Page 138 of Lemon Crush

“I was thinking I might call some of Mom’s friends to come out to the race with me. Will you email me the design you made for Jiminy so I can share it with them?”

My lips parted. She was coming to the racetrack too? “Absolutely.”

“Let’s go have some breakfast.” She got to her feet, pulling me along with her. “Don’t make out with Wade in front of me yet, all right? Not so soon after the bloodbath.”

I chuckled. “It wasn’t that bad. It was actually kind of beautiful. After the part that wasn’t.”

Morgan paled and paused. “Let’s stop talking about it, okay?”

“Okay. Oh, and Morgan?”

“Yes?”

“In the spirit of our fresh start and so you won’t be the last to know this time, I have a new puppy.” I waited a beat. “And I asked Wade to move in with me last night.”

Those big Sophia Loren eyes nearly popped out of her head as I passed her in the doorway, laughing at her shocked expression.

A fresh start, right here. With her.

Yeah. We were going to be okay.

28

WADE

Three weeks later…

I leanedagainst the side of the bug with my elbows on the roof, squinting against the sun as I scanned the colorful crowd of vehicles, drivers and spectators for any sign of August.

Grid time, when the cars would start lining up for the race, was in less than an hour and I still hadn’t managed to find a minute alone with her. She’d left with Chick at the crack of dawn this morning and been on the go ever since. I’d thought about going to look for her, but that was probably the surest way to miss her, so I’d planted myself here thinking she’d have to show up sooner or later.

We brought the bug in the trailer on Thursday evening, during early registration, so we’d have our pick of the twenty-by-forty-foot spaces in the open paddock. We also set up the tent and anchored it to the trailer in case the winds picked up at some point. But the weather was gorgeous, probably seventy degrees with a forecast high of seventy-eight, and not a cloud in sight. Late October was the best time of year for a race.

“What are you doing, Wade?” Chick asked behind me.

Immediately moving to the rear of the car, I popped open the deck lid and crouched for another look at the engine. “Last-minute check.”

I could really use a loose wire or a cracked hose right about now. Anything to keep me too busy for small talk. It was nothing against Chick—I’d actually been enjoying his company since he moved into the apartment a few weeks ago—but I wasn’t in the mood to talk right now. Not to anyone who wasn’t August.

Unfortunately, there was nothing left to do to the car. Jiminy was in as good a shape as he had been coming off the production line. Better, because I hadn’t ruined a classic, no matter what the judges said when they placed theGood Enoughsticker on the windshield and declared us ready to race.

He wouldn’t be in the same condition after this weekend, but I’d resigned myself to that reality. I was more worried about the drivers.

One driver in particular. And it isn’t your sister.

I had more sympathy now for Morgan than I used to—her husband did this up to three times a year. I doubted it was what she’d signed up for when she married an accountant who loved board games. Still, she said she worried more about him holding a sword than sitting behind the wheel.

“Check for what?” Chick asked. “Didn’t Jiminy pass the Tech and BS inspections yesterday?”

“The judges aren’t looking for vehicle maintenance issues,” I said, tugging on a hose as if there were a snowball’s chance in hell it might be loose. “That’s my job.”

“I’m still peeved Kingston got to film all of it, but I wasn’t allowed to watch anything except their Test & Tune session.”

The team had paid extra for August and Bernie to have a little time on the track yesterday afternoon. They’d never driven Jiminy here, and I felt the newest drivers should get a feel for how hehandled in the turns before the actual race. Bernie hadn’t needed it, but August had been grateful.

“Don’t take it personally, Chick. Gene loves the bullshit inspection and you’re the better bullshitter. Most likely, he didn’t want you stealing his thunder.”

“Don’t sweet-talk me, Captain Wade, or I’ll start thinking you like me.”

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