Read Online On the Edge by Pamela Britton - Free Book Online Page A

together before. “Ms. Sanders, Becca, there’s really no need to worry about me. I don’t mind camping out here.”

    “Security will mind,” Cece said, arching her brows in Becca’s direction.

    “Fine. He can stay with me,” Becca said. “But you’re going to have to wait until I’m through watching everyone test,” she said, looking at him as if expecting him to try to back out.

    He almost did exactly that, but something about the way she looked into his eyes gave him pause. There was something there, a sort of aloofness that Adam saw right through.

    She was hiding an attraction.

    He held her gaze. She blushed.

    Or did she? “That’s fine,” he said, watching her closely.

    The blush spread down her neck.

    Well, I’ll be…

    He didn’t know what stunned him more, that Becca Newman found him attractive, or that Cece Sanders appeared to be setting the two of them up.

    “Okay then,” Becca said. “I’ll meet up with you later.

    “Thanks,” he said, but he was looking at Cece when he said it.

    “You’re welcome,” she said with a secret smile.

    HE HUNG OUT at the track for the rest of the day, unable to keep his eyes off Becca. And if he were being honest with himself, he could admit to secretly having fantasized about her for years. That was why he’d agreed to stay at her place—well, that and because he didn’t really want to spend the night in his truck. She was racing royalty. The daughter of a five-time NASCAR NEXTEL Cup Series Champion, a man who’d been the son of a racing legend himself. He remembered seeing Rebecca on TV when he’d been younger, standing next to her dad in Victory Lane. When he’d heard who she was he’d become completely smitten, had even felt a pang or two when she’d married Randy Newman. And now here he was, talking to her, interacting with her—cripes, staying with her. It didn’t seem real.

    When he pulled up in front of her house a few hours later, it seemed even less real. Last time he’d been here, he’d been so consumed with worry for Lindsey that he hadn’t even noticed his surroundings. But now he could see that Rebecca Newman lived in a home bigger than the dealership down the street from his garage. The two-story brick house looked like it was Civil War–era, but he suspected it was less than ten years old. Set amidst tall pines and lush foliage, the home belonged on the cover of Better Homes & Gardens, especially with a 7-UP-can-green lawn surrounding the premises. Her yard looked like a damn golf course.

    “Go on in,” she said after getting out of the sporty red Cobra. “I’ve got some files and stuff I need to grab from the back.”

    Adam slung his overnight bag over a shoulder. Lindsey had insisted he pack it even though Adam had been convinced he wouldn’t need it. “Can I help you with anything?”

    “No, no,” she said, waving him toward the front door as she used her keys to pop open the trunk. “Michelle, my housekeeper, will show you to your room. Just go on in and introduce yourself.”

    But he went over to her, anyway, which might have been a mistake because the minute he was close to her, he smelled her and that seemed somehow wrong. Becca Newman shouldn’t smell like the wildflowers that bloomed near his Kentucky home. And that smell shouldn’t make him want to stand there, to close his eyes and figure out exactly which flowers they were.

    He’d turned into a poetic fool.

    “Here,” he said, holding out his hands.

    “It’s okay,” she said, piling another file atop the five or so she held in her arms. “I’ve got it.”

    “No, you don’t,” he said right as she piled some loose papers on top, except she didn’t get them square and so a few of them glided to the ground with the back and forth motion of falling leaves. “See?” He bent down and scooped them up. When he straightened he realized she wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “Here,” he said, placing them back on top