Book 8 of the Nascar 2009 Series from Harlequin

I.W.:
I can't begin to count the number of times I've sworn off continuities. Those are the series of books with related plots - like the NASCAR HIDDEN LEGACIES series - where a group of authors write stories that are like pieces of a larger puzzle. Yes, it's wonderful to work with so many talented writers, and it's terrific to be part of a project where a bigger story can be told, but whooeee, is it a lot of work! There are so many itty bitty details that have to be coordinated, such as the ages of characters, the movements of characters (the timelines of some books overlap, so we can't have our people being two places at once!) and of course, the very character of the characters. So, whenever I complete on of these continuities, I swear them off forever!

Naturally, I regularly swear off coffee and computer solitaire games as well, but I always end up backsliding. So, when an editor that I absolutely love called me up to ask me if I'd like to participate in the NASCAR continuity series, my brain was screaming "No" but my mouth said "Yes, of course, I'd love to. By the way, what's NASCAR?"

I confess, I wasn't a fan when I started writing WITHIN STRIKING DISTANCE, but by the time I'd finished, I had discovered a whole new world. NASCAR people are some of the friendliest, most helpful and enthusiastic individuals I've ever met. It's a great sport, and a great group. So you see, sometimes it's a good thing to have a lack of willpower. Have you ever been glad that you've given in to temptation?
 

Becky struggled to catch her breath. It wasn’t like her to be that clumsy. Normally, she didn’t have trouble with the staircase from the garage loft but she’d been distracted because she’d been watching Jake and thinking yet again how attractive he looked when he moved and oh, but his arms were strong. She could feel his muscles flex across her back and beneath her knees and she knew darn well it wasn’t the fall that had knocked the air from her lungs. “Uh, thanks for catching me.”

Jake cleared his throat. “Anytime.”

“I’m all right. You can put me down now.”

He didn’t move to let her go. If anything, he tightened his hold on her.

She gripped his shoulder. “Jake?”

He clenched his jaw so firmly that a muscle jumped in his cheek. “Sure,” he murmured. He focused on her mouth. “I need to get going.”

Becky wanted to stay right where she was, but a subtle tremor went through Jake's arms, as if he were straining to hold himself motionless. Belatedly she realized he’d had to drop his cane when he’d caught her. She patted his shoulder. “I’m heavier than I look.”

“You’re perfect, Becky. Absolutely perfect.” He paused. “But yeah, it would be smart to let go of you before there’s a problem.” He loosened his grip on her legs. The moment her feet touched the floor, he withdrew his arms and grasped the side of the staircase.

A dog started barking from somewhere down the block. A breeze puffed through the open garage door, stirring up the smells of dust and cement. As atmospheres went, it was a far cry from being romantic. Becky tried to concentrate on that rather than the disappointment she felt at the loss of contact with Jake.

The embrace hadn’t been deliberate, she reminded herself. He’d just been keeping her from landing on her butt. Even if he’d held her a little longer than he’d needed to, he evidently didn’t want to admit it, so she would follow his lead. She brushed off her jeans, giving herself a moment to regain her equilibrium while she looked around for the bag that she’d dropped when she’d fallen. She spotted Jake’s cane first and retrieved it. “Here,” she said, holding it out to him.

That was when she noticed the rip in his pant leg. She gasped. A narrow flap of fabric had torn free and hung down, exposing his leg from his thigh to his knee. “Jake, what happened?”

He glanced down, then pinched the fabric at the edge of the rip to pull it aside so he could inspect his leg. “Looks like I caught one of those slivers on the staircase,” he said.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He took the cane from her hand. “It didn’t break the skin.”

She could see for herself there was no blood on his leg. Most of what was visible through the hole in his pants was scar tissue.

It was the thick, ridged white of an old wound. A horrendous wound. The misshapen tissue encased what was visible of his knee and stretched up his thigh. The full extent of it was hidden beneath the rest of his pant leg, so she could only guess how far down it went. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. 

“Yeah, it’s a sight.”

Unable to stop herself, she touched her fingertips to his pant leg beside the rip. She could feel more ridges of scar tissue through the fabric. “This must have been agonizing.”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

She didn’t know whether or not to believe that. How could anyone have completely healed from something so extensive? She dropped her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“Why? You should be proud of how well you recovered. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through to be able to get around as well as you do now.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I forget myself.” He moved to the box of photos that he’d dropped. It had landed on its side but was still intact. His shirt pulled tightly across his shoulders as he leaned down to pick it up.

Something had to be wrong with her, Becky thought. How could she enjoy watching Jake move when she’d just seen the evidence of how much he must have suffered? “I feel stupid for falling.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He tucked the box under one arm and started toward the garage door.

“No, I should have realized moving so fast when you caught me would hurt your leg. I should have gotten back on my feet right away.”

He halted abruptly, then set the box on the floor, pivoted with his cane and returned to where she stood. “My leg wasn’t the problem, Becky. I was leaning against the steps. I could have held you for another hour.”

“I know you’re very strong. I didn’t mean to offend - ” 

He shot out his free hand and caught her wrist. “It wasn’t my leg that made me let you go, it’s the fact I wanted to kiss you.”

The frank admission knocked out the air from her lungs. The pleasure she’d felt in his arms returned in a rush, and once again, she had trouble catching her breath.

She tipped her face to meet his gaze. For once, he wasn’t masking the warmth there. Honest desire shone from his eyes, sending her heart tripping in response. She didn’t try to conceal the effect he was having on her. There was no point. With his fingers on her wrist, he’d be able to feel how her pulse was racing. “I’ve thought about it too, Jake.”

“That just proves how vulnerable you are because of this case. I don’t have that excuse.”

“Jake - ”

“All this delving into your childhood is stirring up some serious emotions for you. Anybody would get confused. I’d be a real bastard if I took advantage of the situation.”

“You wouldn’t be taking advantage.” 

“Come on, Becky. Look at me. I’m forty-eight. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“No, it isn’t. You’re just getting started on your life. More than half of mine has already gone by. We want completely different things. I shouldn’t want to kiss you. I should be looking out for you.”

“I’m a big girl, Jake. I don’t need you to look out for me.”

“Too bad. That’s what I’m doing.” He rubbed his thumb along the underside of her arm, then released her and held up his palm. “I’ve got no business having any feelings about you in the first place.”

And she shouldn’t be having feelings for him, either. She was looking for her birth family, not a man. Jake was right, her emotions were probably confused. She’d already thought of that. This crush she had developed on him might be the result of excitement over what he was doing and gratitude for the fact he was doing it.

Yet none of her reasoning could prevent the effect he had on her senses whenever he touched her. Or stood near her. Or merely looked at her. His cheek was twitching again. Becky lifted her hand and stroked his jaw.

He inhaled hard through his nose. “Becky,” he said firmly. “We still need to work together. I’m trying to do the right thing here. You can see that, can’t you?”

Yes, she could. She’d felt from the start that Jake was a good man. That was one of the reasons she would welcome a kiss from him. More than welcome it. More than one kiss, too.

Yet he wouldn’t kiss her because he was a good man...
 

WITHIN STRIKING DISTANCE
by Ingrid Weaver
August, 2009
ISBN 978-0373-18526-9

Book 8 of the Nascar 2009 Series from Harlequin