Overheated

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE NEXT DAY AT THE RACE track at Dover, Larry was torn between puffing his chest out to strut and keeping a respectful distance between him and Crystal. As they crossed the walkover bridge to the infield area, she twined her arm around his, and there was no denying it felt good. She was a gorgeous woman, and more than a few male heads turned admiringly her way as they ambled toward the garage area.

She was wearing a pair of beige slacks and a simple, pale-yellow top. Her shoes were low, but her legs were long and shapely enough that she didn’t need the boost of heels. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail, then tugged it through the back of a tan baseball cap, anchoring the hat to her head. Her earrings were simple gold studs, her other jewelry nonexistent. But it didn’t matter. She still looked like that model who’d somehow wandered off that Paris runway.

Then he spotted his nephew Kent and crew chief Neil Sanchez coming the other way, their heads bent in an intense discussion. He smoothly and quickly disentangled his arm from Crystal and put some distance between them.

“Hey, Kent,” he said, nodding. “Good luck today.” Larry knew his son Steve wouldn’t be spotting for Kent at the Dover race because of the suspension last week. But, distracted by his reunion with his fiancée, Heidi, Steve was handling the disappointment very well. Larry had talked to Steve during the week, offering advice where he could. After a breakup over Kent’s sponsor and the NASCAR lifestyle, shortly after becoming engaged, Steve and Heidi were both so angry that it took all of the Grosso clan to help straighten it out. Larry was extremely happy that his son was back on track.

Kent glanced up and blinked Larry into focus.

“Oh. Hi, Larry.” Kent’s gaze slid briefly to Crystal, but he didn’t seem to recognize her.

“Hi, Larry,” Neil offered, but there was a tightness around his mouth as the two men kept walking.

“What are you doing?” Crystal asked Larry.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never had a man embarrassed to be seen with me before.”

“I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you.” The mere thought was ludicrous.

She gestured back to Kent and Neil. “Then what the hell was that all about?”

Larry pretended to misunderstand. “You think they were arguing?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“Seriously,” said Larry. “I think they were fighting about something.”

“You’re going to be fighting about something in a minute if you don’t smarten up.”

Larry tried to lighten the mood. “You’re telling a rocket scientist to smarten up?”

“I am when he’s behaving like a moron.”

He sighed, knowing full well she was talking about how he’d distanced himself from her when he saw familiar faces. “I was trying to be discreet. There’s no need to start gossip.”

“I don’t care about gossip.”

“Well, you should. NASCAR is a tight-knit community.”

“Is this an age thing?”

“This is an ‘I don’t want to announce our private business to the world’ thing.”

Her lips compressed. “You were perfectly fine until Kent came along.”

“We were an anonymous couple until Kent came along.”

“So, we’re going to have a secret affair. Is that it?”

No, that wasn’t it. Of course he didn’t want a secret affair. He didn’t want an affair at all. Trouble was, until he figured out exactly what was going on between him and Crystal, he didn’t know how to present it to the world-or his family.

“Because I can be discreet,” she told him, taking a backward step away from him. “I can be so discreet, you won’t even know I’m here.”

“Crystal.”

She took a second step, and said, in a voice low and intense, “You want to hide me out at some beach house at night then pretend not to know me during the day-”

“Stop!” He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. He took the two strides that separated them. “I want this to be dignified.”

“It is dignified. Or at least it was until two minutes ago.”

He lifted off his cap and dragged a hand through his hair. “You want to tell people we’re dating?”

“Is that what we’re doing?”

“See?” he hissed. “We don’t even know what to call it.”

“Do we have to give it a label?”

“If we don’t, they will.”

“So, let them.”

“Are you serious?” Did she know what kind of speculation that would cause?

“Oh look,” she said, nodding over his shoulder. “There’s Dean and Patsy.”

Larry twisted his head around.

“Hi, Dean. Hi, Patsy,” Crystal called with a wave.

Then, before Larry could react, she snagged his arm, pulled herself up and gave him a nuzzling kiss in the crook of his neck.

His body clenched in horror.

“Speculate that,” she muttered under her breath.

“I don’t believe you did that,” he growled, shaking free as he turned to meet his brother and sister-in-law.

Dean’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Patsy’s were wide with surprise.

“Crystal,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see you this far from Charlotte.”

“Larry invited me,” said Crystal, and Larry tensed, waiting to see what other information she was about to offer up.

“We’ve been discussing a writing project I’m working on,” she finished.

“What project is that?” asked Dean, eyeing Larry up and down.

“A cookbook,” Crystal supplied. “I saw you had a good race in Charlotte,” she said to Dean.

Eyes still hard, Dean opened his mouth.

“Thank you,” Patsy put in, forestalling whatever it was Dean had been about to say, and earning a scowl from her husband. “The charity walk went well this morning,” she continued, directing her attention to Crystal. “I understand Softco made a nice donation.”

“Missed you there,” Dean said to Larry, innuendo sharp in his tone.

“I’ll be sending a check,” Larry added, refusing to rise to his brother’s bait.

“So what were the two of-”

Patsy nudged her husband with her shoulder, talking overtop of him. “Will you be joining me in the motor home later?”

“We might head up to Alan Cargill’s skybox,” Larry offered, feeling Crystal’s immediate and disapproving glare. “It’s a little hot down here. Hope you don’t mind but we dropped off Crystal’s dog at your motor home.”

“That’s fine. It’s the best place for him,” Patsy said. “Well, we’d better get going. We don’t want to be late for the driver introductions.”

“Have a good race,” Larry said to Dean, offering his hand.

“Good luck,” Crystal echoed.

“Thanks,” said Dean with a shake, but his expression told Larry they’d be talking later.

Larry watched them melt into the crowd. “See what I mean?” he said to Crystal.

“Are we going to hide up in the sky box and pretend we’re just friends?”

He thought about that. “Maybe.” Couldn’t hurt. At least for a while.

“You plan to see me again?” She leaned her shoulder to his, tipping up to whisper in his ear. “You plan to sleep with me again?”

He couldn’t deny that. “Absolutely.”

“What are the odds we can keep it a secret?”

“I’d have to write an algorithm to know for sure.”

“Ballpark it.”

“You trying to beat me at my own game?”

“You bet.”

He gave in with a harsh sigh. She was right. If they spent any amount of time together, their relationship was going to become public knowledge, at the very least public speculation. Hiding was a bad plan.

“Fine.” He agreed, deciding they should ease people into the idea. “We can wander around the infield. We can hold hands. But no public kissing. We’re not teenagers, and there are members of the press around here. As you know, the press loves my famous family.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” she muttered.

He held back a smile. “You do that.”

“But we’re kissing later.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t care if we have to park the rental car behind a warehouse or hide out in an airport restroom.”

“I’m not going into the ladies’ room. And you’re damn sure not going into the men’s room.”

“Do you academics get paid by the debate?”

“We do.”

“It shows.”

He took her hand. “Then explain to me why you keep winning.”

CRYSTAL WATCHED WITH RISING excitement as Kent Grosso hurtled his No. 427 car toward the finish line, trying to pass his father who was in the lead. Three cars were vying for the top spot. Dean was barely holding on to the lead as they tucked into Turn Two. Dean’s No. 414 car went high. Kent went low, and the third car struggled to find an opening in the middle.

The checkered flag was out, and she gripped Larry’s hand tightly as the announcer’s voice rose with excitement. The crowd was on its feet and the spectators on the infield crowded the fence, while the cars hurtled down the straightaway.

She held her breath as the three contenders drove into Turn Three. Dean held on, held on, held on.

He made it out of the turn, sticking solidly to the race track as he covered the final stretch to the line.

“And he does it!” shouted the announcer as a hundred and fifty thousand spectators filled the air with cheers. “Dean Grosso hangs on to take the checkered flag and win the race.”

Crystal whooped out a cheer and threw her arms around Larry. He hugged her tight, lifting her right off the ground.

“What a race,” she breathed. “Dean first and Kent second.”

Larry gave her a peck on the cheek, proud of his nephew. “When it comes together, it comes together.”

“Are you sorry Steve wasn’t spotting?” she asked, while Larry lowered her back to the ground.

The remaining cars whined past the start/finish line while Dean did a celebratory burnout to the roaring delight of the capacity crowd.

“He screwed up last week. No getting around that. He knows enough to be a man about it. Besides-” Larry gave her a wry smile “-I suspect Heidi’s doing a bang-up job of consoling him. And his team did get the points. The Chase is coming up fast.”

“And the points count above everything else,” Crystal agreed.

“You’ve got the picture,” said Larry. “Victory Lane?”

“You bet.” She fell into step beside him as they followed the surge of the crowd.

By the time they grew close enough to see the action at Victory Lane, Dean was climbing out of the race car, donning a Smoothtone Music hat. Team members clapped him in a hug as he was handed the trophy, which he hoisted in the air.

The Maximus Motorsports team had surrounded Victory Lane, and they were all grinning ear to ear.

“I should go congratulate the team,” Larry shouted in Crystal’s ear, taking her arm to steer her in that direction.

“You go,” she shouted back, disentangling.

“I’ll introduce you,” said Larry, obviously trying to make up for his earlier reluctance to acknowledge her.

But Crystal shook her head. “It’s the team’s moment. And we’re not sure how they feel about me.”

Larry’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“I’ll be right here when you get back.”

He opened his mouth to argue.

“Go,” she insisted with a little shove. “Celebrate with them for a bit.”

“If you’re sure.” Larry took a couple of backward steps.

She gave him a nod, since there was no way her voice would be heard above the crowd. Then she watched him disappear, and her gaze shifted toward the team.

“Enjoying Larry’s company?” came Patsy’s voice directly beside her.

Crystal quickly turned to see the woman’s knowing smirk.

“I’m glad Dean won today,” Crystal offered.

Patsy beamed with pride. “Both of my boys. It’s a good day.” Both women glanced to the No. 414 car, where Dean was playfully spraying champagne on his team.

“But Dean’s not getting any younger,” Patsy continued, a flash of annoyance coloring her eyes.

“Is he thinking about-”

“Tell me about Larry,” Patsy put in smoothly, the anger disappeared as fast as it had risen. She linked her arm with Crystal’s and a twinkle came into her sky-blue eyes.

“He went over to congratulate the team,” Crystal offered.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Crystal blinked, hoping against hope that Patsy would back off.

“I meant,” Patsy elaborated, “now that my husband isn’t glaring daggers at the two of you, what’s going on?”

Crystal chose her words carefully. “We’re getting to know each other.”

“And how’s that going?”

“It’s going well,” said Crystal, her gaze involuntarily falling on Larry where he was shaking a crew member’s hand. He pulled another one back into a back-slapping hug.

“I sense a certain-” Patsy paused, waving a descriptive hand through the air “-energy between the two of you.”

Crystal held a quick mental debate with herself. She and Patsy weren’t exactly friends. But she had seen the woman on and off for most of her life, and she certainly trusted her.

“We’re trying to keep it low-key,” she finally offered.

“Why?”

“Larry’s self-conscious.”

“Libby’s been gone for three years.”

“It’s the age thing.”

“Ironic,” Patsy offered with a grimace.

“How do you mean?”

“One brother thinks he’s on the shelf, the other refuses to accept his own mortality.”

“You’d like Dean to retire?” Crystal guessed. The rumors had been flying fast and furious within the NASCAR world. Dean refused to admit this was his last season, but there was speculation none the less.

“I’ve begged him to retire,” said Patsy. “Wisdom and experience will only get you so far. It also takes strength and agility to stay out of the wall.”

Crystal privately acknowledged there was nothing in the world wrong with Larry’s strength and agility.

“What?” prompted Patsy.

“Huh?” Crystal asked in return, embarrassed by the wayward direction of her thoughts.

“Something made you smile.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Seems like a pretty entertaining nothing.”

“Just remembering something that happened this morning.”

“Fair enough,” said Patsy. “I’ll back off. I’m just grateful you’re making Larry so happy. He looks so relaxed. Almost as if…” Patsy’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed a perfect O.

Crystal felt her face heat up.

“You didn’t,” said Patsy, leaning in, in an obvious effort to keep the conversation private.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Crystal said.

“Never mind.” Patsy waved away her words. “Don’t tell me. None of my business.” Then her gaze strayed to Larry. “But, you did.”

“Patsy-”

“Well, thank goodness.”

Crystal’s brows shot up.

“The man needed something to get him back in the swing.”

“Oh, he’s back in the swing,” Crystal admitted.

Patsy’s grin grew wide.

“I can’t believe I said that.”

Patsy’s hand came down comfortingly on Crystal’s shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“It just, kind of…” Crystal watched Larry joking in the midst of the chaos. “…happened,” Crystal finished, thinking Larry was, by far, the sexiest man at the race track.

Patsy was silent, and when Crystal glanced at her, she looked pensive. Maybe she wasn’t as supportive of the relationship as she pretended. In which case, Crystal might have done Larry a disservice by her admission.

“Something wrong?” she asked Patsy.

The woman gave her head a little shake and pasted on a smile. “Nothing at all.”

“Seriously,” said Crystal, looking closer, deciding it had to be something more serious than Patsy’s brother-in-law’s love life. It occurred to Crystal that Dean might have some kind of health problem. Maybe it was something that could compromise his ability to race. And maybe she should mind her own business. “I didn’t mean to pry,” she told Patsy apologetically.

But Patsy laughed. “Two minutes ago, we were discussing your sex life with my brother-in-law. I don’t know how it gets too personal after that.”

“Is Dean okay?”

A moment passed.

“There’s nothing worse than a twenty-five-year-old man in a forty-nine-year-old body.”

Just then, Dean emerged in Victory Lane, pulling his son into an enthusiastic hug.

“He obviously loves the sport,” said Crystal.

“And I’d love him just as much in any other career.”

Crystal’s heart went out to the woman. “You’re really worried, aren’t you?”

Patsy nodded. “Every single time he straps into that car and puts on his helmet.” She paused. “It didn’t used to be like this.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” asked Crystal.

“Until I’m blue in the face. I’m so-” Her voice broke. “Sorry.”

Crystal wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tipping her head close to Patsy’s. “Don’t be sorry. You love him.”

“I’m afraid,” Patsy confessed, “that his reflexes aren’t what they used to be. He thinks he’s immune to aging, and the win today supports that.”

“The sport is safer than ever,” Crystal tried.

“I know every safety feature, every precaution. But they’re still going 180 miles an hour.”

It was true. Even with harnesses, helmets, roll cages and fire protection, there were still risks.

“Experience doesn’t change the laws of physics,” Patsy finished on a bitter note.

“Mom,” came Kent’s shout of joy as he emerged from the Victory Lane crowd.

He rushed forward, lifting Patsy into a tight hug and spinning her around.

Her face instantly lit up. “Way to go, sweetheart.” She hugged him tight.

Crystal backed off a step or two, watching Dean join his family. Patsy saw him and immediately hugged him, all worrying pushed aside by love.

“Sorry I took so long,” came Larry’s deep voice next to Crystal’s ear.

Something inside her instantly relaxed. “No problem. They look pretty excited.”

“It was well earned.”

“What now?” asked Crystal as more team members joined Kent and his parents.

“Well, we only had the beach house for one night,” said Larry.

“So, that’s out,” Crystal agreed.

“A motel on the Interstate?” he playfully suggested, taking her hand and leading her through the crowd toward the exit.

“We’d miss our plane.”

“Good point. Your place when we get back?”

Crystal cringed. “My parents have a key, and they’ve been known to randomly drop in.”

“Ouch,” said Larry.

“Um-hmm,” Crystal agreed, shifting closer to him as the press of bodies closed in.

“This been a problem before?”

She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “None of your business. But no, it hasn’t been a problem before. I only moved into the apartment after Simon died.”

“Two years?”

“Got a problem with that?” She was willing to bet he hadn’t been sexually active since his wife’s death.

“No. But…” He eyed her up and down. “I know you don’t like hearing this, but you’re drop-dead gorgeous.”

“That means I should be promiscuous?”

“You’re an adult, Crystal. It’s not promiscuous to have a healthy sex life.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with being particular, either.”

Larry shifted her in front of him as they climbed the stairs to the walk over the bridge. At the top, he leaned forward to speak in her ear. “I have no idea why we’re having this argument. What I meant to say was, ‘good for you. You have every right to be particular, and I’m glad you were particular.’” A teasing note came into his voice. “Right up until me, of course.”

“Yeah,” she drawled. “I was obviously feeling charitable last night.”

He moved up beside her as the crowd on the other side of the bridge thinned out. “And what about now? How are you feeling now?”

“Charitable,” she confirmed with a nod. “Extremely and completely charitable. Your place?”

There was silence.

She glanced at his profile. “What?”

He breathed out a sigh. “Libby’s bed.”

Crystal squeezed her eyes shut for a second, regretting her stupidity.

“Maybe that’s silly,” he offered.

She wrapped her hand around his upper arm. “It’s not silly at all. It’s sweet and respectful.”

They passed the concessions, heading for Dean’s motor home to pick up Rufus.

Larry snaked an arm around her shoulders and tugged her close. “But I have another idea.”

“That’s what I love about a rocket scientist, always thinking.”

“Ever been to Myrtle Pond?”

CRYSTAL DIDN’T KNOW WHICH surprised her more, that Larry owned a ramshackle, old Victorian home at Myrtle Pond or that he piloted a plane. They’d picked up his Cessna at the Charlotte airport. Then, after flying twenty minutes and passing low over a small, picturesque lake, with the pattern of varying size homes on the eastern shore, Larry had landed the plane on a gravel airstrip about a mile from the general store and gas station.

A big man in a plaid flannel shirt had met them in an old, battered pickup truck. He’d introduced himself as Nash Walkins, bait-shop owner.

So, squashed in the middle of the bench seat, wrinkling her nose at the faint odor of trout, Crystal had bounced down the rutted road to Larry’s house.

“It needs a bit of work,” said Larry as they rocked to a halt between the wide front porch and an overgrown lawn that swept down to an aging dock at the lakeshore. The sun was a dying orange ball, slipping fast behind the rolling hills on the far side of the lake.

Nash guffawed from the driver’s seat.

“Okay, quite a bit of work,” Larry amended.

White paint was peeling on the pillars and latticework. The shingles curled up from a bowed porch roof. And two of the front windows were covered in plywood.

“It’s lovely,” said Crystal, stretching the truth to within an inch of its life.

“She’s a keeper,” said Nash, with a nod at Crystal.

“She recognizes a diamond in the rough,” said Larry.

“Actually,” Crystal admitted, “I was just being polite.”

Nash laughed.

“You wait,” said Larry. “We’re going to restore it using Fibonacci numbers.”

Crystal blinked her confusion at him.

“It’ll be gorgeous,” he finished.

“And for now?” she asked, gazing worriedly at the sagging door. Surely they weren’t actually sleeping here.

“The electricity works. So does the plumbing,” said Larry, creaking open the truck door.

“Upstairs only, for water,” Nash warned.

“That’s all we need.” Larry swung out of the vehicle. “The café open?”

“It’s Sunday,” said Nash, exiting from the driver’s side.

Crystal slid across the velour seat cover. “What does that mean?”

“The café’s closed Sundays. We can grill some burgers on my deck,” Nash offered.

Larry nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll bring the wine.”

Standing on the uneven ground, Crystal put her hands on her hips and stared up at the three story monstrosity. “I feel like a teenager in a horror movie.”

Larry snagged her hand, pulling her against his side. “Don’t worry,” he muttered, then leaned down and planted a long kiss on her surprised mouth, leaving her speechless. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“You sure she doesn’t have a sister available?” asked Nash.

“I’m working on it,” Crystal answered. She’d like nothing better than for Amber to become available.

“Find your own dates,” Larry growled at Nash. “He’s a hound dog,” he added for Crystal’s benefit.

“You have a job?” she asked Nash.

“Own my own business.”

“Then you’ve got my vote.”

“It’s a bait shop,” Larry reminded her.

Nash folded his thick arms over his broad chest. “Nitroworms and night crawlers,” he proudly informed her.

Crystal shuddered.

“See what I mean?” asked Larry, pulling down the tailgate so that Rufus could jump out of the box.

“Better to sell night crawlers than to be one,” she pointed out. Though she honestly didn’t think she could be intimate with a man who handled creepy crawly things all day long. But maybe Amber was different. Crystal would think about that.

“Need anything else?” asked Nash, his tone going serious.

Larry shook his head, settling their two overnight bags on his shoulder. “Half an hour?”

“See you then,” said Nash, easing back into the driver’s seat and slamming the door. The diesel engine roared to life.

“We’re really sleeping here?” asked Crystal.

“The master bedroom is comfy. Honest.”

She took a breath. “Whatever you say.”

He started up the rickety stairs, and she followed along. “We’ll have complete privacy.”

Okay. That sounded pretty good.

Rufus sniffed at an old porch swing, glancing at Larry before gracefully leaping up to settle on the cushion. The springs creaked gently under his weight.

Larry shouldered open the door and hit a light switch.

The entry hall and living room were a jumble of power tools and building supplies. From what she could see, the dining room was the same, except its walls had been torn down, the bare two-by-fours exposed beneath.

“This way,” said Larry, leading a winding path through rubble and plywood to a sweeping staircase.

It squeaked when he put his foot on the bottom stair.

“Is this thing going to collapse?”

He started up, tugging her along. “Trust me. I’m a rocket scientist.”

“I’d feel better if you were a carpenter.”

The worn banister wobbled under her hand. But before any real panic could set in, they were in the upstairs hallway. Larry pushed a door open, flicked the light on and motioned her into an astonishingly beautiful room.

The walls were copper in color, highlighting a polished cherrywood dresser, armoire, headboard and footboard. A cream-colored loveseat was positioned in one corner, across from two French provincial armchairs. On three windows in the corner room, pale gold curtains were held back by gleaming cords. Three tiffany-look lamps glowed on the dresser and bedside tables, reflecting off the patterned rug.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“The former owner did this,” Larry told her, moving to the windows to pull down the shades. “I suspect she had plans for the rest of the house. But she had a sudden financial setback.”

Crystal moved into the room, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the dresser.

“Unfortunately,” Larry continued, “there are structural problems underneath.”

She couldn’t help but glance worriedly at the floor.

“It won’t fall apart tonight,” he assured her.

“You sure about that.”

He took her hand, drawing her into his arms. “Have a little faith, sweetheart.”

She tipped her head to gaze into his warm eyes. “How long did you tell Nash we’d be?”

Larry glanced at his watch. “We have seventeen minutes.”

Warmth swirling in her stomach, Crystal came up on her toes and kissed him. “I wish you’d made that a little longer.”