice soft. She didn’t want to press this. She wasn’t ready for the interview because once that was done, she’d be pulled from the assignment. She wasn’t ready for the assignment to be over. If it ended now, things would only be worse.

“I don’t do exclusives. This will have to be enough.”

Rayma and Keegan knocked lightly on the door before walking back inside, holding hands. Caitlyn rubbed the back of her neck as dread rolled in her stomach. She wasn’t ready to leave, wasn’t ready for this night to end, but the expression on Rayma’s face said it was time to leave.

Don’t crave more than what was possible at the moment.

Make him miss me.

Keegan strode forward and held out his hand. “Wesley, thank you for everything.”

He stood, shaking his hand in return. “No problem. It was good to see you.”

“Are you about ready?” Rayma asked Caitlyn.

She shot her gaze toward Wesley before landing on Rayma and nodding. Snatching a strawberry from the plate, she stood. Heat charged her but she bottled her longing. They were her ride. Unless Wesley offered a ride back to the hotel.

He didn’t. And he shouldn’t. God no, he shouldn’t.

“Everything okay?” Wesley asked his stepbrother. If a man was worthy of falling in love with by the way he treated a girl’s friends, he would be that man. Not that she didn’t have plenty of reasons to fall for him all over again. But he’d been so accepting, so caring.

Was it all a show?

This assignment was supposed to purge him out of her system, not flood her with longing. Things were going to be worse, so much worse on her when this assignment was over.

*

She was a reporter, after an exclusive. Nothing else. He had to remember that.

Many journalists had vied for an exclusive, but Caitlyn’s history with him could give fans insight no one else could.

She wasn’t a friend, she wasn’t even a fan. She’d hated racing when they were growing up, had never understood his devotion to the sport on Sunday afternoons. She’d never known how important it was to him, how much he longed to get behind a car, how much fun he had visiting his uncle when he was allowed to get behind the car and race along the track with Tim’s friends.

It was hard to believe that the only reason she was here now was for a story. Although he had to give her credit for playing it cool and not pressuring him, for writing decent accounts of his racing so far, for acting like she was having a good time. He had to remember she was a high-minded career girl who walked along a path he couldn’t respect.

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