One Sweet Ride - Page 36/37

Alicia leaned over and laid her hand on his. “Gray. It doesn’t matter who you are or what your circumstances are. Love is never easy. But if she’s worth it, you’ll find a way to make it work.”

He missed Evelyn. He’d always enjoyed kicking back and relaxing here at his beach house. Right now he was frustrated because he couldn’t even be at the track until he was more mobile, but he was thinking more about Evelyn than racing, and for him, having a woman take precedence over his career was a first. That meant something.

It meant she was worth fighting for.

He would make this work.

“I have an idea or two. I want to run it by you both and you can tell me if you think it sucks or not.”

Alicia grinned. “You know I’d love to help. I want you to be happy.”

“I don’t care if you’re happy or not,” Garrett said. “But I do like the view here, man, so if it means we get to stay a little longer, I’m all ears.”

“Garrett,” Alicia warned.

Gray laughed, knowing Garrett would bend over backward to help him out. “I knew I could count on you, Alicia. Garrett, you’re on beer duty.”

“Done. Beer for me and Alicia, lemonade and a pain pill for you.”

“You’re so funny.”

“Okay, seriously,” Garrett said. “I’m happy to lend an ear or do whatever I can to see true love prevail.” Garrett sent a look over at Alicia that had her smiling in return.

Yeah, this love stuff? Well worth the struggle if it meant Evelyn would look at him the way Alicia looked at Garrett.

“I like the two of you together,” Gray said. “He was cranky the last time I saw him.”

“He’s still cranky,” Alicia said. “But he has his moments.”

“She loves me, so she’s blind to my faults.”

“I’m not that blind, buddy,” Alicia said. “Remember, I’ve seen you at your worst.”

“True that. That’s how I knew you were a keeper.”

Gray laughed. “Yeah, anyone who could put up with Garrett at his worst and loves him anyway? You should get a medal, Alicia.”

Alicia grinned and cast a look at Garrett. “I don’t need a medal. I got the guy.”

Garrett grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I love you too, babe.”

“Jesus,” Gray said. “Any more of this and I’m going to have to find my crutches and give you two some alone time. Can we get back to me and Evelyn now?”

“Sure,” Garrett said. “Let’s get you and Evelyn that happily ever after.”

THIRTY

EVELYN DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TIME TO BREATHE.

After the convention, they’d gone back to Washington. She’d unpacked, sent everything to the dry cleaners, and barely had time to renew her acquaintance with her apartment before they were on the campaign trail.

Not that travel was unusual for her. But this was a presidential campaign, and it was the big time—everything she’d hoped and dreamed for.

Mitchell was fabulous, and working with Governor Cameron’s team was syncing up beautifully. They had high hopes that, come November, the governor would be the new president. The polls were strong because the Cameron/Mitchell team was in high favor.

They were due in Florida for a campaign stop, and as they hit Fort Lauderdale, Evelyn pondered the proximity to Daytona Beach, her thoughts gravitating to Gray.

Not that her thoughts didn’t center on him every single day anyway.

She’d assumed once the campaign started it would be easy to forget about him, that she’d be way too busy to think about him, and she’d get over the hurt.

That wasn’t happening.

She missed him. Her body craved his touch. She missed sleeping with him at night and sharing her thoughts and ideas with him. She missed the sound of his voice, missed arguing with him about every topic under the sun. She missed the way he laughed, the way his smile made her entire body tingle.

She missed racing and found herself scanning the sports outlets for news about how Preston Racing’s team was doing.

Alex Reed, who was currently driving the number fifty-three, had placed fifteenth in the last race. Pretty darn good considering he was new in the car. And Donny had placed fifth. Great for Gray’s team. She was happy for him and he must be frustrated as hell not to be there, not to be racing or even be at the track.

She missed seeing him in his fire suit. God, he looked good zipped up in that thing, and even better out of it.

Her body reacted instantly and she pushed the visuals aside.

It was time for her to get a grip. She and Gray were over. Some day she’d run for office herself and match up with some representative or senator or lawyer and they’d have similar careers in Washington and it would make so much more sense for her future.

How utterly . . . boring.

She shuddered out a sigh and buried herself in work at the local campaign stop.

When her phone rang, she smiled as Carolina’s name popped up.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Carolina said. “Fort Lauderdale, right?”

“Yup. Where are you?”

“In D.C., actually. You’re flying back in tonight?”

“Yes. This is the last of our Florida stops.”

“Can we have lunch when you get back?”

“Hang on. Let me check my schedule.” She did a quick check. If she adjusted a few things . . . “Yes, I can definitely do that.”

“Awesome. How about one o’clock?”

“Perfect.” They made plans to meet.

It would be nice to spend a lunch hour with Carolina. She needed some downtime, even if it was only an hour or two.

And maybe Carolina would fill her in on how Gray was doing. Evelyn and the senator were busy on the campaign, and she refused to constantly ask him about Gray.

They were over and done with, so it was best to cut those ties.

*

THE NEXT DAY HER MORNING WAS FULL GETTING caught up at the main office, so she had to hustle to the restaurant to meet Carolina, who as usual looked fresh and well put together in a bright sheath dress with a beautiful scarf.

“You look gorgeous,” Evelyn said, kissing Carolina’s cheek.

“You look like you could use a nap.”

They sat at the table at the outdoor café in Georgetown and sipped tea and had salads. Carolina filled her in on what was going on with her fashion line, but they mainly talked about the senator and the election.

“You’re busy,” Carolina said in between bites of chicken salad.

“Understatement. I haven’t slept.”

“But this is what you wanted.”

“It is. I have no complaints.”

“And have you seen Gray?”

She took a deep breath. “No. Unfortunately, that’s over.”

“Is it? Why?”

She shrugged. “We’re just worlds apart.”

Carolina laughed. “Oh, that excuse. Did you even try, or did you get cold feet?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. And hey, why did you assume the breakup was my fault?”

“Because I know you. You’d look for any excuse to not make it work. ‘Oh, he’s a lawyer, it would never work between us.’ ‘Oh, he’s not a lawyer, it would never work between us.’ ‘Oh, we’re from two different worlds, it would never work between us.’” She laid the back of her hand against her forehead for dramatic emphasis.

“I am not like that at all.” She paused, then cocked her head to the side. “Am I?”

“I think you look for reasons not to be in love because you’re afraid it’ll threaten your lifelong career goals, and if you do fall in love, God forbid you might have to compromise.”

Evelyn set her fork down. “I do not do that. Do I?”

Carolina shrugged. “I’m biased in this regard because Gray is my brother and he’s a giant pain in the ass, but I love him. And I think you do, too. So what did he do that was so terrible?”

“You knew he was at the suite the week of the convention, didn’t you?”

“Yes. But he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you worrying about him being hurt when that was your big week.” Carolina’s eyes widened. “That was it? That’s why you broke up with him?”

Hearing it from Carolina made her sound petty and selfish. “I could have handled it, you know.”

“You’d have been a basket case. Hell, you were a basket case even without dealing with Gray and his injuries. So he was being thoughtful and you kicked him to the curb.”

Evelyn twirled the glass of iced tea around with both hands. “You make me sound like such a heartless bitch.”

Carolina laughed. “Not at all. Honey, I’m sorry. It’s just that I think you’re so afraid of love and commitment and what it might mean for your future goals. Come on, take a chance. My brother’s not a bad guy, you know.”

Her head shot up. “Of course he isn’t, Carolina. God, do you have any idea how much I love him?”

“Well, no, I don’t. The question is, does he have any idea how much you love him?”

Tears pricked her eyes. “Oh, you bitch. Now look what you’re doing to me.” She fished in her purse for a tissue.

Carolina’s lips curved. “Oh, you’re melting, you’re melting. What a cruel, cruel world . . .”

“So not funny.”

“Give it up, Evelyn. You’re in love. Throw your lot in with my big bad brother and see how it goes.”

She sighed. “You’re right. I have to throw in the towel. In the midst of this utter chaos, where I’m surprised I can even remember to put my underwear on the right way every day, I still can’t get him out of my head. Or my heart.”

“Dammit. Now I’m going to get all weepy.” Carolina held out her hand, and Evelyn passed her a tissue.

Carolina was right, though. She had purposely evaded the one person she loved, had put that road block up so she wouldn’t have to deal with being in love with him, when there was no avoiding it.

And now she had to face it—face him—and finally do something about it.

THIRTY-ONE

FINDING A WOMAN ATTACHED TO A SENATOR IN THE midst of a presidential campaign was a lot like finding a lost contact lens in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

They were like moving targets, rarely in one place for long before picking up stakes and heading into new territory.

Fortunately, Gray had a pretty good “in” with the vice presidential candidate, so he called his dad and found out they were in D.C. for the day, but they’d be heading out the next afternoon for Colorado.

Travel sucked, but at least he was off the crutches now and in a walking cast, and his ribs had healed enough that he could more or less breathe again without feeling like ten swords were simultaneously stabbing him.

His dad told him that Evelyn was either at the campaign headquarters or at her apartment where she sometimes worked when she needed quiet time. Gray wanted to surprise her, so he tried the campaign headquarters first. Since it was late afternoon, he figured he’d find her there, but one of the staffers told him she was working at home today. So he climbed back into the private car he’d hired and gave them the address to her apartment.

Taking a deep breath—or as deep as he could take with his fucked-up ribs—he rang the bell to her apartment.

“Yes?” she answered at the speaker.

“Hey.”

“Gray?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my God. Come in. Do you need help?”

“Just buzz me in, Evelyn.” Though he was really happy she was on the first level and not the third.

She buzzed and he moved to open the door. She was already there, opening the door for him.

“What are you doing here?”

She was in her suit, though she’d removed the jacket, leaving her in a pencil skirt and silk blouse, very similar to the first time he’d met her. Her hair was pulled up and she looked professional—and gorgeous.

“Thought I’d drop by. If that’s okay.”

“It’s very okay. Come in and sit down.”

She shut the door and he made his way to the most comfortable-looking chair in her living room.

“No crutches?”

“No. I hated those damn things,” he said as he put his leg up in the reclining chair.

“I harassed the doctors into getting me off of them as soon as possible.”

“I’m glad. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water would be good.”

She hurried into the kitchen—she seemed nervous, which kind of made him happy since he was nervous as hell.

She brought him the water, which he downed in about three gulps. God, his throat was dry. This was like his first date all over again. He set the glass on the table next to the chair.

She took a seat on the small sofa and clasped her hands together.

“Been busy?” he asked.

“Very. You?”

“Not at all.”

She gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry. I know how frustrating that must be for you.”

He shrugged. “I’m dealing with it. Alex is a good driver, though. He’ll finish out the season for the number fifty-three decently enough, and I’ll be back in the car in time for Daytona in February.”

“Are you healing well?”

“Doctors all say I’m doing fine, but I’m restless. It’s hard for me to just sit and . . .

heal.”

“But it’s important that you don’t push yourself.”