Dangerous Race (19 page)

“Here you go, hon,” she told him as she set his menu on the table next to her. “Have a nice dinner. Our special tonight is shrimp scampi.” She smiled and headed back toward the blonde who looked as though she might sharpen her claws on Tracey’s body before the night was through. Great.

Mac stood at his table and sighed before sitting down. They couldn’t have been more than three feet apart at their respective tables, but neither said a word.

A waiter came by and thankfully interrupted the strained silence. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked Tracey.

“Iced tea, please,” she said.

He turned to Mac. “What can I get you to drink, sir?”

“Iced tea,” he growled.

Boy, he was in a mood.

“I’ll get those right out to you,” the waiter said, and he scurried away. A few minutes later he came back with drinks and took their dinner orders. They still hadn’t said anything to each other and the tension was getting beyond ridiculous.

Apparently Mac thought so too. “This is ridiculous,” he burst out. He shoved his chair back and took the seat directly across from her.

Oh, hell. So much for solitude. “Well, hi, Mac,” Tracey said as if he’d just now appeared. “What a coincidence…both of us here in the same restaurant…at the same time…”

“Tracey…” He looked so exasperated that she had to laugh. “What?” he asked with a look of complete confusion on his face.

“It’s either laugh or leave and I’m too hungry to leave.” She took a deep breath and placed her napkin across her lap. Maybe now was the time to face the issue. Not the
whole
issue, but part of it. They still had to get through five more days together. “Don’t you think it’s funny how bad we are at avoiding each other?” Her choice of topic surprised him. She saw it in the depth of his dark eyes.

“Yeah. I noticed that too. Maybe there’s a course we can take to get better at it.”

“With our luck we’d end up in the same class.”

Mac chuckled and it transformed his face. “With our luck we’d be assigned each other as lab partners.”

“Can you imagine?” She laughed more at the image of the two of them working together over a beaker in a science class, wearing goggles and big plastic gloves. But the smile disappeared when the vision had them naked and lying on the science table.

Mac shook his head, but that same grin made her palms sweat and she rubbed them against her cargo pants.

“Good day today,” he said, and his smile faded. “You were terrific out there. If you can do the same thing on Sunday, you can win this thing.”

The sudden change in topic, in Mac’s demeanor, threw Tracey off balance. She wasn’t used to hearing compliments from the man.

“Thanks,” she replied softly. “The car feels good. You and Matthew, well, all the guys are amazing at keeping her running.”

Mac looked at her, his intense gray-eyed gaze zapping thought from her mind. “You’re pretty damn good yourself at getting her around the track.”

Tracey swallowed, felt her face heat up. “Watch out, Mac. Two compliments in less than a minute. You’re treading on new territory here.”

His grin returned. “I figure if I keep my eyes open wide, maybe I’ll see when the ice is about to break.”

She probably deserved that, especially after the way she attacked him this morning. “Touché.”

To think that less than twenty-four hours ago they’d made love. No. They’d had sex. Tracey felt more heat in her cheeks and took a sip of her tea. The ensuing silence didn’t feel nearly as deadly. On second thought…maybe it did.

“It’s supposed to rain—”

“Tomorrow’s forecast—”

They glanced at each other, both going straight to the safest subject. The weather.

Mac went first. “Tomorrow’s forecast calls for rain all day, but I’m not too worried about losing the practice day. I think we’re in great shape.”

Tracey nodded to both points. “Yeah. I think so too. It’s definitely going to rain.” She felt the undeniable ache in her leg already.

Mac looked up at the ceiling then glanced at her with squinting eyes. “You think the sky’s going to fall?”

“What? Why?” Because of some rain?

“Because we actually agreed on something.”

Tracey let a smile stretch across her face. She couldn’t undo everything between them, but maybe she could help them move forward. “I don’t know. I bet if we tried real hard we could agree on a lot of things.” She continued to smile at the very skeptical look on his face. “Let me rephrase. I’ll bet we can come up with a
few
things that we have in common.”

“Ya think?” The absolute disbelief in his voice made her laugh again.

“Yeah. I think.” A welcoming zing of hope shot through her veins. She’d never sleep with him again, but maybe they had a shot at a friendship. And if not a friendship, then an understanding. Tracey sat forward in her chair and leaned into the table. “Racing can’t be the only thing we have in common.” The instant the words left her mouth, she regretted them. They had great sex in common, but hopefully Mac wouldn’t remind her of that. Just to be safe, she avoided eye contact.

“Be honest, Tracey. We almost don’t even have that in common.”

That was true. They argued about everything that had to do with racing. “We can agree that we both love the sport, right?”

Mac nodded. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that.”

What else? “Except for the fact that the rain will keep us from the track, and that it makes my leg ache something fierce, I like it. The rain, I mean. How about you?” This time she looked at him.

His sharp gaze focused totally on her and Tracey found herself holding her breath. Mac shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t mind rain.”

Close, but not a winner. “Okay…what else?” There had to be something they had in common. The waiter walked by with a hot dog on a plate and set it down in front of a child several tables away.

“Hot dogs,” she said.

“What?”

“Hot dogs. I love hot dogs. They’re my favorite food in the whole world. I can go to almost any town in America and tell you where the best hot dog is.”

“No kidding? Really?” He looked genuinely surprised. “New York.”

Tracey smiled, knew exactly what he was asking. “Hot dog vendor on the corner of Ave of the Americas and Forty-sixth. I don’t know the guy’s secret, but his dogs are the best.”

Mac’s brows lifted. “Los Angeles.”

“Law Dogs.” At his confused expression, she clarified, “They’re like…in the valley,” she said in her valley girl voice. “At least they used to be. It’s been a while since I’ve been there so I don’t know if they’re still around.”

The smile on Mac’s face made her insides tingle. A feeling that was happening more and more often with him. “Nope. In LA, it’s Pink’s,” he said.

“What about Cupid’s?” she countered.

“They run a close second.”

“You’ve never had a Law Dog, have you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t need to have a Law Dog to know that Pink’s is the best hot dog in LA.”

“So you think you know your dogs, eh?”

His gaze never left hers. “I do.”

That low voice and his complete attention made it tough to think straight and hard to breathe too. But she couldn’t look away. Desire swirled in the gray depths of his eyes and suddenly she had last night’s intimacies on the brain. Tracey lost her smile and leaned back in her seat, struggling to keep the casual tone they’d managed to find. “See. I told you we’d have something in common. Hot dogs.”

Glancing away, Mac seemed to feel the same tension. “How can you eat that many hot dogs and keep in shape?” he asked, taking a drink from his glass.

She shrugged. The word
genetics
came to mind, but she still didn’t know too much about her history, so she went with the next best thing. “Good metabolism.”

“What about here?” he asked. “Where’s the best hot dog here?”

“It’s been four years since I’ve been here and I haven’t really had a chance to catch up on the new places, so I can’t be sure.”

Mac nodded and sat back in his chair. A slow grin spread across his face. The man positively had something sneaky bubbling in his brain.

“What?” Tracey asked, trying not to sound as leery as she felt.

“You busy tomorrow?” Mac said. “I mean, provided it’s raining and we can’t practice?”

“I’ve got some interviews scheduled in the morning. Why?”

His grin got wider. “You’ll see.” He wouldn’t elaborate. Not a word the rest of dinner.

Mac couldn’t wait for the day to start. To be more specific, he hadn’t wanted last night to end. He finally had a taste of the Tracey Bradshaw who Joe must have known and loved. Aside from a few tense moments, they got along great. All through dinner, she smiled, she talked, she joked. He wasn’t sure why she’d let her guard down, but he didn’t care.

Their relationship might’ve been moving backward, but at least it involved communication now. So what if they shared amazing sexual chemistry? He couldn’t afford to continue down that road whether he wanted to or not, and really, he loved talking to her and laughing with her just as much as the sex. At least they ran a close second.

When the skies opened up early that morning, he’d never been happier to be rained out. With any other team or any other driver he might’ve been, probably would’ve been, stressed. But he’d never seen a team as cohesive as Grayling Racing. Had never met a driver more focused than Tracey when she sat behind the wheel of her car.

He refused to let the weather act as a bad omen too. He’d been keeping a close eye on Tracey and would continue to until this whole thing ended.

Because of the massive amount of press she’d been getting, she spent the morning doing interviews for various news shows in one of the hotel’s conference rooms. Although she didn’t need makeup to look beautiful, the effect it had on her features was more than stunning. Her smooth skin radiated a healthy glow and the dark liner had her eyes glowing as bright as polished sapphires. But after almost four hours of answering mostly the same questions, Tracey looked ready to blow.

Mac was completely pumped with the surprise he had planned. When the last interview wrapped up, Tracey shot out of her seat with bullet speed, but the instant grimace on her features and the immediate limp in her step told him she was fighting some serious pain. Mac linked his arm around hers and guided her toward the door.

“Whatever you have planned, Mac, it’s got to wait,” she said, yanking out of his grasp. “If I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to be in a bad mood.
Really bad.
”

This wasn’t a bad mood now? “Good.”

“Good?” Tracey shot back. “You
want
me to be in a bad mood?”

“No. I want you to be hungry.” He took her hand and led her outside where the valet had his newest rental waiting and tossed him the keys. Mac opened the passenger door for Tracey. “Get in,” he said.

Instead, Tracey set her hands on her hips. “Mac, what the hell is going on?”

“Just get in. Trust me on this, will you?” He raised a hand over his heart. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

On a sigh, Tracey got in the car and Mac closed her door. The first part was over, but not the toughest. After he sat behind the wheel he handed Tracey a blue Grayling Racing bandana.

“What’s this for?” she asked.

“Cover your eyes.”

“Do
what?
I’ve got a frickin’ stalker after me and you want me to cover my eyes?”

Okay, that was a little loud, but he pressed on anyway. “C’mon…you’re safe with me. This isn’t a bad thing, I promise. Put it on. In seven minutes you can take it off.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “C’mon,” he coaxed. “It won’t be a surprise otherwise.”

“Who told you I liked surprises?” she muttered. “Because they were wrong.” But she placed the bandana over her eyes and tied it around her head. “I’m warning you, Mac. If you don’t get me some food fast, I won’t be accountable for what happens in the very near future.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second.” Which was why he stepped on the gas a little harder than he should have. The rain was coming down in a thick drizzle. Hard enough to make practice impossible. A few minutes later his destination came into view. The small establishment served its guests via a counter with the menu high overhead. A few picnic tables with green awnings sat outside, empty in the current weather. Mac parked and cut the engine. “We’re here,” he said, “you can take off the—” She already had.

“Oh my God,” she said softly.

Hot dogs. On a grill. Mac took a deep breath, his mouth already watering.

The wide-eyed expression on Tracey’s face was enough to put a grin on his. Score. “Hot dogs,” she said, turning to Mac. Then she looked at the sign over the stand-alone building. “Der Big Weiner,” she said with one eyebrow cocked high. “Are you serious?”

Mac laughed. “Don’t let the name fool you. This place has the best dogs in the city.”

“At this point, I’d eat them even if they were the worst. I’m starving.” She opened the door and dashed into the tiny restaurant, her limp still pronounced.

It had been years since Mac had been here and he’d called first to make sure the place still existed. It was rundown and needed a paint job. Hopefully the food tasted as good as it used to.

Following on her heels, Mac stepped inside and stamped off the rain. Since they’d missed the lunch crush, they could order immediately. Mac went first.

Tracey looked at the menu overhead. “I’ll have one number one hold the sauerkraut and one number three,” she said.

“You know the number threes are chili cheese dogs,” Mac told her, glancing at the two big men who entered and stood in line behind them.

“Yes, believe it or not, I learned to read a long time ago,” Tracey said dryly. She took a look at the men too, and Mac felt her tension.

He hadn’t noticed them following the car and doubted they were trouble. “I just meant that they’re kind of hot, and how can you call yourself a hot dog lover if you don’t eat sauerkraut?” he kidded, hoping the inane conversation would distract her.

Tracey pointed outside to the empty tables. “I guess you plan on eating al fresco,” she mused aloud.

Mac held his hands out in defense as he eyed the rain-soaked benches. Maybe teasing her about her taste in hot dogs wasn’t the best idea, but at least she was teasing him back. “Live and let live I always say.”

“Really,” Tracey countered. “That’s funny. I haven’t heard you say that once.”

“I was saving it.”

Her laugh cut straight to Mac’s heart and made him realize how seldom he heard the sound. It also made him want to hear more, a lot more often.

Her smile faded as she took another quick look at the men, then glanced at Mac. He hated that they’d both become suspicious of everyone.

Once they had their food, they settled in a small back booth. Tracey kept a sharp eye on the other customers as she dove into her lunch with the kind of gusto he expected from a football player. For a little thing, she could eat. She didn’t come up for air until she was almost through with her chili cheese dog. And those suckers were big. After taking a long sip of her large lemonade, she finally looked at him.

“What?”

“What?” Mac lifted a brow. “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you’re staring.”

Caught. For a minute he’d been dreaming about being that hot dog. Being devoured by Tracey. “I was just wondering what you thought of it? The dog,” he said with a quick flick of his finger toward her lunch.

“I’ll tell you after my next bite,” she said, taking another hit off her drink.

Mac glanced at the men on the other side of the restaurant minding their own business. “You’ve already sucked down most of it.” He checked his watch. “In record time, I might add. Do you do anything slowly?”

A reluctant grin spread across her lips. “Not very often.” She stood. “Can you excuse me one minute? I’ll be right back.” Instead of going toward the ladies room, Tracey walked outside, pulled out her new cell phone, punched some numbers and paced under the awning as she listened. Both men rose from their table and headed outside. Mac’s adrenaline pumped as he stood. The men went straight to their car and Mac saw Tracey frozen by the window. She flipped her phone closed and limped back to the table a few minutes later.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She sat down. They shared a silent moment, but Tracey, being Tracey, didn’t mention that anything scared her. “I needed to check my answering machine at home. Not important.” She took a bite out of her hot dog. Then another. A bit of chili clung to the corner of her mouth and Mac wanted to lick it off. Her pink tongue darted out and took it instead.

He stared at her lips, wanted to kiss her so bad that his stomach clenched. He knew exactly how she’d taste too. Hot and spicy, just like the chili.

“I was talking about your leg,” he said, forcing his gaze back to his own hot dog and his mind back to the conversation. He’d bet money she was taking the time to stretch her leg and used the excuse to check her messages as a cover. “You’re in some serious pain today. What gives?”

Tracey swallowed and shrugged. “It’s a combination of sitting for so long and the rain. I can take one or the other for a certain amount of time, but give me both and my leg tends to protest.”

“You should’ve told me. We could’ve made sure you had a break during those interviews.”

“I wanted to get them over with. I didn’t realize there was four hours’ worth. I was expecting half that.” Another two bites later, she finished off her first dog. Then she dug into the pocket of her cargo pants, pulled out a small plastic container, and dropped a few pills into her palm. Tracey had assured him they were only aspirin, but the fact that she needed them other than to drive told Mac all he needed to know.

“How much longer you think you can go before you can’t race anymore?”

She froze before her laser-blue eyes met his gaze. “Pretty ballsy question, Mac.”

“Look.” He was an ass for making such an offhanded remark. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that come out so…”

“Harsh?” Tracey asked.

“Yeah. Harsh.” Mac took a big bite out of his last dog before he said something else really stupid.

“It’s a fair question,” she said and tossed back the pills with a lemonade chaser.

“You’re only saying that because you got some food in your stomach. If I’d asked it on the way over here, you’d have killed me and stuffed my body in the trunk before we got in the door.”

She laughed again and nearly spit out her drink. Mac couldn’t help but grin back. He really loved the sound of her laughter and he got the feeling it wasn’t something she did often. Man, did he want to change that.

“So what made you ask?” She took another bite of her lunch.

“You’ve been racing almost a year, now,” he said. “I’m guessing the pain isn’t getting any better. In fact, if I had to guess again, I’d say it’s getting worse. There’s going to come a time when you won’t be able to sit behind the wheel for three or four hours at a time.”

Instead of denying it, Tracey smiled sadly and shrugged a shoulder. “I want to open a race school.” Her eyes widened for second and she made a point of staring at her second hot dog. She took a bite as though she hadn’t said something extremely important.

“That’s great,” Mac said quietly. Ed had told him that during her rehab, she’d earned a business degree. “What made you think about doing that?”

After a resigned sigh and a little stretch, Tracey eyed him. “I guess it was the natural order of things. I want other kids out there, male and female, to know that no matter where they come from or what their background is, they can do anything they want as long as they want it badly enough.”

She’d nailed his problem in one simple sentence. Maybe he hadn’t wanted it badly enough. Sure, he’d loved driving and he’d been good at it, but the risk hadn’t been worth it. He’d figured out damn fast how fragile life was and how lucky he’d been. He saw no reason to tempt fate any further. But he didn’t want to think about himself—he wanted to find out more about her. “Sounds as though you’re catering to a very specific age group. Isn’t that going to limit your enrollment?”

With challenging eyes, she met his gaze. “It’s not only for kids wanting to start in the sport. I’ll offer a monthly one-, two-or three-day intensive workshop for adults.”

Her determination astounded him further. The fact that she had the guts to admit her racing years weren’t going to last as long as the average driver and that she’d made plans for a life afterward impressed him. “Seems like you’ve thought it out.” Or had she? “You know, opening a school’s going to cost you a fortune.”

“I’ve got investors.”

“Need any more? Investors, I mean?” Mac asked.

“What I need is a scholarship fund. I want to help a few underprivileged kids like Ed helped me, but I need a fund first. Why? Are you offering?” A quirky grin spread across her lips and her brows pressed together. “Of course, I don’t know that I need money bad enough to include you.”

“Ouch,” Mac groused. “That hurt. Are you telling me that if I offered you…I don’t know…a hundred thousand dollars…you’d turn it down strictly because it came from me?”

Her mouth opened wide. Almost as wide as her eyes.

“And after buying you two of the best hot dogs in town,” he added.

“A hundred thousand dollars,” she muttered. “Are you seriously telling me that you’d open a scholarship fund for my race school with that much money?”

“Why not?” He could already envision the fire in her eyes as she taught the basics of the sport. Her determination to win was no less than contagious.

“Well, for starters, all my other investors are silent partners. I can’t imagine that you’d be silent.”

“I didn’t say I would be.” Mac loved the sparkle of indecision in her eyes. The fact that she had to weigh the options so carefully before taking his money. Money he hadn’t planned on investing anywhere. Ah, shit. What the hell had he gotten himself into this time? And why?

“What makes you think I’d want you to be a part of my school if we can barely communicate as it is?”

Mac glanced at her. “What do you mean? I think we’re communicating fine right now.”

“But we don’t when it comes to going around the track.”

“Sure we do,” Mac countered. “We both want you to go around the track as fast as you possibly can without wrecking the car. No argument about that.”

By the looks of it, he’d stunned her silent. A definite first. He was on a roll when it came to firsts with this woman. He’d let her think on the money.

“So…how’s the dogs?” he asked.