On the Edge by Pamela Britton Page A

his right like a giant bowl, the angle was so steep. There weren’t thousands of fans watching his every move, no TV cameras trained on his car, but Adam didn’t care. If he never drove a race truck again, he’d always remember this.

    And that’s when he started to relax. Truly relax. He had nothing to prove to anybody, he realized. He was there by the grace of God and his daughter’s strong will. He hadn’t wrecked the truck and to be honest, he didn’t think he would. So if he went fast, great, if not—no big deal.

    “All set,” Sanders said a few seconds later.

    “Roger,” Adam answered, putting the truck into gear.

    It was better. Still not great, but better. And his lap times were good, lower than the target lap times they’d set. Course, that probably didn’t mean much. He had a feeling that the target lap times were probably more like a goal and not anything else.

    Two more trips to pit road and they had it the way he liked it. It felt fast, but that was only because he’d never driven a one-and-a-half-mile oval. He could have stayed out there all day.

    All too quickly Sanders said, “Okay. Your twenty-lap session is over. Bring her in.”

    “Do I have to?” Adam felt comfortable enough to quip.

    “’Fraid so, buddy.”

    “Shoot. And here I was hoping to stay out here until the next truck race.”

    “NASCAR might have a thing or two to say about that.”

    “You think so?” Adam asked.

    “I think so.” Sanders joked back.

    And so he brought it in, Adam studying the crew’s faces in the hopes of gauging how he did. Alas, he couldn’t tell a thing. He handed the steering wheel and helmet to the crew member who released the safety net, detaching himself from the audio system and the various safety restraints until he was free to wiggle out of the car.

    “That was fun,” Adam said, catching the man’s eye as he pulled himself out the window.

    “It looked like fun.”

    “I might have to come back here and do that driving school just so I can experience it again.”

    And it was funny, because it was only after he said the words that he finally noticed how the other crew members were staring at him. They hovered near the wall, looks of approval on their faces. Blain’s next words confirmed what he already suspected.

    “Adam, you won’t need to pay someone to drive here,” Sanders said. “You drove faster than last year’s race winner.”

    It felt as if he’d stomped on the brakes. His world came to a screeching halt, only to grind fast forward again. “Come again?”

    “You were fast, Adam,” Blain said. “Real fast. That target time was set by last year’s race winner, and you shattered it to hell and back. We’ll definitely want you back for phase two tomorrow.”

    He looked past Blain to the woman standing behind him—Cece Sanders, he recognized.

    “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said.

CHAPTER FIVE

    “HE LOOKS AS SHOCKED as you do,” Cece said a few moments later.
    “I can’t believe it,” Becca murmured for about the hundredth time.

    “What I can’t believe is that he hasn’t tried out for a team before.”

    “He couldn’t. Not while raising his little girl.”

    “What a waste,” Cece mused.

    “It wasn’t a waste,” Becca said. “I respect and admire his sacrifice.” Her words trailed off because she’d noticed the look on Cece’s face.

    “Got you,” her friend said with a grin.

    “You know, there are moments when I truly want to throttle you.”

    “No, you don’t,” she said, her blue eyes all but twinkling. “You love me too much and you know it.”

    Becca sighed, looking over at Adam Drake again. “I do.”

    “The question is,” Cece added. “What are you going to do with him?”

    I know what I’d like to do with him.

    Becca closed her eyes, mouthing a silent curse. She hadn’t felt this kind of attraction to a man in years, and she couldn’t believe it was rearing its ugly head now. When she opened her