Chapter 12

 

After his run the next morning, Harry headed for the donut shop. The little blonde wasn’t anything special. Seeing her in the clear light of day, instead of last night’s torrid dreams, would end this foolishness.

He stopped just inside the door. She wasn’t there. Her plump co-worker from yesterday grinned at him. “Good morning.”

Harry dug up his public smile and approached the counter. He’d look like a fool, asking for Gina. This older clerk, Brenda by her nametag, was alone. Maybe Gina was in the back. And if it were her day off, he could come back tomorrow.

Brenda leaned forward. “Welcome back, Mr. Silver. I didn’t want to say it when the other customers could hear. And good luck in the race on Sunday.” She’d gone pink, too. Women.

“Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.”

“What can I get you?”

“Apple juice please, and—” he scanned the muffin bins. “One of those fruit jumble ones looks good. Cold, please, with strawberry jam.” No need to draw things out like he had yesterday with Gina.

He paid, and Brenda assembled his order with care. “You’re careful with what you eat. That’s good.” She leaned nearer again. “Check the ingredient list on our website. These muffins have as much fat as the donuts.”

“Good to know. Thanks.” He put a few coins on the counter and headed for the same table he’d used yesterday. He’d been too addled to remember a tip last time. What had Gina thought of that?

Harry checked his watch. He had cut his run short to have a little longer here if needed. Good thing. He raised the bottle of juice to his lips for the barest sip, and waited. The electricity sparking in his system felt a lot like race day, in the cockpit, waiting for the starter’s signal.

This was crazy. As soon as he saw the real Gina, the ordinary teenager and not the hot siren of his dreams, he’d be fine. He could get on with the day. She’s just a cute kid, Silver. You’ll see.

He swallowed some more juice, and set the bottle down as the door behind the counter opened. Gina walked in with a tray of fresh muffins. Energy shot through him, a golden stream, too hot for his body to hold but he needed more.

Brenda pointed him out, and Gina gave a shy little wave. He remembered to breathe, and raised his glass in a surprisingly steady salute.

Crazy. Whatever this girl had, it pushed all the right buttons.

He peeled the paper from his muffin, keeping her in easy view. He wanted her so badly. But he wanted her his way, like the glossy images that fed his fantasies. It wasn’t going to happen. He set the muffin back on its paper and twirled it slowly.

Just thinking about Gina had given him an edge in practice yesterday. If she wanted to creep into his imagination, maybe he should let her.

He broke off an edge of muffin and popped it into his mouth. Why not watch her, mentally stalk her, play it as a game? Let the thrill fire him for the race. She’d never know, and it would give him extra brilliance on the track. Of course he would never touch her, but there was no law against daydreaming.

Rule one: don’t give yourself away. He turned in his seat so she was only visible from the corner of his eye. He’d keep track of her movements, but concentrate on listening. After all, her image was already burned into his retinas.

He had about ten more minutes before he had to leave, so he picked at his muffin and listened to the cadence of her voice as she served customers.

A dark-haired girl came into the shop, and Gina called out, “Hey, stranger. Welcome back.”

The newcomer headed for Gina’s cash register. “I hoped you’d be working today. Is Jay around for the summer? Oh, and could I have a medium double-double?”

Gina’s laugh made Harry’s scalp tingle. “You still crushing on my brother? Yeah, he’s home, doing landscaping for the summer. He’s putting in long hours, since he’s not with you-know-who anymore, but I think he’s coming to my game tonight, if you wanted to show up to watch.”

“Text me the field and time?”

“Sure. Here’s your coffee.”

The dark-haired girl rooted in her purse. “I want to see your new puppy sometime, too. The pictures you posted on Facebook are adorable.” She paid and picked up her cup. “Thanks. See you tonight.”

Harry finished his apple juice and crumpled the muffin paper. He had to go, too. He paused near the counter. “Thanks, ladies. Have a good one.”

They both smiled and blushed. He held Gina’s gaze for an extra second, just for the thrill.

Sifting it through on the drive back to Vancouver, he thought this first day was a failure. So she had a brother. A puppy. He wasn’t doing a character sketch of the girl, for Pete’s sake. He needed useful information—her shift times, where she parked her car, where to find her alone.

Tomorrow he’d do better, make conversation, see what he could discover. He’d have to be discreet. He didn’t want her spilling her guts to some gossip columnist about an imaginary infatuation.

Next morning he leaned against the stainless steel counter while Brenda rang in his order. “Cranberry juice today, please, and a yogurt. Thanks for the heads-up on the muffins.”

She smiled and took his money, then set his snack on the tray. “You’re welcome. I hear racing drivers need to be a lot fitter than people think.”

“I’m impressed. Not many people know that.” He had to flirt equally with both of them, keep it light. Fantasy game aside, he didn’t want to let on how deeply Gina attracted him. He’d be gone in a few days. Why get her hopes up?

There was nobody in line behind him. He slid the tray nearer but didn’t pick it up. “You know, I can tell a lot about a woman by the kind of car she drives. What’s your ride?”

Brenda glanced at the polished countertop and then back at Harry. “I sling coffee for a living. That buys me a beat-up old Escort. But I’d love one of the new Camaros. Black, of course.”

Harry let out a slow whistle. “Impressed again.” He glanced at Gina, walking toward them with an empty tray. “What about you?”

She pinked like she always did when he talked to her. “Me what?”

Brenda chuckled. “He has this theory about women and cars. What do you drive?”

Gina shrugged. “My parents’ Subaru, when I can get it. Usually it’s feet or bus.”

Harry frowned a bit as if her words troubled him. “Hey, is it safe to use transit for this job? You probably come in awfully early.”

“It’s fine. The stop’s just around the corner, and it’s well-lit. This is a safe area.”

“You can’t be too careful.” The bell over the door jingled, and Harry picked up his tray to make room for a trio of teen boys in old t-shirts and scraggy jeans.

He nursed his drink and listened for Gina’s voice. She must have gone into the back again, but after a few minutes one of the boys asked, “Gina, you up for the beach later today? We’re only working till noon.”

Harry spooned some yogurt and pretended not to care. After a minute she said, “Thursday’d be better, or Friday. I’ll be off.”

The boy snorted. “Boss’ll likely have us working all day. We’re almost done with this job, and he’s got a new roof lined up for tomorrow.”

“Well, okay. Pick me up at home?”

“Sure. Don’t work too hard.” The boy raised his cup in salute, and the three walked out. Harry watched them climb into a heavy pickup with ladders on the back.

Harry waited for a break in customer traffic before getting up to leave. He paused at the counter. “Thanks again. I hope it doesn’t get too busy with just the two of you.”

Brenda measured fresh coffee into a row of filters. “We get ready ahead of the rush, and we have another girl join us in about half an hour. It’s not too bad.”

Gina covered a yawn. “And I only have to stay until nine. Brenda’s full-time, so she’s here till noon.”

Harry fought back a triumphant grin. This girl volunteered way too much information. Her parents should be worried. Nine o’clock... he’d check the bus schedules when he got home. Hopefully there weren’t too many routes at that stop.

He checked his watch. “Time for me to get back to town and start my workday. It’s a rough life. See you tomorrow.”

So Thursday and Friday were Gina’s days off. Harry went each day anyway. He needed the snack to replenish from his run, and he needed to keep up the banter with Brenda. That’s what he’d do if he were stalking Gina for real. It made this game of make-believe a little more exciting, to pretend it was real.

Those visits dragged, though. The counter staff’s casual chatter jarred his ears. He tuned them out and dreamed of Gina, and his plans for her. He’d chosen Monday as his mental target date, to let his fantasies energize his race weekend. Gina would be working both days, and he’d drive with extra fire in his veins.

Race day, Sunday, dawned overcast and threatened rain, but by the time the cars were on the starting grid the sun had burned through. Harry blazed around the narrow street circuit, holding the lead until his first pit stop. Now he had six places to claw back, all held by top drivers fighting for position. They’d have to stop too, but he couldn’t wait. This was what he lived for—the energy, the challenge.

Today, he also had Gina. His mind had no room for the stalking game in the middle of the race, but he’d seen her before coming to the track and the electricity still danced under his skin.

Relentless, merciless and slick, he found or made passing opportunities and re-took first place. The competition was too tight to let him pull out a comfortable lead, but that made it a better race.

With only nine laps of eighty-five remaining, Harry made his final stop and clinched the win, barring mechanical failure. He loved this, when victory was in the bag, and all he had to do was take it.

The radio crackled an update. “Harry, the pace car’s been deployed. There’s a three-car tangle in the middle of the pack.”

“Thanks.” He breathed in through his nose, held for a five-count, and released his frustration. They’d been lucky so far. This tight, concrete-walled course was notoriously crash prone, but the fans loved the street circuits. He loved them too—the extra challenges added more to the game.

A game he planned to win, to impress a certain blond coffee clerk. Not that she’d be here in the high-price seats, but he knew she’d check out the results. Maybe see coverage of the final lap. He wanted to deliver a dramatic finish, not be led over the line by the pace car with the others all bunched up behind.

The modified street car, roof lights flashing, pulled onto the track, and Harry slid into place behind it. The line of racers snaked around the track at reduced speed, picking their way through the crash site a few corners later.

Harry grimaced. One of the cars had already been removed, and as he passed he saw the second being winched away by a huge crane. The third lay sideways, barely off the racing line. Pieces of splintered chassis littered the track, but those were avoidable. Danger came from what he couldn’t see—tiny shards of carbon-fiber that could shred his tires.

He felt it on the next corner. A slight pull to the left, the steering a bit heavy. Harry pushed down his irritation and radioed for fresh tires. As much as it burned to pull into the pit lane now, he couldn’t make it to the end with a puncture. Not if the pace car left the track and they finished at racing speed. The tire rubber would de-laminate in long strips and flail his chassis to bits.

The team had the new tire on in seconds. They didn’t add fuel—no need—but one of the mechanics wiped Harry’s visor with a cloth. Released, his fight began. He took it slow out of the pit lane until he reached the track. If enough others had to pit too, if the pace car released them with enough laps remaining for him to do something, he’d nail this yet.

There was the signal. Final lap before the pace car left the track. Harry’s gloved fingers clenched the steering wheel and he consciously loosened them, listening to the team’s update. Of the thirteen cars remaining, half had come in for tires or a last-minute fuel splash-and-dash. He’d been the first, which put the others behind him now.

With the pace car gone, racing resumed in earnest. Harry felt the rush as he opened the throttle, but it wasn’t strong enough to gain a win. He needed an edge. He let fantasies of Gina creep onto the edge of his thoughts. If this victory would be sweet, it was nothing to what he’d imagined for tomorrow.

The surge of energy caught him off-guard and he jerked the wheel. He fought the car back onto the racing line and set his sights on his first target.

Five laps to go, and six cars ahead. Harry monstered through the field. By the end of the lap he’d taken two of them and was all over the back of the next one. He wanted this win, wanted it so badly he could taste it. And he wanted tomorrow with Gina even more.

He kept up the pressure until the driver ahead of him made a mistake. One was all it took. Harry shouldered past and lined up the next car. He bulled his way into second, then into the lead with two corners left. As he crossed the finish line, punching the air, he saw the grandstand crowd on its feet.

When he pulled off his helmet and stepped out of the car they were still cheering. Harry grinned and made his way to the podium, ignoring the scowls of the drivers who’d come in second and third.

The second-place driver clapped him on the back and pulled him into a one-armed hug. Heads close so the press couldn’t hear their words, he hissed, “That was a dirty move you pulled on me, Silver. Don’t try it again.”

Harry flashed him a best-buddy smile for the cameras. “I kept it clean.”

“Barely.”

“Enough to satisfy the racing stewards. And the fans. Better luck next time.”

Harry stepped into the winner’s spot on the podium, turned and spread his arms wide to the cheering crowd. He stood tall for the national anthem and accepted his trophy with a flourish.

After the post-race speeches and activities, his manager pulled him aside. “Join us for the celebration? It’d mean a lot to the guys. They worked hard for this, and you brought it home in style.”

Harry flashed a crooked smile. “I poured it all out on the track. Need some down time. They did great, though. Thank them for me.”

The man shrugged. “Sure, I’ll tell them. Sometimes I worry about you, Harry.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I’m just focused.” Right. That’s why he had this unfamiliar letdown inside. Focus.

Back at the hotel, Harry showered and changed into lightweight trousers and a golf shirt. Maybe he should go party with the guys, to take his mind off this sense of loss. He reached for his keys, then dropped them back on the desk. He didn’t feel up to faking the enthusiasm they’d expect.

Harry flopped into a chair by the window and stared out at the passing cars. So the race was over. The season went on. Tomorrow the mechanics would start the move to the next circuit. He had a day to rest, then he’d pull out on Tuesday to join them.

It was standard routine after a race. It’d never bothered him before. There was always the next one to gear up for.

But he’d been gearing up for something else... dreaming, scheming about getting Gina alone. The thrill of the hunt had carried him all week, and now what?

He pulled his laptop from the room safe and cued his newest porn download, mentally superimposing Gina’s face, but that made it worse. When the video ended he stared at the blank screen.

This wasn’t a game anymore. How could he leave her unclaimed?

He snapped the laptop shut. Look at him, mooning like a love-struck teen over a girl he hardly knew.

Grow up, Silver. He went to bed, but it took a long time to get to sleep.

It was after eight o’clock when he woke the next morning. The bed was a wreck, sheets twisted around him. His eyes felt as if they’d been rolled in burning sand. Groaning, he flopped over onto his stomach, face away from the window’s glow.

Ordinarily he would have traded the morning run for a few lengths of the hotel pool on the day after a race. Today he’d just go back to sleep.

He closed his eyes, remembering Gina’s long blond hair, her blue eyes. He hadn’t expected to see her again, but why not? Why not carry on with his game, try to get her to take that walk on the beach? He’d never harm her, but he could live his dream a little longer.

Harry jumped out of bed. He’d have to hurry if he was going to intercept her before she caught the bus at nine-fifteen. Adrenaline shot through him, waking him better than a jolt of caffeine. He dropped the soap three times in the shower and nicked his chin shaving.

He threw on casual clothes and gave the suite a once-over. His password-protected laptop was shut in the room safe, and the magazines safely locked in a suitcase. No point giving the cleaning staff any tidbits to feed to the press.

He checked his watch. Almost eight-thirty, and he still had a forty-five minute drive. This was going to be tight. He grabbed a couple of apples from the fruit basket his sponsors had sent. He could eat on the way. He didn’t want a growling stomach on his beach walk with the lovely Gina.

Once out of the downtown core, most of the traffic passed in the opposite direction. Harry fought the urge to speed. If the police pulled him over, he’d miss Gina.

And if he missed her? Or if she didn’t want to take a walk with him? The game was over anyway.

He checked the dashboard clock again as he neared the beach. Nine-oh-five. The beginnings of a tension headache cramped the base of his skull. He rubbed the spot. If she were gone...

Harry reached the donut shop, passed it and turned onto the street where Gina caught the bus. There she was. His relief came out as an audible sigh.

And she was alone. His lucky day.

He pulled up to the curb, shoved coins in the meter and hurried across the street. She waved. Reaching her side, he concentrated on keeping his voice steady. “Hi, Gina.”

“Hi, Mr. Silver. Congratulations on the race.”

He was near enough to touch her, but he resisted. “Call me Harry. Good thing I caught you. I wanted to say thanks. You brought me luck yesterday.” He looked into her lake-blue eyes, allowing his smile to deepen, and stuck out his hand.

She clasped it briefly. “I’m glad... Harry.” She’d taken her hair out of the ponytail and it rippled down her back, a waterfall of light. The pink tint spreading over her cheeks and the shy admiration in her eyes knocked his heart out of rhythm.

Harry waved a hand at his jeans. “I came for a relaxing walk today, not a run. Care to join me?”

Blushing deeper, she checked her watch. “My bus will be here any minute.”

Harry knew. His game plan called for getting her away from the stop before any witnesses saw them together. “Can you catch the next one? Or I could drive you home. I’ve got all day.”

She glanced at the gleaming blue BMW he’d just parked. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“I drive for a living, remember? I enjoy it.” He held her gaze. “This is our only chance. I leave tomorrow.”

“Well, okay.” She shook her hair back from her face. It flowed in the sunlight like a river of gold. “Why not? I usually go home and crash after my shift, but as long as I catch a nap before soccer I’ll be fine.”

“Soccer?” Harry longed to stroke her hair. He jammed his fists into his pockets and started walking away from the bus stop.

Gina fell in step beside him. “I told you the other day—I’m goalie on the all-city girls team.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. Race week I talk to so many people it’s impossible to keep straight who said what.” He winked. “Today you have my undivided attention.”

Gina’s cheeks flamed. She looked away.

“So are you good?”

She grinned at him. “Got a shut-out last game.”

Harry’s heart raced. Delicate but strong. He bet he could score.

A short walk brought them to the beach. The path paralleled the shoreline, separated from the expanse of dark sand by a bank topped with whisper-dry beach grass. To their right a strip of short, softer grass fell away to the fences of private homes with lush green yards, the houses set well back and facing the ocean.

Nine-thirty on a Monday morning was hardly prime beach time, and they had the trail to themselves. Gina prattled on about soccer, work, her friends. Harry drank in the music of her voice, the thrill of her nearness, and replied enough to keep her talking.

He caught snatches of her conversation. Something about an ankle still tender from an earlier game, then later her dreams for the future. Law or photography, unless she could make it as an actress. Have I got acting plans for you...

As he’d noticed on his morning runs, most of the houses backing on the path were closed up during the week, probably weekend beach houses. Some looked too elaborate for that, and Harry assumed their owners left early for jobs in the city.

He slowed his pace as they passed a string of properties that showed no sign of life. One had what looked to be a mini cottage, complete with porch, a few feet from the path. It must be a place to change for swimming, or perhaps the owners liked to sit and watch the waves. He’d scouted it out earlier in the week.

This was his stop. He nudged Gina. “How’s your ankle?”

“What? Oh, it’s fine.”

“Well let’s take a minute and you can rest it. I want to get out of the sun.” He pointed at the beach house. “I don’t think the owners would mind if we sat down.”

Gina shrugged. “Okay, if you need to. Then I should be getting back.”

Harry vaulted the chain-link gate and steadied Gina as she landed beside him. Electricity skimmed his palms, and he released her as soon as she found her footing. Could she hear his heart pounding?

He stepped onto the porch. Ignoring the folded deck chairs, he sat on the floor and leaned back against the red-painted wall. “I had a busy day yesterday.”

Gina laughed and sat beside him.

“Seriously, racing uses enormous amounts of energy, and I’m always a bit tired the next day. That’s what it costs to win.”

Sea birds dipped and wheeled over the bay, and few sailboats danced in the distance. Harry took a deep breath and glanced at the girl by his side. This was as far as he’d follow the plan. He’d won his mental game. It was time to go.

Gina sighed. “It is nice. You know, I work near the beach every day, and I never come here.”

“Mmm.” Why not stay a bit longer? There was no hurry, after all. Gina was the perfect companion. She had his senses quivering faster than sunlight dancing on the water.

He reached for her hand. Her fingers stiffened, then returned a gentle pressure. He turned to study her. “You’re lovely, you know. I noticed from the start.”

“Thank you.” She was blushing again.

The tremble in her voice thrilled him. He swallowed hard, willing his own words to stay steady. “You didn’t think it was the muffins that brought me back each day?”

The breeze trailed strands of her long blond hair across his face. He moved them away, fingering them before tucking them behind her ear. “Are you seeing anyone?” He kept the question casual, as if it didn’t matter. Suddenly it did.

Gina blinked. “Yes. But—it’s not serious.”

“I could be,” he whispered against her hair. Serious? He was leaving tomorrow. But he could come back, get to know her... Why not? She was pleasant enough, and she certainly stirred him.

He lifted her chin and gave her an almost chaste kiss. “I’m twenty-five. Is that really too old?” He watched her melt under the heat of his gaze, then kissed her again more passionately. She snuggled nearer.

Harry’s desire flared, forbidden fantasies alight in his mind. But this was no dream. He had the real thing here in his arms.

His self-control snapped. His kisses demanded more, his hands explored boldly. Gina tried to push away but he caught her shoulders.

Her fists pounded his chest. “Stop it! What are you doing?”

Harry’s hand shoved the scream back into her mouth. He dragged her to her feet, fired by the sudden fear in her eyes.

“Just getting started.”

She fought harder, but he tightened his hold. He kicked open the door and pulled her into the beach house.