This Time, Forever (8 page)

H
E REFUSED
to call her. Would not give her the satisfaction. Refused to chase after her.

“Crap,” he found himself yelling when his helmet fell to the floor of the hauler with a crack that almost made it sound as if the darn thing had broken. He knew that wasn't possible.

“You sound like a man on the edge.”

Linc looked up in surprise. PDQ's star driver stood near the glass doors. At six foot two the man was an inch taller than himself, but there the similarities ended. Bart Branch was blond with blue eyes. Women went crazy over him, not that Linc cared. Here was the man Linc had been hired to beat, but who seemed unstoppable lately. Linc wouldn't be surprised if he won the championship this year. And that was okay. He was one of Linc's closest friends, a man who'd stood by his side after his accident.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I'd check up on you. You looked a little worn out this morning.”

“Bad week,” he said.

They were at Martinsville. The NASCAR Nationwide Series cars were practicing outside. Linc could hear the rhythmic drone of engines.

“Yeah, I heard that,” Bart said.

Linc turned, helmet forgotten. “Heard what?”

Bart smiled a bit wryly. “About Marley.”

And Linc could only stare. “How?” he asked. And then he recovered himself. “I mean, what's this about Marley?”

But Bart was shaking his head. “You ought to know better than most that there are no secrets in the garage. Someone overheard you talking to Gil at Charlotte when he caught you kissing his sister.”

Charlotte. The night he'd lost Marley. Still, Linc thought about denying it, told himself to tell Bart that he was wrong.

“I can't believe I missed it. How long have you two been dating?” Bart asked.

Linc shook his head dismissively. “Not long.”
Too short an amount of time to feel this broken up over the whole thing
, Linc privately added.

“But you obviously care for her.”

Linc shrugged. “We've known each other for a long time.”

Bart nodded, his curly hair looking like it belonged on a California surfer rather than a NASCAR driver. “Sometimes, though, you can be with someone their entire life and not really know them.”

The words made Linc still. It was a well-known fact that Bart's father, Hilton Branch, had embezzled a fortune and then vanished. The scandal had been a couple of years ago, but Linc suspected as Bart got better with each race, it would be dredged up again. The media loved to dig up old bones.

“Boy, ain't that the truth,” Linc said. After he'd gotten out of the hospital and it looked like his career was over, he couldn't believe how many of his so-called “friends”
had disappeared from his life. It'd been a huge eye-opener to see who had cared for him personally, and who had been using him because he was Linc Shepherd, former NASCAR Sprint Cup Series champion.

“It can get tough,” Bart said.

For the first time Linc noticed Bart appeared troubled, too. The two of them had been as good friends as possible, given they were competitors on the race track.

“You sound like your personal life is in shambles, too.”

It was Bart's turn to look uncomfortable. Linc wondered if Bart would deny it, but his former rival surprised him when he said. “You don't know the half of it.”

Linc turned, leaned against the counter that ran the length of the trailer, and crossed his arms. “You need to talk?”

Bart shook his head, as if he planned to keep matters to himself. But then he blurted, “My dad had a second family.”

Linc straightened in shock. “Say
what?
”

Bart nodded, his tension appearing to ease. “I heard it from my sister, Penny. She found out after visiting my dad in jail. The son of a bitch even had a child with the woman.”

“Holy—” Linc didn't know what else to say. If word got out about this…

“And she's missing.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Linc said. “Your father had a secret family and one of his children is missing?”

“His
only
child with his mistress, wife…whatever you want to call her,” Bart said. “The daughter he had
with the woman is a toddler and we have no idea where she is.”

Unbelievable, Linc thought.

Bart ran a hand through his hair, his face growing troubled again. “You think
you've
got problems,” Bart said, and Linc could tell he was trying to make a joke. “If I sat down and told you the whole sordid tale, it'd turn your hair gray.”

Linc knew he could say something pithy, but his accident had taught him that sometimes people needed a sounding board.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“Find my half sister. Focus on the Chase. Keep this out of the media.”

“Yeah, but if the press gets word of this—”

“Then I'll be front page news…again,” Bart said with a wry twist of his lips. “Doesn't matter. I have to do what's right, and it doesn't sit well with me that somewhere out there I have a half sister that's God knows where living who knows what kind of life. My father might be a jerk, but I'm not.”

Linc simply marveled. Here was a man who lived by his convictions. Who wasn't afraid to tempt fate to do what was right. Who didn't care what the consequences were as long as he could look himself in the mirror.

Despite nearly losing his life, Linc had never seen things in such clear shades of black and white.

But he had started to now.

“Anyway,” Bart said, “my life is in shambles. How's yours?”

And it was funny. It was at that precise moment that Linc had a revelation. He was mad as hell about what
had happened with Marley, but he had the power to change things…if he really, truly, honestly wanted to.

“You know,” he said softly, “I think my life's going to turn out just fine.”

“So you're okay with the fact that Marley's going to work for another company?”

“What?”

Bart looked as surprised by his outburst as Linc was.

“You didn't know about it?”

“Start explaining. Now.”

Bart's brows sank down. “Marley's brother found her another job. She's going to do PR for one of the associate sponsors.”

“Like hell she will.”

And for the first time Bart smiled. “So you
do
care for her.”

Linc drew up in surprise.

“Don't bother denying it, Linc. I can tell by your eyes that you do.”

Holy—

He was in love with her. How had that happened? When? Did she feel the same way, too?

Do you love me?

“You do, don't you?” Bart asked.

“I think I do,” Linc admitted.

“Then go after her, man. Trust me. That's what it's all about. You more than anyone should know that. This—” he waved his hands. “Racing. It's all secondary to what's really important—family.”

“I've been a fool,” he said.

Bart laughed. “You got that right.”

 

S
HE WASN'T AT THE TRACK
. Linc had known that. Still, he pulled off a top-ten finish. Frankly, he didn't care
about how he did, and as he caught a flight home on Double S Racing's private plane, he recognized that that had been his problem his whole time.

He'd been trying too hard.

Once he'd decided that he didn't care about how he finished, he'd been set free.

She was leaving Double S Racing.

To hell she was.

He called Gil on his cell phone and demanded a private meeting. His new team owner hadn't been pleased when Linc had ordered him to appear at his office the next morning, but Linc hadn't cared. The man could fire him. In fact, he hoped he would. That would make things easier.

“Ah, Linc,” the man said when Linc burst into his office without so much as a by-your-leave from Emma-Lee who sat behind a chrome-and-glass desk that matched Gil's.

“Gil,” Linc said, resisting the urge to slam the door closed behind him. He couldn't have if he wanted to.

“Gil, I'm sorry,” Emma-Lee said, the blonde somehow wedging herself between the door and its frame.

“It's okay,” Gil said. “He has an appointment.”

“He does?” Emma-Lee said, blue eyes widening.

“It's a private matter,” Gil said. His gaze shifted to Linc's. “One we're going to resolve today…one way or the other.”

Linc straightened, refusing to back down from the man. “Yes, we are,” he said.

“Close the door, please, Emma-Lee.”

The assistant did as ordered, but not before shooting the two of them a look of keen interest. Linc crossed to the front of Gil's desk once the door was closed. The
glass top was cold when he placed his hands against it, leaning toward his boss. “I'm going to marry Marley.”

He could tell they weren't the words Gil had been expecting because the man's eyes widened imperceptibly. “Are you, now?”

“I am,” Linc said. “And I don't care if that means having to pay a small fortune to get out of my contract with you. I'm marrying your sister with or without your permission.”

Gil leaned back in his chair, the thing squeaking as he did so. Linc straightened up slowly, crossing his arms in front of him as he waited for Gil's response.

“What makes you think you're good enough for her?” the man asked, blue eyes that were so like Marley's narrowing.

“I'm not,” Linc said quickly. “She's the most sensitive, compassionate, intelligent woman I've ever met and I refuse to give her up.”

And if he wasn't mistaken, he could have sworn the man's lips twitched a little…almost as if he'd just bit back a smile.

“You know,” Gil said after a moment of tense silence, “twenty years ago I got into this business on a whim.” He leaned forward slightly to pick up a pen. He fiddled with it absently as Linc stared down at him. “I never expected that my sister would want to follow me, but she did. At the time I promised my parents that I would keep an eye on her. They almost forbade her from ever visiting a race track again after the whole car fire debacle.” He shook his head. “Things settled down once she went to college, and I was glad to see that she seemed to have gotten over her crush on you. But I'll be honest, Linc. I worried about you coming to work for us because of
that crush. I was afraid she might embarrass herself all over again. Or that she might have grown to despise you over the years. I never, not once, expected the two of you to fall in love.”

“It's the real deal, if that's what you're worried about.”

“I guess it is.”

“Oh, yeah?” Linc said. “Is that why you told her to find another job? So she could get over me? So she wouldn't have to deal with the pain of seeing me day in and day out? So that
you
wouldn't have to see the pain in her eyes?”

He'd hit a nerve, Linc could tell. He pressed his advantage in the same way he did out on the race track. “She loves me. I know it, and I'm going to go find her and tell her that now. So if you love your sister, you'll offer me your congratulations, wish me well and send me on my way.”

No emotion flickered through Gil's eyes. Linc felt his pulse beat at the base of his neck as he waited for her brother's response.

“I'll expect your resignation on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Why wait?” Linc said, fishing around in his pocket for an envelope. This was it. The moment of truth. He was about to give up racing for a chance at something bigger than him—his love for Marley.

“Here it is right now,” he said firmly, though his voice was a near croak. He knew he was doing the right thing, but it still wasn't easy. “Have your lawyers contact mine about how much it's going to cost me to get out of my contract.” He tossed the envelope on Gil's desk, his
hands shaking. Linc watched the thing skate across the surface just before he turned away.

“She's not in her office,” Gil called out as Linc clasped the handle. “She's down the street, at Power Productions, doing a photo shoot with Bart Branch.”

Linc slowly turned to face the man.

“She's trying to learn a little something about PR before she leaves for her new job.”

Linc held the man's gaze for a moment before saying, “Thank you.”

The two of them studied each other for a moment. “Good luck,” Gil ended up saying.

Linc felt a spurt of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope.

“I'll need it,” Linc said.

I
T WAS A SHORT DRIVE
and Linc had never been more nervous in his life as he pulled to a stop in front of the single-story building. He'd known exactly where it was. Power Productions was well-known in the industry for their powerful driver promotions. They were one of the best in the business and if Bart was doing a photo shoot inside, it meant some serious publicity coming his way.

“Good morning,” a bright-eyed receptionist said as he entered the building. “Can I help— Oh! Mr. Shepherd. How are you? We haven't seen you in a while.”

Linc smiled, trying to set the woman at ease. He actually recognized the woman from some place. Wait. She'd worked the phones at one of his first race teams. “Lauren,” he said. “How are you?”

“I'm fine,” she said. The woman was older than him by about ten years, but this was a stroke of luck, Linc thought.

“Congratulations on hooking up with Double S Racing.”

“Thanks,” Linc said, trying not to wince. “Is Marley inside? I need to see her.”

“Gil's sister? Yeah. She's with the production crew.”

“Terrific,” Linc said. “Is it okay if I go in?”

“Sure,” the woman said. “Studio Five. You know the one. The big one at the end.”

Linc nodded his thanks as the woman buzzed him through a private door. He did, indeed, know where it was. It had a roll-up door at one end so they could use a driver's car. “Thanks,” Linc said before crossing through the door.

“My pleasure,” Lauren said, Linc noticing that her blond hair had started to turn gray. Were they really getting that old?

Was he too old for Marley?
he wondered as the door closed behind him. He was in a narrow hall, one with doors off to the left and right. He headed toward the room at the end.

To be honest he'd mulled over the question more times than he could count in the previous twenty-four hours. Did she have any interest in hooking up with a maybe washed up, forty-something-year-old driver? Did she love him?

He opened the door, his heart pounding as hard and as fast as it did on race day. Bart looked toward him as he swung the door wide. “Linc,” he called out. “What the heck are you doing here, buddy?”

And there Marley was, standing off to the side, the look on her face one of dismay mixed with trepidation.

“I'm here to see Marley,” Linc admitted.

Bart straightened a bit, then started to smile. He seemed to know which way the wind blew. “Good move,” Bart said before turning to the right. “Time to take a break, folks. Let's clear out the studio.”

“But we just got everything all set up,” someone said. The photographer, Linc noticed, the man standing
behind a fancy-looking camera on a tripod to his left. There were about four other people standing near him.

“Too bad,” Bart said, walking toward a door. “I'm taking a break.”

“But we just got the lighting right,” the photographer whined. “Now we'll have to start all over again.”

“Be back in five,” Bart called.

“Bart,” Marley said, trying to call him back.

But the driver didn't listen and reluctantly, everyone followed him out, although the photographer didn't look happy about it. Linc saw Marley start to leave, too, and raced forward to stop her.

“Stay,” he ordered.

“Why?” she asked sharply.

“Because I'm in love with you.”

She gasped and whispered, “Oh!” Her eyes filled with tears.

“And if I'm not mistaken,” he said, gently lifting her chin, “you love me, too.”

He saw her swallow, saw her blink back tears. “I do,” she admitted softly.

He couldn't keep the grin from his face. “That's what I thought.”

“But, Gil. Your job. If we start dating, my brother will throw a fit—”

“I resigned.”

“You did
what?
”

“I quit.”

“You can't do that.”

He clasped her face between his hands. “Why? Are you the only one that's allowed to find another job?”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “But if one of us has to quit, it should probably be me.”

He couldn't wait any longer. He folded her in his arms, and as he did so, he realized it felt right…absolutely right. Bart had been right. This was what it was all about. Family. Connections. Being loved—and loving someone in return. His lips found hers, and if he had any doubts that she loved him, too, they evaporated beneath the heat of that kiss. He wanted to push her up against Bart's car, but he knew he couldn't do that. No. That could wait. For later.

“Marry me, Martian Girl?” he asked, pulling back.

He saw her lips twitch before she softly answered, “Yes,” and then sank into his arms. “Yes, yes, yes,” she muttered, hugging him tight.

“And you're not going to quit your job,” he said, resting his chin on top of her head. “Your brother would hate me even more if I forced you to do that.”

“I don't hate you.”

They both drew apart. Gil stood in the entrance, the look on his face one Linc would never forget.

“I just needed to make sure you loved Marley more than anything else in life.” He held up a letter. “And I have that proof right here.”

He heard Marley gasp back a sob. “Gil,” she said, her voice clogged with tears. “I'm so glad to see you. I feel so bad about everything that happened.”

Her brother came forward, Marley sinking into his arms. “I promised our parents I'd look out for you, Marley. I needed to make sure he really loved you.”

“He does,” Marley answered.

“I know that now,” Gil said, looking Linc in the eye.

“I do,” he admitted.

“Good, because I can't have my future brother-in-law driving for me if he doesn't truly love my sister.”

“Oh, Gil,” Marley said, pulling back.

“Here,” Gil said, handing Linc the envelope he'd slid across the man's desk less than a half hour ago. But Linc hesitated.

“Take it,” Gil repeated.

“What if I've lost my touch?” Linc said, confessing his biggest fear to the both of them.

“Then we'll figure something out,” Gil said. “But something tells me you'll do just fine.”

He heard Marley sniff again, knew she was fighting back tears. Linc opened his arms. Marley sank into them. “Thank you,” he mouthed to Gil over the top of her head.

Marley's brother had tears in his eyes, too. “You're welcome,” he answered back.

 

A
S IT TURNED OUT
, Gil was right. He didn't do “just fine.” Two years later, Linc won his third championship, and as Marley stood beside him in Victory Lane, paper pieces fluttering down around them, he knew they'd made the right choice all those years ago.

“I love you, Martian Girl,” he whispered in her ear.

“I love you, too,” she replied over the sound of the crowd.

They kissed, the crowd going wild all over again. Linc smiled to himself, knowing in that moment that he hadn't been given just a second chance, he'd been given a shot at a whole new life, one he couldn't imagine without Marley.