Speed Demons (26 page)

*

Blythe saw the green Ford swivel, slamming into the barrier at the bend. At first she couldn’t see the Viper, but she heard Ben call out Evie’s name in frustration, with no immediate reaction from her. Her heart literally stopped before it beat wildly, the pulsations mostly noticeable in her throat.
Please, please, please, Evangeline.

She barely finished her thought before the audience gave such a roaring, thunderous sound, it temporarily deafened her. The red Viper shot forward, past the skidding Ford with plenty of space between them, and assumed second place after a Chevrolet.

“Yes!” She heard Evie yell triumphantly over the headset. “How’s the guy in the Ford doing, Ben?”

“He’s come to a stop. He’s all right, kiddo.”

“Thank
God
.”

She took a few moments to regain her composure, not having anticipated how rattled she’d become. She suddenly understood that while focusing on Evie’s nightmares, her flashbacks, she’d totally missed her own fears. The incident had been potentially serious, but no way near what happened two years ago, and yet it was damn near impossible for her to regain her work mode.

As usual, holding on to her camera, the familiar feeling of viewing the world, no matter the target, through the lens, settled her. She watched the Viper, listened to the comments back and forth between Ben and Evie, and gradually her breathing slowed. She hadn’t realized that she’d hyperventilated until her fingers stopped prickling. The fact that she stood on a chair made such things kind of important to keep tabs on. Falling down and breaking her neck, not to mention her beloved camera, wasn’t an option.

With only twenty-some laps left of the 267, she had been up and down the chair more times than she could remember. Shooting the Viper from different distances, taking pictures of the crowd and the team, and the competitors, she was starting to develop a headache. In addition to the loud sound of the engines, the fans in the bleachers and the excited speaker added their own decibels to the mess.

Would she be able to tolerate this setting for years to come? If she and Evie were going to have a future together, she’d have to come to as many of these races as possible. She’d want to, for Evie. Granted, today had been harder than it would be later, since she’d been working. In the future, she’d insist on having a very comfortable chair in the pit with the team, not climb one a million times to carry out her assignment. She made a face, wondering, not for the first time, if she’d ever get used to watching Evie risk her life for the sake of entertainment. Evie’s love of the sport and for the driving, and her competitiveness, drove her to test the limits for herself and the Viper.

But she couldn’t bear the possibility of not having Evie in her life. As soon as she’d known she loved Evie, and when she’d let her know, when they’d both confessed to loving each other, she was committed.

The last lap had the crowd billowing like a cornfield in a storm, their excitement tangible as Evie challenged the leading Chevrolet while warding off the furious attacks from the third and fourth cars behind her. When they approached the straightaway in front of the bleachers the last time, the checkered flag flying, Blythe was back on her chair, working the Hasselblad adamantly. The Chevrolet won by less than a yard but, not surprisingly, the crowd chanted Evie’s name.

After stripping the camera from the tripod, she rushed over to the pit where the team was cheering and slapping each other’s backs.

“Blythe! Can you believe it? Did you get it?” Ben rushed over, and before she had a chance to object, he hoisted her up on his shoulder with a strong grip around her hips. Had anybody told her ahead of time of his intention, she would’ve cringed, but now she couldn’t stop herself from laughing happily. Grabbing his collar with one hand, for support, she held on to her camera with the other as Ben danced a jig.

*

After rounding the track one more time, Evie drove into the pit, and before she had a chance to exit the car, hands pushed in through the opening and pulled her out. “Damn it, girl, you’re fucking amazing!” Ben hugged her and twirled her around. Soon the rest of the team had either hugged her or slapped her back enough to leave bruises. Then they parted and all she saw was Blythe. Standing there, for some reason dressed in a much-too-big team jacket, smiling like an angel with her hair fluttering in the wind, Blythe had never looked more beautiful.

Evie leaped forward and hugged her. “Did you see? Did you see that?”

“I did. I’m so proud of you. I saw. I saw.” Blythe wrapped her arms around her neck and held on. “You were fantastic. Just listen to that crowd.”

“What crowd?” She grinned. She heard them, and she appreciated that the NASCAR fans were happy, but she craved the happiness and pride in Blythe’s eyes. “You’re all I want.”

“You have me. Now go wave. Time for you to hit the podium or they’ll come looking for you.”

“You’ll be here when I come back.” It wasn’t a question.

“Try to stop me.”

“I like you in that jacket, but we’ll have to get one your size.”

Blythe snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Get going, Marshall.”

She couldn’t resist a last squeeze, then left to go face the crowd.

*

The press conference was an ordeal Evie had never much appreciated. This time, there’d be hard questions, and she’d gone over the most obvious in her mind many times. She now sat between the two guys who came in first and third, and, unexpectedly, most of the questions were directed at her.

“How did it feel to drive again, Evie?”

“Great. I love being back.”

“Did you think of the guys that died two years ago?”

“I did. I imagine we all did.”
You idiot, what do you think?

“We hear there’s a book coming about your comeback. Some people think it’s not quite right to make money on this topic.”

“Is there a question there somewhere?” She frowned, but forced herself to stay calm.

“Well, what do you think?” the sports reporter said with a sneer.

“This book was already planned last year, before the crash. I’m glad I can still participate in this project. I think it’ll be a great tribute to the guys we lost, to the ones that were injured, and to motorsport as a whole.”

“And let’s not forget that Evie was among the ones with the most severe injuries.” Gary, the driver to her right who’d won, spoke with a soft, yet authoritative voice. “In my book, she’s the true winner today. If anyone thinks it was a piece of cake for her to get behind the wheel, on the very racetrack where she nearly lost her life, think again.”

After that, the questions were easier, and she could breathe. She saw Ben and Blythe just inside the doors to the left, and just wanted to join them and celebrate with the team. Eventually the press conference was over, and after signing enough autographs for the fans to put a permanent kink in her wrist, she could escape back to the RV.

Blythe, now dressed in chinos and a white polo, her hair damp, waited for her inside the door. Pouncing on her, Blythe kissed her repeatedly. “Finally. I don’t mind sharing you with the team, or even the fans, but those reporters…they make me want to bring a bat.”

“My knight. You’re so sexy when you’re protective.” She grinned. “You don’t want to hug me anymore. I need to shower. Sitting in that car for 267 laps doesn’t do much for personal hygiene.”

“Shower away. I’ve already had mine. We’re taking you to dinner once you’re done. Then I have a surprise.”

“You do?” Gratefully getting out of her sweaty clothes, she glanced over at Blythe. “What is it?”

“Ha-ha.” Blythe stuck her tongue out. “You must take me for a fool to imagine I’d fall for that.”

“No, no. You’re no fool. Be right back.” She showered with pleasure, glad that she’d gone for a fully equipped RV with all the bells and whistles. She’d bought this for the season, since staying in hotels wasn’t quite in the budget. This would be more homelike, and the bedroom area was more than enough, even with Blythe. She had pondered what to tell her team, but so far she hadn’t come up with a good story. She needed to discuss it with Blythe first anyway.

Outside the shower, Blythe waited with a bath towel and wrapped it lovingly around her.

“Wish we could stay here and just, um, hang.”

“Hang? Yes.” She loved how Blythe looked when she turned this gorgeous shade of pink. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather hang with. I look forward to hanging with you tonight. Unless your secret plans leave hanging out of it.”

“No, no. Hanging is kind of the whole base for the secret.” Blythe giggled.

She stared. Blythe rarely, if ever,
giggled
.

“All right. So, better get ready for the celebratory dinner. The guys must be starving.”

“Having observed their eating habits, I’d say that’s a superfluous comment.” Blythe propped her shoulder against the doorway. “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll just enjoy myself while you get ready.” Her eyes devoured Evie’s body.

“See anything you like?”

“Yes. That too. Mostly, I see someone I love.”

Melting completely at Blythe’s soft tone, she had to kiss Blythe once more before getting ready. “I love you too.”

*

“This…I never would’ve guessed
this.
” Evie motioned to the luxurious hotel room and the scenery outside the window. “When did you arrange all this?”

“Oh, I had time.” Blythe couldn’t stop smiling. Evie had gone from curious to suspense-filled before Blythe had driven into Key Biscayne and stopped at a hotel right on the beach. She’d made reservations only a few days after they’d declared their love, knowing that Evie would either love to celebrate or might need consolation and solitude. Fortunately it was the former, and happiness for Evie’s sake bubbled in her chest.

“How long are we staying?” Evie hugged her close and then pulled her out onto the balcony overlooking the ocean. She leaned against the railing, holding Blythe in her arms, resting her cheek against her head.

“Let’s see, it’s Saturday evening. Oh, not anymore.” She checked her watch. “It’s Sunday morning. I figured we could stay until Tuesday. Ben said they were cool. They’re planning to work on the Viper.”

“Mmm. Two, well, almost three, nights with my sweetheart. Sounds perfect. Love it.”

“So do I. As I said, I can share you a little bit, but you’re mine, Evangeline. Just so you know.”

“Oh, sweetie, I do.” Evie held on tighter. “I know.”

Epilogue

“What name should I write, sir?” Blythe smiled at the older gentleman wearing a Stetson and a plaid flannel shirt.

“My name is Burt Taylor, but the book’s for my grandson here. His name’s Jack.” The grandfather proudly placed a hand on the shoulder of a teenage boy standing next to him. The kid looked like he was about thirteen and slowly turned beetroot red when she directed her attention to him.

“Jack it is, then.” She carefully opened the hardcover of her photo book,
Challenges
, and signed a personalized note to Jack. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“What’s Evie Marshall like, in real life?” Jack gushed.

“She’s wonderful. Just as gutsy in real life as she is as a driver. Funny, nice, and loves the NASCAR fans.”

“She’s a remarkable young woman,” the grandfather said. “Just think, she’s got pole position today.”

“She sure does.” She was torn between being proud of Evie and dealing with the fact that the wolves would be on her tail from the first second.

“Say hi to her if you get a chance, please.” Jack, sounding more confident now, accepted his book. “Thanks, Grandpa. Ms. Pierce.”

“Have fun today, Jack. Mr. Taylor.”

She hadn’t expected the interest in their book to be so overwhelming, and now she was glad her publisher had insisted on shipping so many copies. Her agent was present, as was her new assistant, Abigail. Normally Abigail worked out of New York, taking care of everything from the office, but Blythe had listened to her publisher and brought her to Homestead-Miami Speedway.

She glanced up at the next in line and blinked at the small crowd that stepped closer. Recognizing Susie and Trevor, she gripped the black Sharpie tight, her hand trembling. They’d communicated via e-mail regularly since her visit in Myrtle Beach, but hadn’t spoken about getting together.

“Hello, Blythe,” Trevor said, smiling carefully. “Can you sign this for my wife, Marilyn, and me, please?” He held out a copy of her book.

“Sure.” A thousand questions jumbled in her head. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“Abigail. We told her we wanted to surprise you.” Susie’s eyes pleaded with her. “Hope that it’s okay. We’re all fans of Evie too.”

“Sure,” she said again.

“Please sign for me and Bobby, my husband?” Another copy of her book landed before her.

“My pleasure.” She studied her siblings and then remembered her manners. “Hello, Marilyn. Bobby. Nice to meet you.”

“And these are our kids. The boys are mine. The girls are Susie’s.” Trevor looked so relieved it was almost amusing. “We won’t hold up the line by introducing all of them by name right now. Perhaps we can say hello after the race? Here’s my cell number.” He handed her a business card. “Later?”

“Later. Have fun.”

“You too.” Her brother and sister looked so happy she could hardly swallow. She glanced back at Abigail. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help. You have about half an hour before you need to head over to the pit,” Abigail murmured discreetly. “Good thing you pre-signed a whole box of books. At least the last ones in line will get a signed copy if you have to leave before you get to them.”

“You’re worth every penny I pay you, Abigail.” She grinned, feeling even more buoyant, and kept signing, hoping to finish as many as possible. No way would she miss Evie’s start at the last race of the season. If Evie won this, she’d end up in second place overall, which was an amazing achievement by any standard.

“Time, Blythe.”

She saw five more in line for the book signing. “All right, everybody,” she said, raising her voice. “Please give me your names really quickly, because I need to go in two minutes. I’d love to personalize the autograph if possible.”