18

 

Graham felt the tap against the back of his car. Fighting the natural instinct of the tires to spin, he wrangled the car into submission.

If another driver wanted to take him out, it would be here, curling around the final turn.

He couldn’t spare a glance in the mirror. “Who is it?” he asked.

“Salinger. Don’t worry about him. Just give it all you got,” the spotter’s voice came through the radio.

Another tap, this time much harder, and Graham had to wrestle the steering wheel to keep from wrecking.

Salinger’s car zoomed alongside.

Graham glanced sideways to catch the man’s wicked grin. Graham glared, but it was too late. Salinger rocketed past him. He should have known Salinger would try to take him out. The guy couldn’t win by hard racing alone. No. He had to resort to pushing and shoving.

Well, Graham wasn’t playing that game and not just because Rori watched him from the pit box. He was known for racing hard, but fair, and he wouldn’t tarnish that image just to get a win. He tamped down the urge to turn the steering wheel into the back of Salinger’s car and mashed the gas pedal to the floorboard. This was it.

Just ahead, the flagger leaned over the track, poised to wave the checkered flag.

His car gained some traction, but he wasn’t going to make it. The tires were shot.

The checkered flag waved over Salinger’s car.

“Great job, guys! You worked your tails off this week. Sorry I couldn’t get the win for you, but it was a great season.” Easing his foot off the gas, Graham removed his gloves and unhooked the window shield. He whacked a glove against the steering wheel and turned onto pit road.

With Rori watching, he’d hoped for a win. But Rori might not be so frightened on pit road like she had been about winner’s circle. The media didn’t swarm like an angry beehive here, and it cleared out fast. Actually, now that he thought about it, second place was a blessing this week.

He tossed the gloves aside and killed the engine. He pulled himself through the open window, stretched and turned—

A body slammed into his chest. A warm female body.

He didn’t have to look to know who it was. Her signature scent, cinnamon and citrus with just the slightest hint of jasmine and roses, only minus the scents of the farm, drifted up, smelling so much better than oil and rubber. Her face settled against his chest, and he could feel her heartbeat through the layers of fireproof clothing he wore. Silky strands of long, dark hair blew in his face and tickled his cheek.

Rori.

“I was so worried about you at the end when that guy was trying to make you crash, but you did great.” Arms wound around his neck, and he pulled back far enough to gaze into the depths of the most lush eyes he’d ever seen.

The excitement mingling with the worry shining from her face was unmistakable.

If he lived to be a hundred, he would remember this moment forever. He sighed, contentment and joy filling his soul.

A win on the track didn’t matter tonight. This was the true victory.

She tugged his head down and her lips reached up to connect with his. Her kiss was just like her, sweet and undemanding, gentle and unassuming.

He deepened it, and she didn’t seem to mind.

Cameras clicked and lights flashed through his subconscious.

He pulled back, his lips a whisper away. “You OK with the cameras?”

She nodded, and he didn’t see the least bit of hesitation in her expression.

“That’s my girl.” Pulling back, he slung an arm over her shoulder, holding her close. He didn’t want her to pull the disappearing act. If she’d let him, he would help her through this.

A reporter stepped up to them and jabbed a microphone in Graham’s face.

Rori shifted under his arm, trying to detach herself.

“Will you stay with me?” he whispered, fingering a strand of hair away from her eye.

“Stay with you?” Fear flashed across her face.

“This interview won’t take long, and I’d like to see you home this time.”

She pressed her shoulders back and nodded, clamping her lips together.

He smiled and tightened his grip, holding her snug to his side.

Finally, he’d met a woman who so obviously didn’t care about fame or fortune. Rori cared about him, for who he was inside.

Thank You, God.

 

****

 

Rori bit her bottom lip. What had she just agreed to? Had she just opened herself up to another round of pain and humiliation from the media?

Graham tugged her close to his side and she closed her eyes, praying for the strength and peace that she now understood only came from God. She inhaled deep of gasoline and burnt rubber, but she also caught of whiff of pure Graham, some kind of wood and soap that mingled with the cool air. Her arm tightened around his waist for support, bolstering her courage.

Graham answered all the reporter’s questions with his customary confidence and humor, earning a few smiles from the reporter. Just like he’d won her heart.

“And I take it this lady is someone special?” the reporter asked, hinting around for a scoop.

She caught her breath and looked up.

Crinkle lines fanned out from Graham’s warm brown eyes, and his gaze never wavered from hers. His lips curled up, soft and cute, like he was keeping a secret. “Oh, yeah. She’s special all right, but we’ll save that for another day.”

Could he feel the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat underneath all the layers of his racing uniform? Her legs threatened to give out on her.

His grip tightened, as if he knew the effect his words had on her.

When the interview finally concluded, Graham tugged her to a private area near the pit box and hugged her. “Thank you for sticking with me, sweetheart.”

Special? Sweetheart? A longing started in her toes and raced all the way up to her heart. Was sticking with him permanently possible? Really?

“Ready to go home?” he asked.

“That sounds wonderful.”

His brows hiked. “Yeah? I agree. What are we waiting for?” He slung his arm around her, and they ambled towards his RV, their pace slow and easy.

All around them, the track bustled with activity. The same noises as last week, the same frenzy of movement as race teams packed up and got ready to leave, but tonight she felt different. Not so incapacitated or frozen with fear. With Graham’s arm around her, she could almost ignore the sounds and the commotion.

Graham stopped at the door to the RV, sliding his hands to her hips and tugging her against his rock hard chest.

“I have a couple more interviews to do, but they won’t take long. Will you stay here or will I come back to a note?” His eyes, soft and dark, pleaded with her to stay.

Funny thing was, she didn’t have any desire to go back without him. She liked the idea of sticking around to wait for him. “I’ll be here.”

Relief broke out on his face, and his shoulders relaxed. “Good.” He leaned down, his palms framing her cheeks, and kissed her. Teasing and playful, yet gentle and soft, when his lips pulled away, she wanted more. So much more.

“Now that the season is over, we can really spend some time together.”

That sent her heart into overdrive. “Oh, yeah?” She flashed him her flirtiest look. Not that she’d ever practiced that much, but she gave it her best shot.

A grin slid across his face. “Yeah. You’ll have to do a lot better than that if you want to get rid of me.”

“Who said I wanted to get rid of you?”

“Changed your mind, did you?” His brows dared her to challenge him. That, and his smug expression, so different from the vulnerable little boy look a minute ago.

“Maybe.” Definitely.

“Give me a few minutes. I’ll be back as quickly as I can, and then we can go home.” He planted a swift peck on her head and opened the door for her. He turned to leave, his long legs eating up the distance back to the track at a rapid pace.

Home. Yeah. That sounded nice, but not nearly as comforting as it used to be. Standing on the step in the doorway, she admired his broad powerful shoulders until he disappeared in the darkness. She knew he’d be back soon, just like he promised.

Because he was a man of his word.

A man she could count on.