The Comeback (17 page)

Though lately, it had felt like more of a burden. These days, whenever his Dad or Granddad launched into their spiel about the duties of a NASCAR driver, Ryan felt increasingly as if his racing career was part of a long Thorne tradition that he’d been raised to fulfill rather than something he wanted to do for himself.

He took a long swig of his beer. “I love NASCAR, there’s nothing else I want to do.”

Amber blinked. “Where did that come from?”

He gave his head a sharp shake to clear it. “Sorry, just thinking aloud.” When she didn’t move on, he said, “I was thinking that this year, I’ve been feeling kind of tied down by my racing.”

“Is that so bad? You
should
feel tied to what you love,” she said.

Ryan shrugged. Was she talking about racing or him and her? Because they definitely weren’t at the
love
stage. He kept it casual and said, “You’re right, Dad would say racing is all about driving but it’s also all about meeting expectations. Your team’s, your sponsors’, your fans’.” He thought about that. “I have to admit, sometimes I wonder where the passion fits into all that.”

“Surely passion dictates the choices you make.”

“I guess,” he said.

“Or maybe you’re a guy who doesn’t make a lot of conscious choices. Maybe you go with the flow.” Amber’s eyes were unreadable as she sipped her beer. Had she meant that last comment as an insult?

Man, she could be hard work. Ryan sighed. Maybe he should find someone less complicated for his fling. Then he looked at her mouth, heard the musical tones of her voice and knew that, for a while at least, it had to be this woman.

A
MBER WAS DRINKING HER
beer way too fast, fortifying herself to ask Ryan exactly what he was up to.

Maybe he was on the level. By Brady’s own admission, Ryan had behaved himself this season. At his age he’d be maturing every year…and everyone had things in their past they weren’t proud of. If he’d changed…She realized how much she wanted him to have changed. Her head buzzed.

“Passion is the opposite of opportunism,” she said. “If there’s something you really want, you’ll make the right choices, and you won’t let obstacles stand in your way.”

Unlike Julie-Anne, who had allowed obstacles to keep her and Amber apart.
Don’t go there. It’s too hard.
She hadn’t seen her mom since their argument, and Brady’s manner when he’d run in to her at team headquarters had been cool. She’d seen in his clamped jaw the desire to berate her, but she guessed Julie-Anne had forbidden him to interfere.

Amber forced a smile at Ryan. “And if you’re following your passion, being tied down would feel good.”

He reached across the table and held her hand. “You older women are pretty smart.”

She shivered as his thumb found her pulse and caressed the spot in lazy circles. He was so darned sexy, she could scarcely think.

Ask him now. Before you chicken out.

“Ryan…” She clutched his fingers. “What do you want from me?”

“What do I want?” His blue eyes darkened to cobalt as his gaze wandered her face, her shoulders. A wave of intense heat swept Amber.

“I want you to have dinner with me after qualifying in Montreal,” he said. “A serious dinner, where we get dressed up and I pick you up from your hotel.”

It wasn’t quite what she’d expected, but it was a start. “Dinner might be a possibility,” she said. She wanted to ask,
What else?

He picked up on her expectancy; he grinned, and leaned
forward across the table. “Maybe I should tell you that I have more than just dinner in mind.”

She drew in a breath as he ran his thumb over her knuckles.

“After dinner in Montreal,” he said, “I want you in my arms. I want to make love with you.”

“I—me, too,” she said, flustered at his bluntness even though it mirrored her own style.

“You make me feel free.” He grinned. “And easy.”

Free was good. Easy…not so good. It wasn’t exactly the word she’d hoped to hear in the context of increased intimacy with him. Amber drew back, but Ryan held fast to her hand. She let out a calming breath and said, “But I don’t want either of us to go into this with the wrong expectations.”

“I totally respect you for saying that,” he said.

He did?

“Believe me, sweetheart, we’re on the same page.” Ryan brought her hand to his mouth and nipped her knuckle. Desire shot through Amber, the sensation so strong, she almost dissolved. “We’ll make love soon,” he said and she almost screamed with frustration that it wasn’t going to happen
right now.
“No strings,” he promised. “I won’t hold you to anything.”

No…strings? An alarm clanged inside Amber. “What do you mean?”

He nipped another knuckle. Somehow, she forced herself to concentrate. “I respect that you don’t want to get seriously involved with anyone in NASCAR.” He laughed. “Hell, sometimes I think it’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m the same, I don’t want a serious involvement.”

“With someone in NASCAR?” she asked, confused.

“With anyone. That’s why we’ll be perfect together.”

Perfect
flew out the window, to be replaced with
second-rate. Shoddy.
Amber felt as if her heart was being squeezed all over again, just has it had been when she’d argued with her mom. “Let me get this straight. You’re suggesting we
have sex—” she wasn’t about to dignify his suggestion by calling it making love “—but we won’t be involved?”

“Don’t think I’m suggesting a one-night stand,” he said, picking up on her tone. “No way.”

“A two-night stand?” she asked.

His eyes narrowed. “I want to make love with you. More than once. A lot. I know you want it, too.”

“What if I tell you I want involvement?” she said. “A real relationship?” His grasp on her hand slackened, and she withdrew it.

Ryan took a considered swig of his beer. “I would say this is a new development, given you said you don’t date NASCAR guys.” He sounded aggrieved, as if she was changing the rules on him and it wasn’t fair.

Anger exploded inside her, forced Amber to her feet. “Here’s a newsflash for you, buster. NASCAR or no NASCAR, I have
always
wanted a man I can trust and depend on. A man I can love.”

Her outburst was so far outside the realm of his expectations that she’d silenced him.

He groped for words. “But your thing about NASCAR…”

“I don’t have a thing about NASCAR,” she snapped, and realized that although she might have in the past, she was beyond that now. “I have a thing about guys who think women should be grateful for the opportunity to sleep with them, who think they’re so all-fired special that the rules of human decency don’t apply to them.”

She was aware of people at neighboring tables staring at them, but Ryan’s gaze didn’t move from hers. Amber balled her fists. “I’m not dumb enough to fall for a jerk like my father.”

It was the ultimate insult, and he realized it, going by the way his face paled.

“Hey.” His fingers circled her wrist, he tugged her back into her chair. “Before you get hung up on making compari
sons with your dad, let me point out that I never for one moment led you to believe I wanted a serious girlfriend. You know racing is my priority, and that I keep relationships somewhere near the surface. Hell, I’m not proud of that, I don’t think any woman is particularly lucky to have me. But I want you, you want me—I still don’t see the harm.”

Before she could even begin the mammoth task of setting him straight, he continued, “There’s a bigger picture here, but I guess I’m the only one looking at it. I have a dream to pursue, one that’s damned hard, one that a thousand other guys are waiting to snatch if I don’t grab it with both hands.”

“All right then, here’s what I see when I look at the bigger picture.” She leaned across the table. “I see a guy who thinks passion is an invitation to dinner and a roll in the hay.” Her voice filled with contempt, as much for her own naiveté.

“You don’t know the first thing about passion,” she said. “You race a fast car, but the way you’re doing it has nothing to do with passion. Think about why you get behind that wheel each week—because it sure as heck isn’t for yourself.”

Color rose from Ryan’s neck, suffused his face. “Lady, you are way off. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Amber stood, and this time he made no move to stop her. “Grow up, Ryan.”

She stalked out of the bar. Fury carried her as far as the door. Outrage propelled her to her car. Pain had her hunched over her steering wheel, sobbing for something she’d thought she had, but that for her might never exist.

Z
ACK KEPT TO HIMSELF
at Atlanta. He didn’t have much say in the matter, given he wasn’t talking to Gaby, and his family wasn’t talking to him. He confined his conversation to Dave and the rest of the crew. He’d help get the car right, even if everything else was screwed up to hell and back.

I knew all along that my focus had to be on my racing,
he chided himself as he sat in the hauler flicking through the folder of press clippings Gaby had sent over. He’d let himself get distracted by the need to build bridges with his family—big mistake. The only way to do that was to win races.

And he’d let himself get distracted by his feelings for Gaby. An even bigger mistake. Just thinking her name made his heart twist. Dammit, he’d trusted her. When he’d walked into the office at the front of the hauler and found her plotting with his dad and brother, found her suggesting the problems between them were all his fault…he couldn’t remember the last time something hurt so much.

He paused in his scanning to read an article from one of the women’s magazines. The headline:
Zack Wows American Women.
Garbage. Moving on, he found one titled
We Love Zack.
He sighed. The few headlines from the sports media had a very different tone. One respected paper had summed it up with a pithy
The Shortest Comeback in History?

Dammit, how was he supposed to win races when he had to spend half his time on the bachelor contest? Hours spent schmoozing with journalists and fans, while his rivals—his
brother—improved their fitness, or replayed old races to learn from their mistakes.

“How’re you doing?” Brady’s gruff voice interrupted Zack’s thoughts. His dad stepped up behind him.

Zack kept his eyes on the clippings. “Fine.”

Brady cleared his throat. “Good qualifying.”

Zack’s qualifying position—fifteenth—was nearer to okay than good, but he didn’t call his dad on that. He grunted his thanks.

“That meeting the other day,” Brady began awkwardly.

No way did Zack want to talk about that right now, not when he was getting his head into race space. “Dad, I get that you’re mad with me…”

He felt a brief touch of Brady’s hand on his shoulder, then it was gone. Absurdly, Zack felt moisture behind his eyes.

“Not mad,” Brady said.

Zack closed the folder.

“More…sad,” Brady admitted reluctantly. “That this is where we ended up.” He held Zack’s gaze.

“Yeah,” Zack said. “Me, too.” He waited for his father to suggest a way out of this mess. To say that things didn’t always have to be this way.

Brady didn’t say anything.

“How are you getting along with Amber?” Zack asked.

Brady grimaced. “I like her, though she’s giving Julie-Anne enough grief for ten daughters.”

Zack wondered if his dad
liked
him. Loved him, yes. But like…

Brady cleared his throat. “Well.” He jerked a nod at the press clippings. “Guess I’d better leave you to your work.”

Something inside Zack shriveled and withered. Things would always be this way, he realized. They would never get any better. He’d been naive to imagine they could. He swallowed. “Yeah.”

He opened the folder.

“Gaby…” Brady said awkwardly.

Zack didn’t look up. “What about her?”

“She cares a lot about you,” Brady said. “She took a risk coming to see me and Chad.”

“She betrayed my confidence.”

Brady grabbed the folder from the table, startling Zack. “Dad?”

Brady puffed out his cheeks. “We might not be much good at this family stuff, but maybe you could do things differently with her.”

As if Gaby was some kind of consolation prize.

“Things aren’t so hot between us right now,” Zack said.

“I get the feeling she’d do anything for you. That’s a big deal.” Brady dropped the folder back on the table.

As his father left, his words replayed through Zack’s head. He was surprised to find a tendril of hope unfurling.

Of all the things he’d lost in the past few days, the loss of Gaby hurt the most. If his dad was right…his pulse quickened at the thought. Maybe he’d been too hard on her. Maybe he should find out whose side she was really on.

G
ABY KEPT WAITING FOR
Sandra to mention that Chad had complained about Gaby’s conduct. When her boss said nothing, Gaby could only conclude Chad hadn’t said anything. Yet.

She and Sandra had watched the Atlanta race from the Taney Motorsports hospitality suite. Zack had finished fifth, which meant he had a real, though far from certain, chance at making the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup.

“How did Zack end up with eight column inches in this paper, when my client, who happened to win the race, only got five?” Sandra grumbled good-naturedly. She dropped the Charlotte newspaper on Gaby’s desk. “Good job.”

“Good enough to get me promoted?” Gaby said automatically. Richmond, and Sandra’s decision, was just a week away.

“Quite possibly.” Sandra patted Gaby on the shoulder—maternal gestures seemed to come naturally to her these days—then left to talk to Kylie.

Gaby processed Sandra’s words every which way and came to the same conclusion every time: she wasn’t just a contender for the job, she was a
strong
contender. As long as Chad didn’t blab to Sandra—perhaps he’d decided he didn’t come out of it looking too good himself so it was, therefore, best to keep quiet—the security Gaby longed for was within her grasp.

She should be ecstatic. But instead of bubbles of euphoria, there was only a quiet trickle of relief, and the fizz in the pit of her stomach was decidedly flat.

I miss Zack.

“Hi,” Zack said from her doorway.

She squawked, waking up a cloud of butterflies somewhere inside her. “I was just—what are you doing here?”

He closed the door behind him and came to perch on the edge of her desk. “Apologizing.”

“Oh.” She drew back in surprise.

“You need to watch those one-syllable words,” he warned her.

“Sorry,” she said automatically.

“Now you’re stealing my word,” he chided.

Gaby shook her head, bemused. What did he have to be so lighthearted about?

“I’m sorry I overreacted when I overheard you talking to my father and Chad,” he said. “I was a jerk.”

Gaby pulled her thoughts together. “I shouldn’t have barged in without consulting you first. I just got riled up.”

“On my behalf.” His voice held a tender note that made her heart seize.

She nodded. “You’ve put so much work into your family, it’s time they did their share.”

“You’re starting to sound like me,” he said, amused.

She groaned. “Shoot me now.”

Chuckling, Zack came around to her side of the desk.
When he held out his hands, Gaby let him pull her to her feet. “I missed you,” he murmured, very close to her lips.

“Me, too,” she breathed, one eye on the door of her office. At least she knew that Motor Media staff were polite enough to knock when they encountered a closed door….

Then he kissed her.

It was like coming home, Gaby thought, as she wrapped her arms around Zack, pressed her body to his. His wonderful, strong hands holding her, his mouth exploring, seeking, finding. The buildup of unmistakable heat.
Oh, yes, I want this. Forever.

She put all her love into the kiss, gave to him from the deepest part of her soul. The embrace then took on a new urgency, his caresses grew more intimate. When they broke apart, Zack ran a shaky hand through his hair.

“Wow,” he said. Gaby nodded; she couldn’t trust herself to speak. He wrapped his arms around her again, loosely this time, and rested his chin on her head. “Gaby…”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks for being on my side through all this.”

She pulled away to look up at him. “Of course I’m on your side.”

He dropped a kiss on her nose. “I know things are at an impasse with Dad and the guys just now, but I couldn’t have gotten as far as I have the past few weeks without you.”

Gaby blinked away sudden emotion.

“Surprisingly enough I think I can get my head clear enough of all the crap that’s been going on, and race well at Richmond.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help,” she said eagerly.

He paused. “As a matter of fact…”

“What is it?”

“There are two bachelor events in Richmond,” he said.

“The televised reader party and the interview with Olivia Winton,” she agreed.

“It’s on race day,” he said. “The interview.”

She grimaced. “I know, it’s a pain. But Olivia’s the most popular breakfast host in America.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “That interview could mean the difference between winning and losing the Bachelor of the Year. The organizers expect most viewers to text their votes Friday night, after the reader party. The interview next morning will give them a chance to vote again, and will pick up any stragglers.”

“I just don’t see how I can attend those events and still race well,” he said. “The two races I’ve had a decent finish in recently—Pocono and Atlanta—were the ones with no bachelor events.”

“That’s coincidence,” Gaby said, uneasy. “Besides, you won at Watkins Glen after a bachelor party.”

“I always do well at the Glen.”

She stepped out of his embrace. “Zack, the editor of
Now Woman
told me in confidence that, based on the votes they’ve received so far, you’re neck and neck with Garrett Clark to win the contest.”

His jaw dropped. “Really?”

“If you don’t do the Richmond events, you’re handing the bachelor title to Garrett. There’s no way he won’t show up, the guy’s a publicity hog.”

Unlike Zack, Garrett was also a shoo-in for the Chase.

“I have one last shot at making the Chase,” Zack said. “I need to give it everything. If I make the Chase, Getaway won’t give a damn about the bachelor contest.”

“If.”
Gaby let the loaded word sit between them, and tamped down the panic flaring inside her.

“I can do it.”

“I believe you.”

“Then let me pull out of the bachelor events.”

Gaby gripped the edge of her desk. “That won’t guarantee you’ll make the Chase. There are seventeen drivers with enough points to have a shot at a top-twelve ranking. You can
focus as much as you want, but it won’t stop some guy crashing into you in his panic to get to the front.”

“It’s a risk,” he agreed.

“If you miss out on both the Chase and the bachelor contest, Getaway will feel they have nowhere to go with this sponsorship.” He stiffened, but she continued, “They’ll pull their money, your season will be over. And with it, the ongoing relationship that being part of the team gives you with your family.”

She tugged her blouse to straighten it where it had twisted during the kiss. “The bachelor contest is the safest bet. Getaway has a lot of faith in you—they’re planning a huge ad campaign around you being Bachelor of the Year.”

“Because they assume I won’t make the Chase,” he said, unimpressed. “Gaby, please, stand by me on this, ask Getaway to release me from the bachelor contest this weekend.”

When he looked at her with that compelling combination of heat and hope in his eyes, she wanted more than anything to ease the tense lines around his mouth, take him in her arms, tell him she loved him. She’d do anything for him.

Gaby wondered if she could talk to Getaway, convince them Zack’s best shot was to focus on the race, and that the bachelor events risked derailing him. Instead of sending him to the events at Richmond, Motor Media could maybe release a prerecorded interview with Zack this week, outside of the official events, but one that would get plenty of coverage and would convince women to vote for him in the contest….

“I don’t know,” she hedged, fretting.

Zack took her hands. “Gaby…I love you.”

It took a second for the words to penetrate her anxiety. Her head snapped up.
“What?”

“You heard me.” He squeezed her fingers.

“You
love
me?”

“I—yeah. Seems that way.” He sounded dazed.

She laughed, delight filtering through the tension, dissolving it. Zack’s smile in response was gorgeously slow and sexy.

“So…do you love me, too?” he asked.

Something in his inflection, some air of expectancy, triggered a painful memory. If she answered yes, would Zack’s next sentence start with
then?
As in,
Then you’ll help me get out of the bachelor events at Richmond, right?

Her chest constricted. Her fiancé had considered “I love you” to be a negotiating tool, and he’d said it with the same anticipatory tone.

“When did you realize you loved me?” she asked Zack, her voice a little sharp.

He pulled away. “Just now, I guess. I knew I cared for you, but I didn’t realize how much.”

“You’ve been mad at me, too mad to talk to me, and now you love me?”

“I apologized for that,” he said, confused.

“And now that you want me to get you out of the bachelor events, you’ve decided you love me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t be stupid,” he said.

Oh, yeah, that was how a man spoke to the woman he loved, all right.

Gaby couldn’t believe it. Once again, a man had asked her to risk her career, her ambitions, because he loved her. What was the bet that if she convinced Getaway to lighten up, and then Zack didn’t make the Chase, that Gaby would miss out on her promotion? She could even lose her job, when it came out that she’d acted in Zack’s interest rather than Getaway’s.

She felt sick. And, to use Zack’s word, stupid.

“What’s stupid,” she said, “is that you think I should risk my entire career because you don’t want to attend a party and do an interview.”

His face darkened. “Whereas you think I should risk
my
entire career just to go to that party and take part in that interview.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I love you, dammit. And if you love me, you’ll take my side in this.”

Bingo.

If Zack really did love her, she’d be the happiest woman on the planet. Not feeling as if he was holding a prize just out of her reach, waiting for her to prove her worthiness.