One Last Hold (15 page)

She needed money to pay her increasing rent. He had to remember that.

But damn, she hadn’t written anything about his past, or even his crazy present. A step-brother returns, a step-brother he had resented, and now they were playing cards together.

Maybe he should give her what she wanted. Give her an interview and get her out of his life so he could move on with his.
Again.

He didn’t want to. If he did, she’d be done with her assignment and out of his life. He wasn’t ready for that.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Everything’s great,” Keegan said in reply to his question. He shook his thoughts aside and focused on his company.

Doubts about Keegan crept in. He wanted to believe it was coincidence and that Caitlyn had no idea about their relationship, but life was handing him too many coincidences lately and he didn’t like it.

He shook Keegan’s hand and hugged Rayma, then stationed his hand on Caitlyn’s lower back and escorted her to the door.

He clenched his jaw, ignoring the tug of possessiveness he felt.
She doesn’t belong to you. She’s never belonged to you. Let her go.

“Be careful,” he said. The temptation to ask her to stay thickened his blood, but she was already bounding down the steps with her friend’s arm hooked through hers.

“I’ll take care of them,” Keegan said.

I’ll take care of them.

Bullshit. It wasn’t Keegan’s job to take care of Caitlyn and it’d be over Wesley’s dead body.

He called the next morning and offered her a ride home, ignoring the warnings in his mind that he should stay away. Let her go, don’t follow.

Just like he hadn’t followed her last time. He’d tucked tail and run, punishing himself with a sentence worse than prison. Until he’d started racing. So why was he chasing her now?

He’d loved Caitlyn at one time and wasn’t ready to love again anytime soon. But if he did, it shouldn’t drill pain behind his skull or make him sullen and consumed. God, but he did right now. He felt like nothing else mattered, and he wanted her to be with him.

Stupid. He had to get back on the track. He had to win, let the engine rumble in his gut and the racetrack spin these thoughts of his mind. Forget everything else.

“That’d be great,” Caitlyn said when he asked her if she’d like him to take her home. “If you’re sure. Keegan wanted to take a side trip and take Rayma to meet his mom.”

He met her at her hotel, and a quick ride in Tim’s private jet didn’t allow long conversation. He questioned his motives over and over and over again. Maybe he should just take her to bed one last time, get her out of his system. What the hell did she expect from him, anyway?

Before long, they were in a taxi headed to her apartment.

The sun descended in a fiery ball, clouds blanketing the inferno, muting to a stream of orange and gold along the horizon.

They didn’t speak at all throughout the taxi ride, but her thigh grazed his in a whisper-soft caress. His body tingled, his ribcage tightening with the need to touch her. Taste her. Feel her. Experience every breadth of her and make her forget the past ten years of her life were spent without him.

When they made it to her apartment, he paid the tab before Caitlyn had a chance to object. Wesley didn’t play the gentleman and let Caitlyn enter first. He opened the apartment and went in, inspecting the rooms.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Checking things out.”

“Making sure no one is hiding in any corners?” she teased, her smile weary.

“Something like that.”

“Just as I left it,” she said and placed her purse on the table. She opened the blinds to let in the weak sunshine, almost gone by now. “Blake has been calling and texting all day. Guess I better give him a call. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” Wesley roamed her apartment while she called Blake. He admired her nicely sized kitchen. Pinkish gray and white granite countertops with cabinets the same rich wood as the floor bespoke elegance and comfort, and the floor plan opened into the living room, which revealed the same stunning hard wood overlaid with a blue printed hearth rug.

Wesley scanned the photographs hanging on her wall. Antique barn wood and glossy black framed most of the photos, which consisted of nature, people, unusual buildings and vibrant scenes. A picture she had obviously taken during one of his races hung among others he assumed were taken from previous assignments.

“Nice pictures,” he said when she approached. He brushed one of the black frames with his finger and found it glassy to the touch, smooth and cool.

Kind of like the vise gripping his heart.

“Thank you. I took most of these photos.”

“Really?” he asked, though not surprised.

“I love taking pictures.”

“Yes, I remember. I didn’t think you would ever be this good.”

“Thanks a lot,” she said and lightly smacked him on the shoulder.

He turned towards her but kept the space between them. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I need to dig out my old pictures. I have so many of you with your old cars, fixing them up. Your fans would love them.”

“Mmm, maybe. What did your boss want?”

“To let me know when my next assignment is due. I reminded him of his promise not to give me any more assignments as long as I’m working on this one, but he informed me I’m off of this one now. It isn’t working out for him. First, he wants me to do it no matter what, then he says never mind. I don’t get him.”

“Did you tell him I’ve granted you an interview?” Wesley wasn’t sure why the words poured out, but hearing her boss was pulling her from the assignment was like hearing the harsh squeak of tires against asphalt. Charging his gut with dread.

Caitlyn’s lashes flickered. “No. I didn’t know I should tell him that.”

He wasn’t ready to accept the assignment might be over when it had barely begun. He couldn’t accept he might never see her after this.

It was inevitable she would leave eventually, go back to her life. They were different people now with different goals in life.

Being in lust, having chemistry, being old friends just wasn’t enough to make something last.

The only thing he needed to last was his racing career, but he owed her at least an interview. And if he was ever going to agree to an exclusive, it might as well be with her.

“I’ll sit down with you and give you an in-depth interview, Caitlyn, I promise.” He took hold of her hand and squeezed. His blood pressure dropped.

He wanted to take her to bed. Make her forget everything. Make
him
forget everything. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not ever. That would only make things awkward now that he had agreed to an interview. So he’d play it cool for now. He’d learned patience, but his patience was quickly wearing thin.

His ribcage tripped as she worried her lip with her tongue.

“You’ll give me an interview?” she asked. Her voice taunted the fear in his body. If he let down his guard, he’d never get over her. Not twice.

Wesley held up his hands. “Yep. An exclusive. Friday, after I qualify. He’ll have to let you off to watch and you can see what happens during qualification. We’ll talk afterward and if you still want to do a biography, I’d appreciate if you let me read it of course, but I can’t stop you.”

Now why in the hell did he say that? A biography would mean revealing all kinds of things to his fans that he would never want revealed. He wasn’t ready for that. He’d never be ready for that.

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just agree to let her interview him now, get it over with, and go back to his life. Racing would plug the hole in his heart. Maybe, just maybe after he let her interview her, he’d take her to bed. Then get on with his life. The sooner the better.

Wesley swallowed a moan at the sight of Caitlyn’s quivering chin. Taking her to bed would only make things worse.

She smiled. “Thank you, Wesley. Thank you so much.”

He wasn’t ready to let her go. That’s why he tilted up her chin, put a chaste kiss on her cheek, and said his goodbye.

“See you next week.”

*

“I’m giving Caitlyn a formal interview.” Wesley placed the barbell back in its cradle on the bench, sat up, and grabbed a towel.

“I don’t know about that, man,” Adam replied.

Wesley got up and let Adam take his seat. They’d been workout partners for years, and worked out every morning either in a local gym or with the equipment Wesley kept in his RV.

“What’s not to know?” Wesley asked as he spotted Adam on his chest press.

Adam let out a ragged breath and sucked in another before replying. “You’ve never granted a formal, in-depth interview with anyone. Why her?” He sat up. “Why not a television interview or something?”

“Because I trust Caitlyn.”

“And if you do a television interview, they can’t fuck up what you said because it’s right there on TV for everyone to see.”

“Yeah, unless they change it around and put it out of context.”

“Live TV,” Adam stated.

“What do you have against Caitlyn?” Wesley asked, lifting dumbbells to perform bicep curls. Adam lowered to the floor to do pushups. “You’re the one who let her in the garage in the first place.”

“I don’t have anything against her,” Adam said, rising from the floor. “She’s gorgeous. Maybe that’s why I don’t trust her.”

“She’s a woman. That’s why you don’t trust her.”

“You should follow my example,” Adam said.

Wesley winked and reversed positions so Adam did his bicep curls while Wesley did pushups.

“So there’s a relationship here?” Adam asked.

“Mutual friendship, that’s all.”

That was true, it had to be true
. If they could live in the present tense as Caitlyn said, and not dwell on the past, friends were all they could be.

Yet Caitlyn’s body played havoc with his restraint. Her words, her looks, her personality. Damn, the sexual energy inside him was about to combust. If only he could find a girl, just any girl, to ease his desire. But that wasn’t about to happen.

Not until whatever surged between him and Caitlyn came to a head.

“Look,” Adam said when they finished their next set, “I haven’t told you yet that my wife left me.”

“What?”

“I’m never home,” Adam said, giving a good impersonation of a nagging wife. “She doesn’t know me anymore. She needs more out of life.”

“Do you need to take some time off to go see her?”

“Hell no.” Adam grabbed a towel and did arm stretches.

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Wesley said as he did the same.

“You want to go out tonight?” Adam asked.

“It’s Friday. I have to qualify today and Caitlyn is coming over.”

Adam wiggled his brows. “Ah,” he said.

“Hey, you’ll be plenty busy tonight getting ready for Sunday’s race.”

“So should you,” Adam said.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be ready.”

*

Even after all these years of racing, butterflies still swarmed Wesley’s gut on qualifying days. It was more dangerous than race day, because he hit top speed and ran risks in order to make the best position possible. No other cars hindered his progress, just his own jumbled nerves. When he climbed into his racecar, any current problems in his life remained at the pit stop, parked at a standstill. Despite the dangers, it was the ultimate way to live stress free, in Wesley’s opinion. Plus, it gave him a rush.

When he passed the sensor indicating he was finished with his lap, he slowed his car to a crawl then stopped. His team cheered. He felt good about his time, but being locked in the cockpit, it was hard to know for sure how well he did until he talked to his team.

“I think we’ll stand,” they decided after talking it over.

Caitlyn was flushed, smiling, and resembled a true fan when she came up to him.

“What does that mean?” she asked, her pink notebook in hand.

“It means I won’t qualify again, we’ll stand on my time and hope it’ll be good enough to make the race so I don’t have to watch it on TV.” He couldn’t remove his gaze from her, despite the work still needing to be done. She was exquisite, with her piercing blue eyes and face beaming. Her excitement filled him with pride.

“You did great out there,” she said. “I was so scared when you went around those curves that fast, but it was awesome. I think I got some great pictures.”

Caitlyn hung around and talked to some of his crew members as he performed more practice laps. Occasionally, she caught hold of Adam’s arm and laughed at something he said. When Wesley could take no more, he pulled his car into the garage and said he was done for the day.

His frown was heavy when he approached Caitlyn and Adam. She wore a denim skirt with black boots and a white lacy top that spliced in the middle. It was hard for a man’s eyes not to linger on the necklace dangling between the dip in her breasts. A camera hung around her neck and the bag she always carried around with her, a somewhat lighter load without the laptop, sat at her feet.

“I have some great stories to put in my next article,” Caitlyn told Wesley, holding up her spiral notebook. Apparently, Adam fed her stories. Adam backed away at Wesley’s frown.

“How’s your wife?” Wesley asked Adam, his fingers twitching.

“Still gone,” Adam replied.

Of course she was. Wesley pinned Adam with a hard
keep away
glare before he turned to Caitlyn and grabbed her bag. The least he could be was a gentleman and carry the damn thing.

“You ready to go?” Not waiting for a reply, he nodded to Adam then turned and walked away. Caitlyn followed.

“I’ll meet you at your hotel in an hour or so,” Wesley told her as he ushered her to the rental car. He needed to get some last minute things accomplished and he didn’t want to be sidetracked by her.

Wesley hated the sting of possessiveness and had to distance himself in order to regain his equilibrium. Jealously had never been a factor in their relationship. Damn, now he was referring to it as a ‘relationship’. They hadn’t had one of those in so long. What in the hell was wrong with him?

Before they’d had sex, he’d been Caitlyn’s protector, her best friend. That protective instinct now consumed him.