Speed Demons (6 page)

Stroking Blythe’s back, Evie marveled at the juxtaposition between Blythe’s petite body, her strong presence, and the allure that came with it all. This woman had an amazing number of faces and personas. Evie had seen her as painfully shy, physically fearless, emotionally distraught, and brutally honest within just a few hours.

Evie knew she’d shocked Blythe by saying she had methods to further distract her. It was true. Evie would do just about anything to keep Blythe from remembering those horrible images of women and men hurting and dying around her. Still, it was ironic that Evie’s mere presence conjured up other images of death and disaster.

She ran soft fingertips along Blythe’s cheek. Studying her in the soft candlelight, she was greedy to see each freckle, the short, straight nose, the high cheekbones, and the full, pale, curvy lips. The latter stole her breath away, and she envisioned brushing her own mouth against those soft, very feminine lips. Trembling now, she held Blythe closer, shutting her eyes on the enticing view.

“Are you going to tell me?” Blythe murmured. “Or do I have to guess?”

“Um. Oh. Right.” Cursing her habit of speaking before she engaged her brain, she knew Blythe would recoil if she downright lied, and the fragile sense of trust between them would evaporate. “I figured if all else fails, I could shock the bejesus out of you by kissing you…or something.”

“Oh.” Blythe didn’t look appalled, which was a relief. In fact, she homed in on Evie’s mouth while she ran the tip of her tongue across her own lower lip.

“Kiss me? You’re not joking, are you?”

“No.” Evie had to fight to get the small word out.

“For therapeutic reasons, you mean?”

“Yes. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Blythe lifted her gaze to meet Evie’s. “And the part that isn’t therapeutic?”

“Blythe.” Evie tried to warn the woman in her arms. “Maybe we should leave it at that, for now?”

“You’re going to leave me hanging, when it comes to that last non-therapeutic part, aren’t you?” Blythe sounded exasperated, but her glittering eyes contradicted her tone.

“Just for the time being.”

“Unless I need distracting.”

“Yes. Unless.” She watched Blythe take a deep breath.

“Thank you.”

Not sure what Blythe had thanked her for, she kept holding Blythe until sleep claimed her. Oddly, her usual nightmares didn’t show up.

Chapter Five

Blythe stirred, blinking at the bright light. Not sure where she was, and with a kink in the back of her neck, she sat up, pushing mussed tresses out of her eyes.

“Good morning. It’s actually a very good morning,” Evie said from where she stood by the window. The shutters were open again and the morning sun lit up the room. “The old oak is still intact.”

“Told you it was fine.” Clearing her throat, Blythe stood on unsteady legs. “Is that coffee in your mug?”

“Tea, actually. I put on that
and
coffee. Something told me you weren’t a tea person.”

“Very astute.” Relieved that the storm was over, she followed Evie to the kitchen. “Do you mind if I take my coffee with me when I shower?”

“No, not at all. I’ll make us some breakfast in the meantime. I’ve already had my shower.”

Blythe could tell. Evie’s long hair lay like a black waterfall along her back, still damp and sleek. She smelled even more of that clean soapy scent, dewy fresh. Her mug in hand, she headed for the bathroom. The hot shower relaxed her marginally, but she kept mentally rewinding last night’s confessionals. She’d ended up telling Evie more than she’d shared with anyone in years, if ever. It unnerved her and she questioned if she’d made a huge mistake. Her collaboration with Evie was all about Evie, about the female angle in a predominately male world. It wouldn’t be about her, about her past, or even her previous work. Her focus should be here and now, with Evie at the center of her attention. In the upcoming months, she would make Evie’s life, her way back into the NASCAR limelight, her priority.

A small voice insisted that the observer always injects herself into what she’s studying and thus becomes part of the equation. Blythe acknowledged that people tended to do this, but surely she could keep the temptation to a minimum. Evie shouldn’t have to listen to what pained Blythe from her past; it had nothing to do with the book. Stepping out of the shower, she quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a white golf shirt. Combing through her damp curls with her fingers, she took a few deep, cleansing breaths before returning to the kitchen.

Evie put scrambled eggs, bacon, and sliced tomato on a plate for Blythe. “I hope that’s okay?”

“It’s fine, thank you.” Blythe sat down and gazed out the window. “Amazing how fast things can change, isn’t it?”

Evie flinched and turned startled eyes toward her. “What do you mean?”

“The weather?” Curious about Evie’s reaction, Blythe watched her closely. “From that horrible storm to this.” She motioned with her fork toward the window.

“Oh. Right. Of course.” Evie colored faintly. “Yeah, here on the coast we’re used to it.”

“I’m from the coast too. I know.”

“Yeah? Where from?”

“South Carolina.”

“Oh, really?” Evie looked relieved to change the subject. “I think I told you I have a beach house on Pawleys Island.”

“I’ve been on the island many times. I used to walk along the dunes to photograph wildlife and the beach. It wasn’t quite as posh then.”

“I love it. My house is the last one on the street. It’s also fairly close to Darlington Raceway. About two hours.”

“So that’s where you do a lot of your training?”

“Yup.” Evie chewed on a strip of bacon. “It’s where I do all my final preparation for the first race of the season. I love spending time down there. It’s far enough away from the rest of the clan to be liberating.”

“You’re talking about your father’s side, I assume.”

“I guess I’m talking about my father, period. He has a way of butting in and expressing his views when it’s least helpful and most inappropriate.” Evie looked wistful. Her gaze suddenly lost in the distance out the window behind Blythe, she sighed. “Once all I wanted was his approval. You know, for him to acknowledge me and what I’ve achieved.”

“And now?”

“Now?” Evie’s upper lip curled in disdain. “Now I’m happier if he doesn’t show up or talk to me at all. Nothing he’s said in the last ten years has been even remotely supportive or nice. If it begins to mimic anything nice, I know it’s a trap. He’ll do a one-eighty so fast it makes my head spin and strips the skin off my face. I swear sometimes he’s not stable.”

Horrified at the coldness in Evie’s voice, Blythe extended her hand, placing it on Evie’s arm, as if she could will the warm person of last night to reappear.

Flinching, Evie looked dazedly at Blythe. “Sorry. I get weird when the subject of Mad Mal comes up. You can imagine what I’m like when he’s actually around.” Smiling with self-deprecation, Evie turned her hand and slid her arm back, clasping Blythe’s hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I wasn’t startled.”

“Yeah, you were. I can see it. I promise I don’t have a split personality or anything. I just have a very complex relationship with one of my parents.”

“I hear you. If it’s any consolation, I can relate to that. Only to both my parents.”

“Yeah? We should compare notes one day.” Evie’s eyes glittered warmly at Blythe, who couldn’t resist the allure of this woman who could reach her more than anyone had in many years. She returned the smile, and Evie grinned broadly.

“You could melt what’s left of the polar ice cap.” Blythe shook her head. “And I should’ve known pointing that fact out would make you frown instantly.”

“Any cheesy comment would.”

“Aw, I thought it was pretty inventive.”

“Go figure.” Blythe tried to sound sarcastic, but the smile she hid was tugging at the corners of her lips. “We need to look over next week’s schedule before I return to New York.”

“All right. I imagine you want to shoot my training sessions at the New Hampshire Motor Speedway?”

“Absolutely.”

“I go there on Tuesday.” Something tensed around Evie’s eyes.

“Oh. Your first time at a track since the crash?”

“Yes.” Swallowing hard, she let go of Blythe’s hand and flung her hair behind her shoulders in a defiant gesture. “That’s going to be interesting. I guess it’s one of those ‘defining moments’ Oprah talks about.”

“How do you mean?”

“Either I can do it—or I can’t. If I can’t even make myself drive around the racetrack all by my lonesome, then…?” Evie raised her hands, palms up. “I’m done racing.”

“I have faith in you.”

Evie looked sternly at Blythe for several moments before her expression softened marginally. “Thank you. Actually, I totally appreciate your comment. My team manager means well, but his exuberant, gushing reassurances make me wonder if he’s trying to convince himself or me.”

Blythe finished her breakfast and found that she wasn’t at all eager to drive back to New York. “I wonder if my car’s all right.”

“I poked my head out earlier. Doesn’t look like anything hit it.”

“Good.” Blythe stood and carried her plate and coffee mug over to the sink. “Thank you. Your scrambled eggs were really good. I’m a horrible cook, so I appreciate those who aren’t.”

“I enjoy cooking when I have the time.”

Suddenly their small talk seemed formal and stiff. Blythe hadn’t felt self-conscious since last night and the disappointment rolled over her in waves. She didn’t understand why until she fetched her overnight bag and stood in the hallway to say good-bye.
I don’t want to leave her.
Stunned, she fidgeted with the strap to her camera bag.

“Drive safely, Blythe.” Evie moved closer. “Bound to be a lot of stuff on the roads. Branches, garden chairs, roof tiles, you name it.”

“I will. Thanks for having me.”

“Anytime.” As polite as the comment sounded, the way Evie emphasized the word made Blythe relax more.

Impulsively, and so utterly unlike herself, she stood on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on Evie’s cheek. “See you Tuesday. Text or call me when you know exactly what time.”

“I will.” Evie’s eyes darkened with unspoken emotions, but she smiled gently as she nodded. “Bye.”

As Blythe drove away from the house, her mind whirled with thoughts of the previous night and the revealing morning. Almost dizzy, she gripped the steering wheel harder. When had she opened up to someone else at all, let alone so quickly? Apart from her mentor, Pearl, Blythe couldn’t think of anyone who knew more than basic information about her. To think that she’d freely given Evie access to such private matters, and also that Evie had shared similar things about herself, rocked the very foundation on which Blythe built her life.

She made her life work by ensuring she was safe behind an imaginary, but very real, wall. If she didn’t let anyone in, then she didn’t give anyone any leverage against her. A hard-learned life lesson, but one that Evie’s survival instinct had provided her with. Until now. Their conversations might not seem like much, she mused, but it was as if the world’s axis had shifted. Everything seemed new.

Chapter Six

Evie viewed the sleek, red Dodge Viper with equal parts affection and terror. Brand-new, provided by her sponsors, it had just been backed out of the trailer by the team and sat there looking exactly like the car she’d driven into the pileup of burning cars and injured drivers.

“Oh, God,” she murmured, swallowing against the bitter taste in the back of her throat.

She tugged at the fastening of her inflammable suit. Surely her old suit wasn’t this tight?

“Isn’t it a beauty?” Ben Mason, her team manager of several years, grinned. With an impressive mustache, white hair, and slate gray eyes, he was ruggedly handsome, but mainly the one Evie trusted implicitly when it came to her racing career. “The paint job is nothing short of amazing. What do you think, Evie?” His face fell when she didn’t respond immediately. “Evie?”

“Gorgeous.” Her mouth dry, she found it hard to wrap her tongue around words. “She’s amazing.”

“You okay, kiddo?” His eyes darkened as he stepped closer and gently held her elbow. “Your time slot begins as soon as O’Brien’s off the track.”

“I’m fine.” Ignoring the chilling drops of sweat that slid down her spine, she slapped her gloves repeatedly against her thigh.

“There’s the photographer. Damn, you sure that’s a good idea?” Ben rubbed his neck, glaring at Blythe approaching with her equipment.

“What do you mean?”

“As if you’re not reminded enough of the crash.” He clearly wasn’t pleased.

“Having Blythe around won’t make it worse.” In fact, Evie was relieved to see her and walked over to her. “You made it.”

“It was a bitch to get out of New York, but yes. I did. Glad I planned for an extra hour, or you would’ve been finished.”

“That long on the road, huh?” Evie winced. “You going back to New York tonight?”

“No, just to New Haven. I’m staying there this week.” Blythe smiled, in a faint but so very charming way. “Just go about what you’re here to do. I’ll work around you. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

“Actually. Um. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got last-minute jitters.”

Blythe stopped unpacking her gear and looked closely at her. “You’re pale. I can understand that you’re apprehensive. I felt the tension just now, entering the racetrack, and I’m not the one driving.” Blythe took her hand briefly. “You’ve done this so many times. Just remember why you love driving and go make love to that stunning car.” Blythe’s cheekbones turned pink. “Hmm. You know what I mean.”

“Make love to the car?” She looked at Blythe and couldn’t believe what she’d just said. “You come up with the most unlikely comments sometimes.”

“Uh. Sorry?”

“No, no. I liked it.” Evie grinned. “Make love to the car,” she said to herself as she walked back to Ben. “That’s a first.”

“Well, now. Whatever she said, clearly she got through to you.”

“Yeah.” Shaking her hair back, she put it in a tight, low bun before donning her balaclava and her helmet. She made sure she could hear Ben through the intercom and put on her gloves. Without any hesitation she slid through the window opening, feet first.