Jon fired up the engine and looked over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking spot. “I find life is a little more exciting when you introduce some spontaneity. Where are we going?”
Leaning her head back against the seat, Patti let her head fall to the side and took in Jon’s strong profile. Where were they going? She had no idea, but wherever they ended up, she had a feeling it was going to be an adventure and she wasn’t all together sure how she’d fare at the end of it.
“Patti?” Jon turned his head to look at her. “Left or right?”
Blinking away her thoughts, Patti pointed. “Right.”
11
Jon wasn’t sure whether he should be thrilled or freaked the hell out. Patti’s idea of fun was heart-stopping torture for him.
Standing tall, his chest out and his chin held high, no one would be the wiser that he was on the verge of having a total meltdown. Trying not to put her hand in a death grip, Jon allowed Patti to drag him toward the Raceway gates. The ticket master, a paunchy, middle-aged man with a comb over held out his hand, and she dropped two tickets into his sweaty palm.
“Enjoy the race,” the man said in a monotone voice that suggested he hated every single moment of his job.
Patti’s head twisted around and she beamed up at him. “Ready?”
Not in the slightest, but he bobbed his head anyway. “Absolutely. Lead the way.”
Unlike the races he’d attended in the past, the stands weren’t overly packed. There were bodies sprinkled around the bleachers overlooking the strip of pavement below, but there were wide-open spaces available, making it look as though it were on the verge of being empty.
“Drag racing isn’t as big as NASCAR or Indy, but they still have a pretty strong fan base,” Patti explained as they made their way down.
He didn’t need the explanation. Jon knew everything there was to know about the sport, but he kept his lips sealed.
His anxiety crept higher with each step they took. By the time Patti selected a row of empty benches, they were a mere three levels above where the action would take place.
“So,” Patti said as she settled in and crossed her legs. “What do you think? Are you surprised?”
Jon cast a look around. On the strip below were two paved lanes that extended from one end of the arena to the other. At the head sat two souped-up cars surrounded by various crewmembers responsible for the success of each race.
“It’s great.” Leaning in, he placed a gentle kiss against her lips. “Thank you.”
As he pulled away, he noticed the slight crease that had formed between her brows. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he assured her. Reaching up, he smoothed a finger over the tiny furrow. He knew she was picking up on his apprehension and that was the last thing he wanted to have happen.
“Sometimes I forget that not everyone gets as excited about cars as I do,” she continued, worry making her voice pitch a little higher.
“I like cars,” Jon returned.
“Well, duh,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Doesn’t every guy like cars?”
Jon lifted his shoulder. “I doubt that every guy does, but I definitely do.”
Patti turned to him with a serious expression on her face. “Jon, you drive a Ford.”
Jon leaned in. “Yes,” he agreed with an equally serious face. “But I used to drive a ’71 Dodge Challenger.”
A knowing smile stretched across his face at Patti’s sudden intake of breath. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you just got a hundred degrees hotter.”
Covering her knee with his hand, Jon let his palm smooth up her bare thigh. Pressing the side of his body against hers, he clasped her neck with his free hand, drawing her closer. His lips met hers in an open-mouth kiss and when their tongues touched, he released a moan from the surge of pleasure that shot straight to his crotch.
Breaking away before he took her right there, Jon licked the sweet taste of her strawberry lip balm from his lips. “I hope you don’t have any plans after this, because after that kiss I’m not letting you go any time soon.”
Patti’s response was drowned out by the sudden ear-splitting roar of two very powerful engines. Jon gave her knee a squeeze and tried to ignore the pounding of his heart as he turned his attention to the race below.
A pristine white Mustang with two thick, black racing stripes running down the center that harkened back to the eighties, rolled up alongside a mint condition Camaro painted a cherry red from the same era. Their engines purred as they aligned themselves with the starting line on the narrow drag strip. Between them, a tower of lights that resembled a Christmas tree flicked to yellow.
Heart hammering in his chest, Jon braced himself.
As a kid, he’d always been a fan of anything having to do with cars. He had an extensive collection of Matchbox, which later grew to include Hot Wheels, until the day he’d gotten his driver’s license, and his dad had surprised him with a sweet ’82 Firebird for his sixteenth birthday. His mother hadn’t been too thrilled about it, convinced that he’d wreck it the minute he set tire to pavement, but he’d surprised them all by lasting a whole four and a half months before wrapping it around a median.
Undeterred, he’d saved up enough money working odd jobs all over town to purchase the Charger. Soon thereafter, he’d developed a love of speed along with other boys his age, and to feed their appetites, they’d pooled their time and resources into putting together a makeshift track that used to serve as a horse run up at an old abandoned farm. It was in the middle of nowhere, so they never had to worry about the cops showing up unexpectedly, but in the end, that had ended up being their downfall.
Despite the sickening feeling drawn up by his past, Jon couldn’t deny the spark of intrigue he felt niggling at the base of his brain. The deep growl of the engines made his chest tight and the smell of burning rubber that hung in the air was a seductive tease to his senses. It was appalling and alluring all at once—the last things Jon ever wanted to feel again.
Deep down, Jon knew his feeling about the race, and cars, and everything that the two entailed stemmed from the bone-deep fear that had settled in long ago. He’d been reckless then, and he’d built a wall to prevent himself from repeating past mistakes, but he always knew it would just be a matter of time before he’d be forced to face it. He’d just hoped like hell that day would never come.
Now that he found himself sitting there, a beautiful woman on his arm who wore a smile so big it was damn near painful to witness, Jon felt torn.
Ahead, the lights flicked down. When the green light flared, the cars’ tires screamed, kicking up large plumes of white smoke. Then they shot off down the track. Jon’s jaw clenched.
On the one hand, Jon knew the reason for the gut-wrenching fear and guilt assailing him as the cars sped by was left over from the past that he’d tried to bury and forget. Clearly, that hadn’t worked out so well. On the other hand, Jon wanted nothing more than to keep that illuminating, excitement-filled smile on Patti’s face.
As he stared at her profile, taking in the gentle slope of her nose, the roundness of her cheeks, the curve of her lips as they turned up at the corners, and how they shifted with each new expression, he realized with sudden clarity that his fear had nothing to do with the cars or the speed. It had everything to do with the damage he’d sustained to his mind and soul that night.
He’d made himself into a victim. That’s what everyone had told him, but he was only now realizing it. He’d set aside everything that had ever held his interest. He’d cleaved away the one thing he’d ever truly been passionate about like a rotten limb. The severance had left a hollow place inside of him where the painful memories echoed like hungry ghosts.