He came off the track as Burt Haskell celebrated his win. Cameron wanted to keep driving so he wouldn’t see the disappointment in his crew’s face in the garage. They worked hard to give him the best car with the best speed to win. Wins not only meant money, they also meant prestige and a deep sense of accomplishment. No one worth anything worked on the teams strictly for the money.

  He cursed to see cameras and newspeople already waiting for him at the entrance to his bay. This was one time he wished there was no such thing as hot passes, which permitted certain individuals to be in the garage area at all times. He would have preferred the media had cold passes, which prevented the wearer from being in the garage area one hour before and one hour after the race.

  Mics were thrust in his face even before he flicked the switch to climb out of his car. He kept his helmet on so they wouldn’t see his anger, the disappointment on his face.

  “Cameron, what went wrong out there?”

  “What are your thoughts now?”

  He worked hard to keep the expletive from escaping. In no other sport was the professional put on the spot so quickly. Others had time to go to the locker room, cool off, and regroup, but in NASCAR you were thrust into the spotlight immediately. Words spoken in the heat of the moment had come back to haunt a lot of drivers. He had never felt less like talking.

  “How do you plan to make up for this loss?”

  “What do you say to your crew, your crew chief, or Hilliard?”

  Cameron wanted to ram the mic down the throat of the reporter who had just asked the last question. Then he remembered his family, in particular his older brother Duncan, who no matter how hard life had slapped him down always held his head up. Cameron remembered Faith, who still didn’t know he’d learned she called in a favor with Blade Navarone to use his far-reaching influence to keep Cameron on Hilliard’s race team.

  Probably none of his family had watched the race, but all would hear one way or another about his pitiful showing. When they did, their TV would come on and his cell phone would ring. When that happened, he wanted them to see him with his head up despite the knot in his gut, the pain in his heart.

  And there was always the possibility, albeit a long shot, that Joshua and Caitlin were watching the race. If they were, he wanted his son to know that no matter what, a man always took responsibility for his actions.

  He removed the helmet. The glare of the TV cameras, and the flash of the film cameras caught every nuance of his face. “I have the best crew and crew chief in the business. No driver could ask for better. The loss today stops at my door and I take full responsibility. I congratulate Haskell on his win.”

  “No driver that I can think of has ever won the pole and finished last. Any comments?”

  Yeah, Cameron thought. I’d like to rearrange your face. “If you were hoping to make me feel even worse for my owner and team, you’ve succeeded.”

  “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, but Cameron is wanted elsewhere.” Hope stepped up beside him, her smile as beautiful and playful as always. “I’m sure you understand.” Curving her arm through Cameron’s, she led him away.

  “What you wanna bet Hilliard is waiting to let McBride have it with both barrels?” Cameron heard a male voice ask.

  “Yeah. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes,” a female voice answered. “It won’t matter if his teammate came in eleventh. Cameron is supposed to be the man to beat this year.”

  “Not the way he’s driving.”

  Cameron tensed, paused in mid-stride. Hope tugged at his arm. “They meant for you to hear them and you know it. Keep moving. Don’t fall into their trap.”

  Cameron resisted looking over his shoulder to try and determine who had spoken. Words spoken in haste were repented not at leisure, but over and over and in print and on TV. He started walking.

  “Father told me about the tape,” Hope said, still holding his arm. “I’m sorry Joshua had to see that.”

  Cameron tried to blot out the image of terror on his son’s face and failed. “He won’t even look at me.”

  “Give him time.” Hope steered him through the rows of motor coaches owned by the drivers. “I’m betting it will be different tonight.”

  This time he did stop and frown down at her. “What?”

  She took his helmet out from the crook of his arm. “Hilliard wants his winning driver back so he’s made his jet available.”

  Cameron had a hard time accepting what he was hearing. Hilliard, while a fair man, could be hard and unbending. He wasn’t a man to be cajoled. He understood his cars wouldn’t always be in Victory Lane, yet it wasn’t in his nature to cut the driver slack, especially one who had come in last. Cameron was positive Blade hadn’t intervened. That left Hope.

  She nodded toward a waiting black Lincoln. “The car will take you to Greensboro Airport. Hilliard’s private jet is there to take you to LAX. Another car is there to drive you to Fontana.”

  “Hope—” He didn’t know what to say. She could be as hard-nosed as Hilliard. “Thank you.”

  “Thank me by getting your mind back on the race.” She handed him a white envelope. “Tickets for a late Monday-afternoon flight to Charlotte. When I see you again I want to see the old Cameron, the one who is going to kick butt at the Martinsville Speedway.”

  He almost smiled. “Now, that’s the Hope I know.”

  She pushed him toward the steps of his motor coach. “Go shower, and remember what I said.”

  Cameron didn’t need any more urging. He opened the door, stripping off clothes as he went. Hoping, praying that Joshua would welcome him.

  Chapter 16

  Caitlin opened her front door before Cameron rang her doorbell and stepped out on the porch. Although the night was warm, she wrapped her arms around herself. She’d peeked through the window for the last fifteen minutes looking for Cameron’s car to pull up, praying she’d somehow find the words to tell him.

  He stopped a few feet away, studied her face, then continued until he held her in his arms. “I thought—”

  ‘I’m so sorry, Cameron,” she said, holding him tight, trying to ease the misery he must be feeling. “Perhaps he just needs more time.”

  Lifting his head, he stared down at her. “I wish I could believe that.” Bending to pick up his overnight bag, he curved his free arm around her waist and entered the house, closing the door after them. “I know he’s asleep, but can I see him?”

  “Of course,” she answered, hating that he thought he had to ask. She wasn’t used to an unsure Cameron. Turning, she led the way down the hallway to Joshua’s room. The door was open, the night-light giving enough illumination for his small body to be seen. He was sleeping on his stomach.

  Placing his bag on the floor, Cameron slowly approached the bed. For countless moments he simply watched Joshua sleep, then he knelt by the bed, tucking the already secure covers around the sleeping child’s neck.

  Joshua twisted restlessly away. Cameron immediately lifted his hands.

  Caitlin, standing behind him, saw what had happened. “He’s just restless,” she explained. “He did the same thing tonight with me.”

  Seconds stretched into minutes before Cameron looked over his shoulder at her. His misery and disbelief were written clearly on his face.

  “I wouldn’t lie to you.” Stepping around him, she adjusted the covers. Joshua didn’t move. She didn’t want to look at Cameron’s face, but she did anyway, then turned her head away at the raw emotions she saw. For whatever reason, Joshua twisted beneath her hands. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Everything is all right.”

  After a few seconds, Joshua stilled.

  “I’m the cause of that,” Cameron said, his voice uneven.

  Caitlin wanted to deny the obvious. She repeated what she hoped and prayed was the truth. “He’ll be all right. He just needs more time.”

  “Yeah,” Cameron said, but he didn’t sound any more convinced than she was. He pushed to his feet and walked into the hall.

  Caitlin followed, her heart aching for him. She didn’t think, she just pulled his head down, her mouth covering his, trying to soothe away the hurt she saw in his eyes, felt in his trembling arms.

  He jerked her to him, his hot mouth devouring hers. His hand slid beneath her T-shirt to touch bare skim. She shivered as his hand swept up and down her spine.

  Picking her up, he crossed the hall and entered her bedroom. He placed her on the turned-down bed and came down on top of her, his mouth taking the lead this time, to ravish her mouth, trail kisses down the curve of her cheek, the side of her neck. When his lips touched cloth, he lifted his head long enough to drag the T-shirt over her head.

  Almost immediately his hot mouth covered her nipple. She felt the pull in her lower body as he suckled, then his hand was there, cupping her through her sweatpants. Restlessly she whimpered, wanting the barrier gone.

  His hand slid beneath the waistband, his fingers finding her heat and need. Wanting more, her hips came off the bed. “Cameron.” His name was a ragged breath of sound.

  “Lift your hips,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  She did as he asked, allowing him to slide the sweatpants and panties off her legs. Immediately she grabbed his T-shirt, sweeping it over his head and reaching for the belt buckle, the snaps of his jeans.

  Her hand imitated his earlier actions. She cupped him, found him hard and rigid. He moaned her name then, pushing her hands away, he shoved off his jeans and came down on top of her.

  Holding her hands, he feasted on her lips, the turgid points of her nipples until she was a quivering mass of need. “Cameron, please.”

  Lifting her hips with both hands, he surged into her. She took all of him, wrapping her legs around his hips, then she was spinning out of control, reaching for completion. She went over, tightening her arms around his neck. Shouting her name, he followed seconds later.

  Breathing hard, he buried his head in the crook of her neck and held her securely to him. Loving him, she stroked her hand up and down his broad back, felt the muscled strength, the dampness of perspiration. This would be heaven . . . if only.

  Cameron didn’t want to move. In Caitlin’s arms he’d found the first moments of peace since he’d seen the tears in Joshua’s eyes. Trying to make the images disappear, he held Caitlin tighter.

  “It’s all right,” Caitlin soothed.

  Cameron lifted his head and stared down into the face of the only woman he would ever love. “Why aren’t you crucifying me?”

  Her hand lifted to cup his cheek. “Because I know you love Joshua. You would never do anything to hurt him. This has to be killing you.”

  Closing his eyes, he gathered her into his arms, rolling to one side so they faced each other. For a long time, they stayed that way. Finally, he opened his eyes. “I don’t know what I would have done if you had blamed me or forbidden me to see him.”

  Surprise widened her expressive eyes. “I would never do that. Besides, what I said didn’t matter much before.”

  “And look at the way that ended up.”

  “Cameron, stop it.” She palmed his cheeks. “No matter the obstacles, you’ve never let anything or anyone keep you from what you wanted. Don’t start now. Together we’ll find a way to get past Joshua’s fears.”

  His eyes locked with hers. “As much as I’ve wanted to, I’ve never been able to assuage your fears.”

  Her forehead touched his. “I’ve tried, Cameron. I just can’t. I lived it with my mother after my father was killed, then when Bobby—”

  “It’s all right,” Cameron said, attempting to calm her. “Don’t think about it.”

  Her head lifted. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Today, when there was an accident, I was so afraid it was you.”

  He frowned down at her. “You watched the race on television?”

  “I listened on a portable radio,” she confessed, chewing on her bottom lip. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mind on the race and I couldn’t stop worrying. The Bristol track has the steepest banks on the circuit. Cars lap the track in fifteen seconds. Accidents can happen.”

  He felt a muscle tic in his jaw. “Coming in dead last, I didn’t have to worry.”

  She rose up on her elbow to glare down at him. “Because you were worried about Joshua. You finished ahead of twenty-four other cars and I’d say that was an accomplishment.”

  Cameron supposed so, but with Caitlin’s tempting breast hovering so close to his face, he forgot about the race. Opening his mouth, he gently closed his teeth over the turgid point, then swirled his tongue over the tight bud. Caitlin moaned and clamped her hand to his head, bringing him closer.

  That was all the enticement he needed. His hand palmed the other breast, plucked at the distended nipple. Talking wouldn’t change things and, for a little while, he could forget.

  He kissed her, loved her with his hands and mouth until both were nearing the breaking point. Positioning her with her back to him he made them one. The pleasure was so intense he trembled.

  Slowly he withdrew, then surged forward, stroking her hot sheath that held him so securely. Her cries of pleasure drove him on. One hand slipped between her slick folds to find the tiny bud, the other stroked her breast the same way he stroked her below.

  The rhythm became faster and faster until he felt her body stiffen beneath his. He increased the pace, determined that this time they would find release together. Two strokes later, he found completion, taking her with him. He’d never felt anything so intense and realized he never would . . . unless it was with this woman.

  Using his last reserves of strength, he wrapped his arms around her and lay down, fitting her body to his, so she faced away from him. He kissed the nape of her neck, felt her tremble, felt the little quakes that continued to ripple though her.

  “Cam,” she moaned sleepily.

  “I’m here. Go to sleep.” He kissed the nape of her neck again, lightly closed his hand over her breast. She’d called him “Cam.” Before she’d left him at the altar she’d always called him Cam. He wanted to believe that it meant something more than being caught up in a passionate moment.

  And then what? His gaze went to the partially closed door. Worry gnawed at him. If he couldn’t get Joshua to overcome his fear, it would mean nothing.

  By Caitlin’s even breathing he knew she was asleep. Gently easing away from her, he pulled on his pants and went to check on Joshua. If he happened to wake up, he wanted some clothes on.

  Joshua remained on his stomach, the covers around his neck. Cameron pulled up a chair and watched him sleep just as he had when they’d first met. He had so many plans for them, first just the two of then, then as a family.

  And now it looked as if none of them would work out.

  Elbows propped on his knees, he put his forehead on top of his clasped hands. Caitlin was right about one thing; he’d always gone after what he wanted. This time he didn’t know how.

  Slender hands slid over his shoulders then stopped in the middle of his chest. Caitlin placed her chin on top of his head. “I was jealous at the time, but he was never happier than when he was with you.”

  “Until I ruined it,” he said, self-recrimination in each word.

  Caitlin knelt in front of him. “Don’t let the last couple of days outweigh all the days of happiness you two had together. He loves you.”

  Cameron found that hard to believe, but he desperately wanted to hold on to the possibility if only for a little while. Rising, he pulled Caitlin to her feet, then picked her up in his arms, touching his head against hers. Together they watched Joshua sleep.

  “Let’s get you to bed.” Cameron firmly turned and walked out of the room, wishing he could have kissed his son good-night, but afraid if he did Joshua would flinch. He might have gained Caitlin for a little while, but he very well mi ght have lost his son forever.

  Caitlin slept in fits and spurts, and each time she woke up, Cameron was awake. She could tell by the way his arms held her so close to him. In turn, she’d held him just as tightly. It was almost seven. She wished she could hold back time. She’d wanted to stay in his arms as long as possible.

  Angling her head upward, she kissed his chin. “Good morning.”

  “ ’Morning,” he said, his eyes troubled.

  She brought a smile to her face. “I bet you’re ready for your caffeine fix. I’ll put the coffee on.”

  His arms slowly released her and he rolled out of bed. “You go ahead and get Joshua ready for school. I can take of myself.”

  She pulled her discarded T-shirt over her head before she spoke. “He’s not going today. I have to reenroll him.”

  He paused with one leg inside his jeans. “Is that the only reason?”

  She thought of lying, but quickly discarded the idea. He deserved the truth no matter how difficult it might be for him to hear. “He likes knowing I’m nearby.”

  His sensual lips flattened into a thin line. “I not only made him afraid for me, but for you. What kind of father does that make me?”

  She quickly went to him. “You’re a good father. This was out of your control. He’ll be fine.”

  “In the meantime, he won’t look at me and doesn’t want you out of his sight.” He jerked on his jeans. “He was happy before I barged my way into his life.”

  “But he wanted a father,” she reminded him.

  “He didn’t bargain on me scaring him half to death,” he rasped.

  “Cameron, you didn’t mean to do that,” she said, trying to get through to him.

  “Yeah.” He picked up the overnight bag he’d brought into the room. “Is Joshua a late sleeper?”

  He wasn’t going to listen, and answering his question wasn’t going to make it any better. “He woke up around this time yesterday morning.”

  A muscle leaped in his jaw. “Is there another bathroom I can use?”

  “The bedroom next to Joshua’s has a full bath.”