Winning It All (19 page)

“He asked me a question, and I answered it,” Darcy said, her tone pushing toward annoyance. “Nothing personal. What was I supposed to say?”

“
Get lost
is the first thing that comes to mind.”

Once they passed by the guard at the drivers’ and owners’ motor home lot, she grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. “So you’re mad I talked to him.”

“I said I wasn’t.”

“You’re mad about something.”

“I’m—” What was he exactly? He pushed his hand through his hair, resisting the urge to tug. Frustration and aggravation permeated his every pore. It was the upcoming race. It
had
to be. He was taking on Shawn and Kyle’s frustration with the car. One glance at Chance Baker talking to his woman couldn’t—

Oh, man.

His woman?

“I think Nicole left him,” Darcy said, breaking into his disturbing thoughts.

And it just gets better.
Or was it worse?

When he didn’t comment, but started walking again, she asked, “If that’s true, how do you feel?”

“Am I supposed to congratulate her, or commiserate with him?”

“Don’t be flip. My…episode happened because I was suppressing my feelings. They built up and—”

“And your knees were suddenly weak?” He flung open the door to his motor home. “Come on, Darcy. That was entirely different.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “No, it’s not. Are you really going to stand there and tell me it doesn’t matter to you whether or not your ex is still hooked up with Chance?” She held up her finger before he could speak. “Try to remember I’m the person who set you on your revenge quest.”

He stared at the floor. He couldn’t deny the truth to those all-seeing golden eyes. “Okay, fine. Maybe it matters. But at the moment Nicole doesn’t concern me near as much as you.” He met her gaze. “I don’t want you talking to Chance. I don’t even want you near him.” Lifting his hands, then letting them fall, he confessed the humiliating truth. “There you go. I’m a possessive, jealous idiot.”

D
ARCY’S MOUTH WENT DRY.
“Jealous? You’re jealous of Chance.”

“Yes.” Bryan hissed out the word. “He has what I’m supposed to have—a successful driving career, endless opportunities for fame, fortune, glory, trophies and championships. He also has my wife.”

Braced against the counter, Darcy tried to order her thoughts. She supposed she should be flattered Bryan was possessive of her. It was the
my wife
part that she couldn’t get past. He still thought of Nicole as belonging to him.

A lump rose in her throat that she fought to talk around. “Would you—”

“He took my wife,” he said harshly before she could get out her question. “He’s not taking my girlfriend.”

Her gaze jumped to his. “You don’t seriously think I’m interested in dating Chance Baker, do you?”

“If he tried to hire you, would you accept?”

“No.”

Her simple, immediate response seemed to startle
him. “What if he offered you triple the money?” he asked.

Darcy closed her eyes. Her heart contracted in her chest. “No.” She forced herself to look at him. “You think I’m here for money?” she whispered. “You think this is just a job to me?”

“I don’t know.”

Dear heaven, she had no idea his ability to trust was so damaged by that selfish witch he’d been married to. “I know I’ve got problems. I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with sometimes. I’m demanding and prideful.” She clenched her fist by her side. “But I am not
her.”

He turned away, then sank on the sofa, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Told you I’m an idiot. I’m not trying to compare you to her. I didn’t mean to—”

“Would you take her back if she asked you?”

He looked up. “No. No way.”

She didn’t completely believe him. Not that he was lying. He was telling the truth as he considered it now. But if Nicole came to him with tears and apologies, criticism of Chance and the way he’d treated her—whether that was true or not—Bryan would be tempted.

If for nothing else than to say he’d won.

“I’m sorry.” He snagged her hand and pulled her down beside him, then drew her into his arms. “I really messed this up.”

She inhaled his familiar, wood- and spice-infused
scent, and her heart ached. She was trying to move on with her life only to fall for a man who might never truly be hers? How stupid was that?

Yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself from taking the risk anyway.

“You could argue with me a little about the idiot part,” he said after a moment.

She pressed her cheek against his neck. “No, I really don’t think I can.”

Leaning back, he cupped her face in his hand. “Then will you forgive me and let me make you dinner?”

“I can do that.”

He kissed her softly. “I don’t want to talk about them anymore today.”

“Who?”

“Nicole and Tom.”

She angled her head.
Tom?
“What about Chance?”

“I
definitely
don’t want to talk about him. I barely acknowledge he breathes most of the time, but today I had to restrain myself from punching him out. I thought I’d gotten past that urge.”

“The past sneaks up and bites you when you least expect it.”

“I guess it does.”

She’d used the
I don’t want to talk about it
tactic with him, then proceeded to blab endlessly anyway. She doubted the same would work with him. And she knew they needed to talk about Nicole, just as she’d confessed her guilt about Tom. If she and Bryan were
going to make anything meaningful out of their relationship, they had to settle their pasts first.

After yesterday, she felt as if she was finally moving forward, and while he’d done so physically, she didn’t think he’d fully come to terms with how much his ex’s betrayal had scarred his heart. Or how much he craved Nicole’s acknowledgment that he was a better man than Chance.

But it had been an emotional couple of days, and they needed to set aside some of the unanswered questions and just enjoy each other.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s start the grill and table everything else—her, him, the past, fainting, all of it.”

“I can make a really great cheeseburger, you know.”

She shrugged. “If you say so. I’m not much of a judge. I haven’t had a cheeseburger in years.”

His jaw dropped. “Years? How do you survive?”

“You’re never really going to completely leave your red-meat-and-potato-loving ways behind, are you?”

“I doubt it.” He rose, pulling her up beside him. “You’ll just have to hang around to make sure I stay on the sort-of straight and narrow.”

The future.

Even the thought of anything beyond the next twenty-four hours used to make her sad. She’d planned a future once, and it had crashed to pieces. Even so, she couldn’t imagine not coming to the track with Bryan each week, working out with him, sharing meals with him, having him around to touch and hold.

And while he meant the comment casually, to her, realizing she could begin to finally think in that direction, was an incredibly bright spot in an otherwise tumultuous weekend.

“As long as you supply me with chocolate, I’m all yours,” she said lightly.

After a quick grin, he kissed her.

While he started the grill, she poked through the fridge for some veggies and fresh fruit to go with the burgers. If the man was determined to eat high-fat, high-calorie, at least she could provide some nutrition.

During the prep work, Cade and Isabel showed up—since their motor home was next door, they’d smelled the grill. Then Parker, Rachel and Mitch arrived. Before long, all the drivers, wives and kids on the row had wandered over, offering Bryan help at the grill, meat, side dishes and drinks to add. In no time, a full-fledged block party was underway.

With the last half of the NASCAR Nationwide Series race still rolling around them, there was a lot of good-natured jeering about who would win, who was doing well and what that meant for the race tomorrow.

Darcy was in her element.

She fed people who were hungry, even making miniburgers for the kids whose eyes widened in fear and awe at the size of the half-pound ones the adults ate. She ran between the kitchen and the tables that had been pulled together outside, offering appetizers, drinks and minimal comments about her and Bryan.

He’d been right. Everybody knew about yesterday.

But there were no snide remarks or leering curiosity. Everyone seemed to have an uplifting story to share about the life of their loved one or friend, shared memories of tributes and families who’d found strength among the racing community whenever they needed support.

It was so similar to the firefighters’ mentality she’d been part of for so long, she had to blink to realize she was in the company of women who’d cheered, supported and practically helped drive the car for their husbands to celebrate multiple racing championships. On a regional and national level. Nearly all their lives.

There were couples who’d just started out in the world of NASCAR racing; there were couples who’d been together thirty years.

“It’s hard to believe that when we come back here in a couple of months, it’ll be the first race for the championship,” Kevin Reiner’s wife, Kim, commented as the kids tossed around a football, and the guys argued the differences between gas and charcoal grills.

“Is it weird to think Kevin won’t be in the running to defend his title?” Rachel asked.

“A little,” Kim said. “But the kids and I like having him home more. He and I have been on the road together for nearly twenty years. It was time.”

“Does he actually sit on the sofa and watch the races on Sunday?” Darcy asked. Even after four and
a half years of retirement, Bryan never seemed to sit still during a TV broadcast.

“Oh, yeah.” Kim smiled. “The neighbors come over and we have cookouts like this. Of course Kevin spends half his time shouting at the TV. Either the commentators say something he doesn’t agree with, or a driver he likes or doesn’t like is doing something smart or dumb, depending.”

To Darcy, Kevin was always charming and teasing, but she knew he had to have an intense side, as all drivers seemed to.

“Hey, Darcy,” Kevin called out, as if he knew they’d been talking about him. “You’re a master chef. Isn’t a charcoal grill better?”

Apparently they were intense about grills, as well as racing.

She glanced at Bryan, who’d just cooked his burger masterpieces on charcoal. She generally preferred gas because it was easier to use and cooked more evenly. All that lighter fluid and fire must be a guy thing.

“Grilling is all in the seasoning and marinade,” she called back. “The grill just provides the heat.”

They all stared at her for a couple of seconds, then turned to each other and resumed the debate.

“I think you just put fuel on that particular fire,” Rachel said to Darcy.

“Naturally.” Isabel rolled her eyes. “She didn’t agree with one side or the other.”

“You can’t be neutral in this sport,” Kim added.

“What sport?” Darcy asked. “We’re talking about cooking. It’s not rocket science.” Thinking about the guys on the GRI teams, though, the way they hovered and offered advice when she helped cook lunch, she reconsidered. “They do take food very seriously.”

“Didn’t Big Dan make you audition before he’d let you touch his grill?” Rachel asked.

“He did.” But that seemed so long ago. Now, she and Big Dan were a formidable, well-balanced cooking team. She’d become part of GRI. Practically part of the family, according to Rachel.

But she’d only signed on for the season, and Bryan had made his fitness goals. He knew the rehab exercises so well, he really didn’t need her help. Would there come a time when she wouldn’t be part of the team? Would she and Bryan continue to date past the terms of her job? Or would it all be over at the end of the season?

Rachel laid her hand on Darcy’s arm. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” She shoved aside her troubled thoughts. This afternoon was supposed to be about relaxing. “Great, actually. I’m going to get another bottle of water,” she said as she rose. “Anybody else?”

When everybody shook their heads, she moved toward the motor home door, then slipped inside. As she grabbed a bottle from the fridge, she thought about the last couple of days and all that she and Bryan had shared and been through.

He’d been amazingly supportive and caring. And while he probably wouldn’t describe himself as patient, he had been—about her crises over the past and her inability to be intimate.

But if they were going to move forward, if she wanted to truly be part of the team, she was going to have to think beyond next week and consider her future. What she wanted, where she wanted to go, who she wanted to be with.

“Hey,” Bryan said as he opened the door. “You okay?”

She sipped her water and took in the long-legged, broad-shouldered length of him in his fitted navy T-shirt and jeans. “Yep.”

And feeling better by the second.

“What’re you doing in here by yourself?”

“Thinking about you,” she said, smiling as she walked toward him. She slid the tips of her fingers up his chest. “This was supposed to be our relaxing evening alone.”

His eyes lighting like blue flames, he wrapped his arm around her waist. “The smell of the grill drew too much attention.”

“Your burgers were great.”

“Yeah? You didn’t miss the tofu and alfalfa sprouts?”

“Not today.” She glared at him with mock sternness. “But it’s back on the program tomorrow. We run at seven.”

“A.M.?”

“Definitely.” She looped her arms around his neck. “Unless…”

He drew her tight against him. “Unless…?”

“Any chance we can have a relaxing
evening
alone?”

“Hmm.” He brushed his lips across her cheek. “I think we can manage that. But what in the world would we do all by ourselves?”

“We’ll think of something.” She grinned teasingly. “A movie maybe?”

“As long as we share the popcorn bowl with you sitting in my lap.”

“Then we’ll have to watch something we’ve seen before. You always distract me.”

As his eyes turned smoky, he brushed her hair off her face. “Or we could skip the movie and move straight to the fun part.”

She leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. Putting a little effort into the kiss, she found her pulse pounding, her blood heating. His hands, braced at her hips, tightened.

“Maybe we could run a little later,” she said softly when she pulled back, knowing she’d taken another step into her future.

A
LMOST BEFORE
B
RYAN BLINKED
, the company plane had touched down in Indianapolis, Indiana, the last weekend in July. One of the most prestigious trophies of the season was on the line in three days.