His daughter stared at Becca for a second before crying out, “Daddy!”
Adam almost let out a sob. He held back his tears with the fiercest of efforts.
“Oh my gosh,” she said as she flung herself at him. “You did it.”
“I did it.” He held his little girl in his arms, wondering how he could have thought pursuing a full-time driving career might be the wrong thing to do. If he’d known how badly Lindsey had wanted this for him he’d have done it long ago.
“Shh,” he soothed, taking a deep breath to stall off tears. Wouldn’t do for Becca to see him cry. “We’ve a long way to go before anything’s for certain, Lin.”
“I know,” his daughter said, pulling back and wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “It’s just that I’m so
proud
of you.”
His ears buzzed for a second as he felt a lump in his throat.
He’d done it.
“I
knew
you could do it,” she said.
“We still have to calculate your score,” Becca said, and when Adam looked back at her, he was floored when he noticed her own red-rimmed eyes. “But it’s pretty obvious that you did great.”
“Are you sure?” Adam asked. “This morning you had three other drivers who were faster than me.”
“Yeah, but they scored poorly in other areas. One of them didn’t take direction well. Another one’s lap times weren’t consistent. It’s one thing to drive fast once or twice. What you need to do is do it all the time. You have that ability.”
Lindsey hugged him again, her little limbs managing to give him a death squeeze despite her petite frame. “You did it,” she crowed again.
Yes,
he thought.
I did.
Son of a bitch.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHE HAD TO LEAVE.
Becca had felt like an interloper from the moment Lindsey had entered the room.
“I’ll let you two celebrate,” she said, getting up from her chair.
“No, you don’t have to—”
But she’d already left the office. She had to leave the office because if she didn’t, she’d do something completely unprofessional.
Like start bawling in front of them both.
“Becca,” she heard him call.
She pretended not to hear him.
Footsteps rang out behind her. She sped up. She didn’t know where she was going, just wanted to find someplace where she could catch her breath, maybe get rid of the stupid tears that kept welling up in her eyes every time she pictured the look on Lindsey’s face.
“Becca,” she heard him say again.
She reached the end of the hauler, slipped out the door and stepped into bright sunlight. Their spare parts hauler was parked right next door and so she slid between the two big rigs, hoping he’d think he’d lost her amongst her crew members that were moving about and trying to clean up.
She should have known better.
“Hey, Becca. What’s up?” He appeared between the two haulers, too.
The sides of the truck were white, so if she turned back to him the light would refract up the makeshift alleyway, revealing her watery eyes—
His hand caught her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping in front of her.
“Nothing,” she said brightly, too brightly, wiping quickly at her eyes.
“You were crying.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Why?”
Because she was terrified. Because she envied what he had with his daughter. She’d never felt so alone. But she couldn’t say that. “I thought you and your daughter might want some time alone.”
He held her gaze. “You could have stayed.”
“No. You and Lindsey needed privacy.”
“You’re part of this, too.”
Her heart lurched. “No, I’m not—”
“I wouldn’t
be
here if not for you.”
“I’m not the one that drove the wheels off that race truck.”
“Just the same, thank you,” he said, squeezing her shoulders.
“You’re welcome,” she choked out. His hands felt warm. She suddenly felt cold.
“For everything,” he added. “I’ll never be able to express how much this all means to me. And to Lindsey.”
But he would try. She could see it in his eyes and that scared her to death because if he knew how much she wanted him to succeed, he might think she cared.
You do care.
“I have to go,” she said, her throat so tight with unshed tears that it was hard to get the words out.
“Becca.”
He stepped closer to her. She stopped. His hand tried to pull her close. She resisted.
He closed the distance between them.
She gasped. And the moment he touched her she lost the will to do anything other than move into his arms.
She was tired of always being strong.
“Adam,” she mumbled weakly.
He rested his cheek against the top of her head and held her. That’s all he did, hold her, but her legs grew weak just the same. She leaned back, tried to pull away, but his head began to lower. Their breaths mingled and for a moment she thought—
“Well, well, well.”
They broke apart.
Carl Kennison stood at the entrance to the alleyway, arms crossed, the white truck reflecting light onto a face that was a scorching, angry red.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“SO THIS IS HOW IT WORKS,” he drawled. “It’s not about driving skills, it’s about your ability to seduce the boss.”
“Mr. Kennison—”
“Shut the hell up,” Adam interrupted, taking a step toward Carl. “You have no idea what’s going on here, so I wouldn’t be so quick to leap to conclusions.”
“What conclusion is there to leap to other than you were about to kiss Becca Newman?”
Adam lunged. Becca caught his hand just in time, tugging him back. “Don’t,” she warned him when he glanced down at her, only to try to tug away from her. “Don’t,” she repeated. “It’s not worth it.”
“Oh, it’d be worth it, all right.”
“No, Adam, it wouldn’t. You know what he’d tell the media.”
“Oh, I’ll be talking to the media, all right,” he said, his blue eyes flaring like an arc welder.
“Go ahead,” Adam challenged. “We’ve got nothing to hide.”
“No? I’m sure the media will have a field day with this, anyway.”
With a nasty smirk, Carl turned away, Becca letting go of Adam’s hand only when he disappeared from the opening of the makeshift alleyway.
“That son of a b—”
“Adam, forget it. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
But they’d almost done something wrong.
“I know we didn’t, but that won’t stop that you-know-what from spreading nasty rumors.”
“Then we shouldn’t do anything that might be interpreted wrongly.”
“What I do is my own business.”
“Not when it involves me. Not now that you work for me.”
“Becca—”
“No, Adam. I know what you were about to do, but you can’t—” she took a deep breath of resolve “—you can’t kiss me,” she finished in a low voice.
“Becca, there’s something here,” he said, touching his heart. “I know you feel it, too.”
“All I feel is a healthy respect for your driving ability and a fondness for your daughter,” she lied. “That’s
all.
And so in the future you’ll refrain from touching me.”
“Becca—”
“I mean it, Adam,” she said, crossing her arms when he took a step nearer. “Or I’ll rescind my offer and I think we both know that would break Lindsey’s heart. She wants this for you, probably more than you want it for yourself.”
His jaw had begun to flex stubbornly. “You’re fooling yourself, Becca.”
“Am I? Or are you fooling yourself? You wouldn’t be the first driver to have a crush on me.”
His eyes narrowed, but that was good. She’d angered him. Maybe now he’d get the point. There was nothing between them, and there never could be.
Not as long as he was her driver.
“This isn’t over,” he said as she slipped past him, their shoulders brushing, Becca’s breath catching.
“Yes, Adam, it is.”
“It isn’t, Becca.”
She turned back to him, crossing her arms in front of her. “Then I guess that means I can’t hire you.”
“DAMMIT!”
“Dad?” Lindsey asked, suddenly blocking the entrance to the alleyway. “What’s going on? Becca just walked past me and she looked really, really mad.”
Her dad ran his hand through his hair, the look on his face one she recognized from the many times she’d gotten into trouble.
Uh-oh.
“Nothing,” he said, running his hand through his hair yet again, another sure sign that he was P.O.’d. If her face was going to freeze into a permanent cow grimace, her daddy was going to go bald by the time he turned forty with the way he always tugged at his hair.
“Look, Dad,” she said, glancing behind her before stepping between both trucks. “I may only be ten, but I know when something’s wrong. You should have seen the look on Carl Kennison’s face. I thought he might punch something.”
“It’s nothing, Lin.”
Lindsey watched her dad try to calm down. She could always tell he was doing that by the way he flexed his hands over and over again. It was like yoga for him.
“Did Carl catch you two kissing?”
“What?”
“Come on, Dad. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know there’s something between you and Becca.”
Her dad stared at her for a long second, only to run his hands through his hair again. “Why do I have a feeling you know a lot more about the birds and the bees than I want you to know?”
“Da-ad. Nobody calls it the birds and the bees anymore.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about this. Let’s go.”
“What did Carl say?” Lindsey asked, refusing to budge. “Did he say something to Becca to make her cry?”
“Was she crying?”
And he said the words so quickly Lindsey knew he’d begun to care for her already.
Awe. Some.
“No. But she looked like she might.”
“Son of a—” He shook his head again. “We’re leaving.”
She shrugged out of his grasp. “Dad, don’t. We need to talk about this. What’s going on between you and Becca is only about the most important thing in your life. You can’t let that Carl Kennison guy do something to ruin it.”
She didn’t think her dad would answer, but to her surprise she saw his shoulders relax, saw the look in his eyes change from one of irritation to one of acceptance. “He caught me just as I was about kiss Becca.”
“So?”
“She doesn’t want to hire me now.”
“She doesn’t? But that’s ridiculous.”
“Lindsey, it’s not up to me.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t give her a choice.”
“I can’t force her to hire me.”
“You can if you threaten to go to work for another team.”
“She’d let me go.”
“No, she won’t. Not if she’s as smart as I think she is.”
He appeared to consider that, the look on his face thoughtful and then serious. “You make it sound easy.”
“It
is
easy,” she said. Jeez. Sometimes adults could be so stupid. “Just go to her and tell her you’re sorry and ask if you can drive for her.”
“I think Becca’s afraid if she hires me someone will believe Carl Kennison when he says we’re an item.”
“That’s just dumb. All anyone’d have to do was look at your lap times.”
“He’ll claim they were doctored up or something.”
“No way.”
“He might,” he said.
“Does that mean you’re not even going to try?”
She watched him closely to make sure he really thought about her words because she couldn’t, just couldn’t let him quit. Not when practically her whole entire life depended on it. For years she’d been a total outcast. Well, okay, she had Brandy for a friend. But that was it. All those popular girls looked down their noses at her. But if her dad became a famous race car driver they wouldn’t be able to do that. Sure, she’d be going to another school by then, but just the thought of them seeing her and her dad on TV filled her with glee.
“Dad?” Lindsey prompted, still holding her breath.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Yesss!” Lindsey said, punching the air. “Yes, yes, yes. That Frances Pritchert will be
so
sorry she ever called me white trash.”