Page 2 of Wrecking Boundaries (SteelTrack Racing #2)

“Thank you for taking me home,” Sarah says and slowly taps the front door. “You don’t need to worry any longer. I can take care of the rest tomorrow.”

“Yes, you can. I doubt there’s little you can’t accomplish once you set your mind to it,” I say because it’s undoubtedly true. The rest doesn’t deserve a response. “Nice place. How long are you staying here?”

Her ‘home,’ with rustic furniture and a small television mounted on the wall, is an obvious vacation rental. If it were permanent, there would be at least one family picture somewhere. Instead, there are a few mountain scenes and a deer head on one wall. Sarah never allowed me to come to her place, but that doesn’t matter. I bet she decorates it with pink and lace.

A stack of paperbacks sits on the edge of a table. The top book features a half-dressed man covered in tattoos. More interestingly, there’s no evidence Sarah is sharing her little cabin with anyone else. No board games or matching coffee mugs exist, and reading is a solitary activity.

Interesting.

“Two more days,” Sarah answers. She remains by the door but releases the knob.

I step further into the living space, pointedly telling her I’m not leaving yet. “What do you have to drink?”

“Water,” she says flatly. “Tepid water.”

“Delicious. That’s my favorite.” This is fun. “What are we doing for dinner?”

“I already ate.”

Sarah returns with my glass of water. It’s half-full and lukewarm like she promised. I take a sip. “Perfect. You remembered how I like it.” That isn’t true, but Sarah’s frown is worth it.

She tries again. “You don’t need to stay any longer, Jake. I have it from here. Boone and Maddie will arrive in the morning, and you two can’t be together. We both know it would end in disaster, and you’d enjoy it.”

Now, that part is true. The rivalry between her brother and me approaches legendary status. It started over a dispute two years ago and grew worse when he spun me during Talladega last season to take the win. We nearly came to blows in the next race, and Sarah dumped me right after. We came to blows before then, too, which was also a problem.

The last time we spoke, I promised to do better, but she accused me of being the same as the rest. Then she told me about her boyfriend, making sure I knew he was not a race car driver. Whatever our relationship was, it ended before it had a chance to start.

“I can be friendly. It’s your brother that’s the problem.” Sarah glares, ready to defend Boone Rivers. That’s the other problem between us. She’ll always pick him over us, even when he’s at fault. We were doomed from our first kiss. “Besides, if you told your brother, he would already be coming. Boone would have already called the local police to check on you. Find another excuse, Princess.”

After months of her ignoring me, Sarah thinks I’d leave with nothing but a polite handshake. Her disappointment arises from the fact that saving her in winter is an excellent reason to stick around. It’s embarrassing to admit how often I think of her .

“I’m not going to defend Boone to you, Jake. We’re done. We ended months ago. There’s nothing else to say.” Sarah moves back to the door. Her hope is admirable, futile though it is.

“Your sweatshirt says enough.” It’s black with Boone’s number on it and ugly as hell. “You should take it off.”

“I’m not doing this, Jake.” She finally backs away from the door to gain some distance from me.

“Doing what?” I ask and step deeper into her cabin. I pick up the book at the top of her stack. “What are you reading?”

She swipes it out of my hand. “Give it to me.”

I move around her and pick up one after another from the stack. “Pirates, good choice. What’s this one? He’s wearing an old-fashioned suit.”

Sarah reaches for the rest, but they spill on the floor. “This is a good reminder,” she mumbles to herself.

“It’s a great reminder of how amazing we were together.” It’s a reminder we should never have broken up. I move into the kitchen area, knowing she’ll follow behind, and flick on the overhead light. “Now it’s time for dinner.”

I check the cabinets and then try the refrigerator. They’re all empty. Has she been starving herself as a form of vacation fun?

Sarah rubs at her temples and groans my name. “You’re not leaving, are you?” she asks. I shake my head. “The box of hot chocolate packets by the kettle.” She points in their direction. “Tiramisu and fruit. They were going to be my dinner.”

Her favorite dessert. She mentioned it once, so I arranged for a local bakery to send their stock to her hotel room after Atlanta. She invited me over, and I didn’t leave until the following day. Ladyfingers dipped in coffee can accomplish amazing things when you need them to.

“Both of them?” I smile at the image of her snuggled up on the loveseat, my new quilt over her legs, and a cup of hot chocolate in her hands. I’d be on the other side of the loveseat, reading her book aloud, with my feet in her lap. “Well, let’s eat then. Go sit down; I’ll bring everything to you.”

Her glare is hilarious. “I could have you arrested for trespassing.”

I toss her my phone. “Don’t forget to add a kidnapping charge.”

Sarah sits in the cabin’s small eating area, a square table with only two wooden chairs. “You should know; I haven’t thought about you in weeks.”

That’s funny because we haven’t spoken in months. I set the kettle to boil and find a knife to cut up her dessert. Despite my teasing, the truth is I finished a delicious homemade dinner not that long ago. I cut a tiny sliver for myself and leave the rest for Sarah.

“That’s all?” she asks when I set the ridiculous meal before her. “What about you?”

“I already ate.”

That earns another glare. “How did you get here?”

“I drove you.”

“That’s not what I meant. How did you end up on an empty country road in January?”

“I was visiting some people I knew. At the last minute, I took the scenic route home. The view was better than I hoped.” I wink at her and swallow my share of tiramisu in one bite.

I spent the last several days in my childhood home. It isn’t easy to see my family during the season, so I take advantage of the long break over Christmas and January. With four younger sisters and my mother to care for, keeping up is a constant struggle. Our father is gone because of me, so I consider them my most important responsibility .

“Friends?”

“I’ve known them forever,” I answer and lean back, waiting for Sarah to inquire further. She doesn’t, so I say, “It was a nice break, and now I’m with you.”

My family isn’t a secret, not because I keep them hidden. It’s more that I never volunteer the information. There are plenty of ways to further my career that don’t require using them as PR fodder. It’s working, too, even if my plans are progressing slower than I hoped.

I scoot down in my chair to wrap my legs around hers. Sarah stiffens and presses her back against the seat.

That earns me my third glare of the evening. She drops her fork, and it clatters on the glass plate. “Stop.” She points at me, and I can see her chest moving. “We were barely a couple, and we aren’t now. We had a good time, nothing else. So stop.”

“That was your decision, not mine.” I respected it and didn’t push back when she made that ridiculous claim about the new boyfriend. I believed it for a few weeks, but she attended the race every Sunday, proving the boyfriend claim to be a lie. Sarah would not travel with a love-struck boyfriend waiting at home. She especially would not travel if the man waiting at home was good enough for her. “How’s your dating life?”

“None of your business.”

“Dry spells happen to us all, Sarah. Well, not me, of course.” I grin, and Sarah looks down at her plate. She doesn’t even offer one of her snappy comebacks. I haven’t been with anyone, either. It wasn’t planned because I considered it. Every time an opportunity presented itself, I wasn’t interested. After a few efforts, I gave up because I wanted her. “We could have some reunion fun for old-time’s sake.”

Her brow arches, and I smile again. “Like the last time?” she asks .

“Even better.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine topping the best five minutes of my life.” She smirks and then licks the last bite of dessert off her fork.

I’m not even offended. “Prickly princess is back. Give me a second chance?”

She silently counts with her fingers. “I gave you four of them. After that, it’s not worth my time.”

“I missed you.”

“No, you didn’t. You missed getting in bed with your worst enemy’s little sister.” She crosses her arms, waiting for me to deny it. “You missed your petty revenge.”

She’s wrong, or at least she’s not entirely correct. Still, I won’t defend myself from such an absurd statement. Sarah is not a weapon in some sports rivalry; besides, I never asked her for team secrets or used her. I was honest from the very beginning.

I lean back, taking in her features for the first time in months. Her hair is dark, almost coal black, with eyes to match. If you catch them in the right light, gold flecks appear. Sarah’s lashes are so thick I once thought she had permanent makeup on. It turned out to be a family trait.

Once, I said she had the body of Marilyn Monroe. I intended it as a compliment because Marilyn was the sexiest woman who ever lived, yet Sarah only scoffed. It’s still true, and Sarah is stunning tonight, as she always is, even wearing old jeans and a sweatshirt. Several wispy strands of hair are visible in the cabin light. I want to keep staring.

“Give me another chance, and I’ll give you the best ten minutes of your life,” I say. She’ll refuse the challenge, but damn if it isn’t worth trying. “I’m staying the night; we might as well enjoy ourselves. ”

“You aren’t staying the night, Jake. This isn’t a joke. Look at me.” She points out her eyes and lips. There’s no smile, only frustration. “We will not happen. You said that exact statement the first night, remember? It was a good time; there was no commitment and nothing special. Those were your words, remember?”

I said them because they were the magic words to finagle a date out of her. They weren’t supposed to return and bite my ass several months later. “Is that a refusal? Third chance, Sarah. I’ll tell you what. Fifteen minutes, and I don’t say that to just any girl. Last offer.”

Sarah quietly gets up from the table, and I follow, taking the two plates from her hands.

“Sit down and go read your book, will you? I’ll wash up,” I say. Sarah doesn’t respond, picking up the book with the shirtless guy on the cover. Except she keeps staring at me instead of reading. “I’m done making passes.” For now. “I’m not leaving you stranded in the middle of nowhere. Tomorrow, we’ll take care of your car, and once that’s fixed, I’ll be on my way. I can manage one night on that.” I indicate the loveseat and return to washing our dishes.

Sarah finally picks up her book to read. That miniature couch is too small for my body, but at least my mom’s new quilt will keep me warm. Plus, there’s a travel bag in my truck, so I’ll have clean clothes and a toothbrush in the morning.

After cleaning the dishes, I turn on the gas fireplace and pick up one of her books. I briefly thumb through it before setting it back down.

Instead of reading, I stick my legs out and watch the gas flames flicker while Sarah sits beside me. We’re a little cramped, but neither of us complains.

“Thank you for helping me tonight,” she says after a little while .

“You’re welcome, Princess.”

I’ll always come when you need me.

Sarah thinks we were a fling, over and done with. If that were true and we were so easily forgotten, why did she respond so strongly to my presence tonight?

Every race is a second chance and a new opportunity to win.

I can be patient.