Sweet Carolina (20 page)

“Shit,” he said. “We've got trouble.”

“What is it?” Russell asked.

“A shimmy in the right rear tire. Low air
pressure?”

“Could be,” Russell said. “How bad is
it?”

Dell claimed another foot of track from
Harbinger's lead. “It's not good. Fuck! What the hell happened?
We've been running smooth all day.”

“Can you keep her on the track?” Caro
asked.

“I'm trying,” Dell said. It was getting
harder by the second. The rear end of the car was shaking like a
can of spray paint in a tagger's hands. He backed off on the
throttle and lost the few feet he'd gained on Harbinger.

“Two laps to go,” Jeff said.

“Dell?” Caro questioned.

“I think I can hold onto second, but passing
Harbinger is out of the question.” Shit. What the hell happened? “I
think we lost a lug,” he said.

“White flag,” Jeff said.

One more lap to the checkered. Dell made the
decision. Missing lug or not, if he could hold onto the car, he
might be able to nose past Harbinger in time to claim victory.

Dell throttled up. The wheel jerked beneath
his hands, but he held on tight and eased up on Harbinger's ass,
his car fighting him every inch of the way.

Move. Move. Move.

Finally, he got close enough to steal the
lead car's air. Harbinger's rear end slid up the track.

“Clear,” Jeff said.

Dell wrestled his car alongside Harbinger's.
The rear tire shook hard enough to rattle his teeth but Dell
refused to give up. A few feet more and he'd be in the lead. All he
needed to do was be first across the line. An inch or a mile, it
didn't matter. The money was the same either way.

His arms ached with the effort to keep the
car on the track. Fuck. So close.

The finish line beckoned. Dell throttled up.
The car shot forward, overtaking Harbinger by a nose, then all hell
broke loose.

Dell fought the steering wheel as the backend
of the car flew apart in a shower of sparks and a symphony of
grinding metal.

“Fuck!”

“Dell!” Caro yelled in the headset.

Dell hung on, helpless, as the car spun and
crossed the finish line, broken-ass first, half a car-length behind
Harbinger.

The car came to a halt in the grass median.
Dell lowered the window net and waved to let everyone know he was
okay. He took his time unbuckling the safety harness.

“Carolina?”

“Dell? Are you okay?”

“Fine. Does second place count if you cross
the line backwards?”

He heard her smile in her answer. “Yes, it
does. Good work out there today.”

“I'm sorry, Caro. I don't know what happened.
I had the win.”

“You'll get the next one, Dell.”

He wasn't so sure. He'd done everything right
today. For the first time since his father's death, he felt like it
was the real Dell Wayne behind the wheel today. People thought he
didn't notice his own driving. Hell, he wasn't blind. But until
today, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to find his
way back to the old Dell Wayne. He'd driven smart today – none of
the aggressive shit he'd been living on for the last three years.
The checkered flag should have been his.

Since his talk with Dickey Warner, he hadn't
felt the restlessness he'd come to think was normal. He still
didn't particularly like the guy, but they shared a bond that went
beyond DNA. Caudell Wayne fucked up both their lives, and that was
something they could bond over, even if they didn't know how to be
brothers.

After their piss-fest on the Darlington
trophy, they'd finished off the beers in Dell's refrigerator and
gotten to know each other a little better. The alcohol loosened
their tongues, and though Dell wouldn't go so far as to call Dickey
his friend, he'd come to respect the guy. Dickey went from
idolizing Caudell, to realizing he wasn't a god, to accidentally
killing him, to finding out the man was his absentee father. In
some ways, Dickey's life was more fucked up than Dell's, and that
was saying something.

For Dell, having an ally in his hatred of his
father made it easier. Caudell was gone, or he would be if Dell
would loosen his grip and
let
him go.

Dell figured it was time to move on, put the
past behind him. He didn't have a damned thing to prove to Caudell
Wayne. The man made one son's life miserable, while he totally
ignored the other. The past was the past. It was time to look to
the future, and Carolina Hawkins was his future. She loved him.
Granted, he might have imagined her saying those words, but he
didn't care. If there was any chance she believed there was a man
inside him worth loving, then he was going to find him – for
her.

“Gotta go, Caro. My ride's here.” Dell waved
at the tow-truck driver.

Chapter Fifteen

Caro clenched the ladder rail with trembling
hands as she climbed down from the war wagon into the nest of
reporters waiting to talk to her. Dell ran a clean race today. Not
a single accident until the end. Even then, he'd spun solo. Coming
off his latest suspension, his dramatic second-place finish was big
news. She pasted on a smile and turned to face the crowd.

A million questions later and she headed to
the hauler. Finishing second meant post-race inspections, so they
weren't going anywhere for a while. It was a nice problem to have,
Caro mused. Maybe the inspection would turn up the problem with the
rear wheel. Whatever it was, it happened after the last pit stop. A
loose lug? It was the most likely answer. It wouldn't be the first
time a tire changer failed to properly secure a lug. She made a
mental note to remind both tire changers to practice as much as it
takes to get the timing down, though they'd never had a problem
before.

Still, Dell's life was on the line every time
he took the car out of pit road, so there was no room for error on
the part of the pit crew. Racing was dangerous enough without
adding unnecessary risk.

Caro pulled a water bottle out of the small
refrigerator and brought it to her lips, hating the way her hands
still shook. Watching Dell spin out as he crossed the finish line
nearly did her in. She curled up in the corner of the sofa and let
her head fall back. It wasn't like she hadn't seen Dell wreck
before, but after the last one that sent him to the hospital… well,
it didn't bear thinking about.

She needed to get a grip on her emotions. She
eyed the slight tremble on the surface of the water in the bottle
she still held. This is what she got for loving a racecar driver,
and now she understood why her father hadn't wanted this life for
her. Would it ever get any easier? She didn't see how it could.

Her heart all but stopped when he reported
the shimmy in the rear tire as her imagination went into overdrive
conjuring up all kinds of horrible wrecks that might result from a
tire failure at one hundred and sixty miles per hour. A shudder
racked her body. She set the water bottle on the nearest table and
wrapped her arms around her midsection.

The door opened, startling her. Caro jumped
to her feet. Dell stood there, all in one piece. One delicious,
sexy piece. She couldn't help it. She threw herself at him.

He caught her around the waist and held her
tight. She splayed her hands over his back and pressed her cheek
against his chest. His solid warmth banished the cold she hadn't
been able to shake since he'd first mentioned the shimmy.

“It's okay, Caro.”

“Let me hold you, Dell. Just for a
minute.”

They held each other, listening to the crew
stowing everything in the back of the hauler not necessary for the
post-race teardown.

“I thought…” Caro shuddered again. Dell
stroked her back in long, lazy sweeps. “I was so scared.”

“Shh,” he soothed. “I know. I'm sorry. I
don't know what happened.”

“God, Dell. I don't know what I would do if
anything happened to you.”

Dell eased her away enough to place a finger
beneath her chin and tilt her face up to his. They'd agreed to stay
away from each other, but Caro couldn't care less about what anyone
else thought of her. Right now, she needed the reassurance of
Dell's kiss. Her lips parted in invitation.

“Nothing happened, Caro. I'm here. I'm fine.”
Then, to drive home his point, he kissed her.

All the anxiety of the last few laps fueled
her need into a raging passion. She needed Dell. Needed to feel his
skin beneath her hands – needed the solid evidence of him against
her, inside her. She needed Dell like she needed her next breath.
Nothing else mattered but having him close to her. And if the rest
of the world disapproved, then to hell with them all.

“Dell,” she said when they came up for
air.

“I know we said we weren't going to do this,
Carolina, but I need you.”

Her heart sped up like a stuck throttle. She
nodded in agreement. “I need you too, Dell. I don't care what they
say.”

“I do, Caro. I care – a lot.” His words put
distance between them, but he didn't move.

Please don't say no
. She opened her
mouth to protest. His hips ground against hers and the shaft of his
desire dug into her belly. The words died on her lips. Her heart
raced with the knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted
him.

“I wanted to wait until the season was over,
or at least until you proved your point to the old boys' club, but
I can't, Caro. I need you too much. You're all I think about, day
and night. And God almighty,” he ran his hand down to cup her ass,
“this fire suit makes me insane.”

She smiled at the gravel in his voice. “I
could say the same about you,” she said. “I don't know what it is
about it, but I want to rip it off you every time I see you in
it.”

He cupped her face in his palm. His thumb
brushed her lips in a tender caress. His eyes reflected his own
wicked smile. “I'll wear it for you later, someplace private.”

“Promise?” she asked.

“Promise,” he said.

He kissed her again. This time, the banked
passion simmered below the surface like a trophy awaiting the
winner. Caro trembled again, but it had nothing to do with being
cold and everything to do with the man whose lips heated her blood
and stirred her soul.

* * * *

Dell couldn't wait to have Caro in his arms
again. She'd been more than willing back at the track, but they'd
agreed on discretion. The wait made the prize that much more
special. She offered her hand, and he led her through the lobby to
the bank of elevators. They waited in silence and rode to the upper
floor, letting their hands speak for them as they met,
palm-to-palm, fingers intertwined.

He'd chosen this hotel in a small town off
the usual route between Dover and Charlotte. No one would know them
here, but still, he wouldn’t jump her in the elevator, even though
he wanted to. Tonight, Carolina would be his – the old boys' club
be damned.

“I hate having to sneak around,” he said,
pulling her into his arms as soon as the room door clicked shut
behind them, sealing the rest of the world out.

“I'm through worrying about what they say
about me,” Caro said.

“I'm not,” Dell said. “I hate sneaking, but
I'd hate the gossip more. I won't give them any more ammunition to
use against you, Carolina.” He cupped her face between his palms.
“You mean too much to me. I want to see you succeed, and I'll do
anything I can to help you, and that includes making sure I don't
do anything to make it harder for you.” He kissed her, long and
slow, infusing the kiss with everything he felt for her and
couldn't put into words.

“Well, I sure hope you make something hard
for me,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh, God, Carolina,” he laughed and pulled
her against his erection. “You never have to worry about that. Do
you have any idea how difficult it is to race with a hard-on?”

Her hand closed over the hard length of him
through his jeans, making him groan.

“You've got on too many clothes,” she said as
her fingers found the top button and began to work it free. It
seemed to take forever, and then she went to work on the next one.
He took over, silently vowing to invest in some jeans with zippers
for expediency. God, he wanted to feel her small hands on him –
everywhere – almost as much as he wanted to touch her.

He worked the final button free, and in one
motion, shoved his jeans and briefs to his knees. His cock sprang
free like a thoroughbred out of the chute. Caro wrapped her hand
around him and his knees almost buckled. “Shit, Carolina. That
feels so good.”

She wiggled her other hand underneath his
shirt. He watched it bunch around her wrist as her hand slid over
his stomach to his chest. A none-to-gentle push pinned his
shoulders against the door. The top of her head sank lower, and
lower. His little brain was in charge of his body now, so he didn't
realize her intent until his dick disappeared, slipping between her
lips, the last remaining inches clamped tight in her fist while the
fingers of her other hand found his ass.

He couldn't look away. What was left of his
scrambled brain screamed at him to make her stop. He fisted his
fingers in her hair and willed them to force her away, but with
each lick, each suck of her soft, sweet tongue, he lost another
million brain cells. So instead of making her stop, he held on for
dear life and let her have her way with his dick.

Thank God for the door. Every time his cock
slid past her lips he moved a step closer to death. But, heaven
help him, he wanted to go this way. The only thing better would be
dying with his cock buried deep inside her pussy. The thought gave
him the strength to push her face out of reach of his cock.
“Carolina. I've got to have you. Now.”

Her gaze lifted to his. She ran her tongue
over her swollen pink lips and he almost shoved his cock past them
again. The look she gave him told him she wouldn't mind, but hell,
he minded. Her mouth was sweet as hell, but his body remembered
another sweeter spot and he was going to have it – now.