Page 16 of When You Were Mine

While he had no interest in continuing to dress in costume, his stomach pitched and rolled when he considered what the rest of his life looked like. “Let me think about it over the holidays.”

“Okay, but don’t forget. The season starts in February.” She pulled her phone out of her messenger bag and pointed it at the ticket screen. “And it’s going to be a damn good one.” Her tone held pure confidence. “We’re going to sweep the races this year. It’s so much fun. You only got a little taste of it.”

A celebrated driver, Darby had taken him around the track at nearly two hundred miles per hour. She was a high-octane woman, and they’d filled their every waking moment with meetings, dinners, antique hunting, and parties—which was in total contrast to the week she’d spent at his place in Wyoming, where they’d hiked, sat around the fire pit at night, and spent time with his four grandkids.

Needless to say, she’d been bored out of her mind.

“Okay, well, you go drink champagne on your luxurious private jet, and I’ll slog it with the middle class.” The woman had millions in endorsements, so he knew she was only joking. She got up on her toes to kiss him on the mouth.

But he turned just in time for her lips to land on his cheek. “Sounds good.” All she wanted was his celebrity status to draw attention to her team, so he wouldn’t need to do much but show up at the events.

Her love for her sport was infectious. Honestly, nothing was sexier than a woman who loved her work.

Mostly because, while he’d had a great career and achieved success beyond his wildest imagination, he’d never had a passion.

Well, not for a job or a hobby. For a person, yes. The garden in his heart grew nothing but Elzy flowers. But that wasn’t the same thing.

And he needed it. Needed a project that consumed him, that he could throw himself into. He was lost without it. And the NASCAR season ran for ten months, so that would sure as hell be all-consuming.

Instead of heading off to her gate, she hesitated. “You sure you don’t want to come with me?” Darby always dreaded going home. She said it was a whirlwind visit of family and friends who couldn’t understand why she’d chosen a career in America over getting married and having kids who’d grow up with cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents back in Reykjavik.

He’d never been to Iceland and wouldn’t mind seeing it. But it was Christmas. Family time. And thanks to a brutal filming schedule, he’d missed out on so much with his son. He was determined to be present for his grandkids. “Sounds fun, but I want to be with my family.”

“You know, there’s a simple solution to our problem.” She had a teasing glint in her eyes.

“We have a problem?” he clapped right back.

“We do.” She pressed a hand to his chest. “Wherever we go, we’re both visitors. Guests. We don’t really belong.”

Though he couldn’t deny the truth, it stung to hear it. He loved being a grandfather, but too often, he was in the way. In his son’s household, it was always nap or bath time, or the girls were throwing a fit or racing out the door to dance class.

Trevor knew they loved and appreciated him, but his son and daughter-in-law were trying to wrangle order out of mayhem, and there just wasn’t a role for him. Maybe when the kids were older it would change but not yet.

Up until a couple of months ago, he’d felt part of the family. So, when he’d heard his daughter-in-law’s hushed, urgent voice behind the closed door of her bedroom, it had gutted him.

I can’t handle one more person in this house.

He still visited, of course. He was there whenever they needed him to babysit or celebrate, but he was extremely conscious of overstaying his welcome.

“What’s your solution?” Because he wasn’t going to deny he had a problem. His life revolved around his family, but they were—necessarily—their own unit. His son was focused on managing four daughters, a wife, and owning a hockey team.

And now that Trevor was retired, he had no job. No hobbies.

He had no passion.

She gazed into his eyes. “We could belong to each other.”

The suggestion blew through him like a brisk wind. They’d never talked about a future. Nothing serious at all. “We’ve known each other for a month. What do you mean?”

“Trevor, we’ve both had our great loves. There’s not going to be another one for either of us. We also know how hard it is to ‘visit’ our families. And I don’t know about you, but I’m so tired of dating apps—well, dating in general. It’s awful. We could solve all our problems by being great companions for the rest of our lives.” She reached for his hand. “Aren’t you tired of being alone?”

He could say yes. It wouldn’t be a lie. But there was a tug deep inside he couldn’t ignore. Because on some level, he was still holding out.

For a woman he hadn’t seen in thirty years.

One who’d moved on. Had a family of her own.

“Think about how we met,” she continued. “We hooked up at a gala. Do you want to do that for the rest of your life?”

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