Evan hated the fact that he felt a little flicker of hope sparking to life. “So you and Suzanne are really happy now, huh?”
Ryder grinned. “So happy it’ll make you sick.”
Grand gesture. Huh.
Maybe, just maybe, that might work.
And if it didn’t, what was one more head butt into the wall?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“YOU can’t let Evan just quit driving.” Kendall stared across the desk at Carl. “He doesn’t deserve to be forced out.”
The news, which had come to her through Eve, had made Kendall sick to her stomach. Nothing about what was going down between them or between Sara and Evan was anyone’s business in racing. This was his career, his life, and while Kendall still couldn’t bring herself to talk to him, she couldn’t stand the thought of him losing everything.
“No one forced him out.” Carl leaned back in his chair, his expression impassive, eyes slightly narrowed. “He came to me all on his own.”
That just didn’t make any sense. Carl had been gunning for Evan for months. He had to be the impetus behind Evan’s decision. “Why would he do that?”
“Why don’t you ask your husband that question?” Carl said.
Confused, Kendall felt her anger and indignation deflate. She had stormed into Carl’s office, determined to get Evan his spot back, and now she was hearing he didn’t want that spot?
“So you’re saying that Evan still has a car with Hinder Motors?”
“If he wants it, yes.” Carl shrugged. “Look, Kendall, I am not going to deny I’m pissed that you and Evan are out there creating drama. But you were right—personal lives are personal lives, and I’d hate to lose a damn fine driver just because he’s had sex with a woman he shouldn’t have. Hell, I’d lose my whole team if that were the case.”
No doubt that was true. Kendall wasn’t sure what to say, so she just nodded. “Exactly. Thanks, Carl. Glad we’re on the same page.”
“Sounds like you and me are, it’s just Evan that needs to be brought around.”
As she stood up, Kendall wondered how to do that, or if she were even the woman with the right to do it anyway.
“ARE you okay to drive?” Jim asked her an hour before race time.
Kendall frowned at him. “Of course I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
He held his hand up. “You just look like shit, that’s all. Like you haven’t slept in two weeks.”
That would be because she hadn’t. Not one freaking wink, it felt like. Spinning her helmet around in her hands, Kendall lifted up and down on the balls of her feet. “I’m fine.”
“If you’re not, don’t you dare get behind that wheel, ya hear me? I’m not having you jeopardizing your safety or someone else’s.”
“I said I’m fine,” she snapped. “Don’t question my judgment.”
Jim sighed. “I’m not. I’m just worried about you. Don’t you think you ought to at least talk to Evan?”
She did. But what was she supposed to say now that she’d retrieved his wedding ring off her concrete stoop? Now that she’d learned he had just walked away from racing without even consulting her on it?
Of course, she had given him no option to talk to her.
Damn it.
“Mind your own business.” Kendall moved towards her car to check on it. Then suddenly stopped when she glanced up and saw Evan on the jumbo screen, standing on the stage they used for introductions. “What the hell is he doing on the stage?” she asked out loud, to no one in particular.
“I just want to dedicate this to my wife, Kendall Holbrook Monroe, who is going to win the Chase in the not too distant future.”
“Oh, my God.” She couldn’t breathe. What was he doing?
“What is he doing?” Jim stood next to her and gawked up at the screen.
Her entire pit crew was craning their necks as well, all curious, all confused.
“What’s he gonna do?” Kenny, her jackman asked.
“I have no idea.” None whatsoever. Evan was impulsive, but what on earth was he going to say up there?
But then the first notes came out over the infield and she knew. He wasn’t going to talk. “Holy shit . . .” She didn’t know whether to be horrified or deeply touched.
It was Rod Stewart’s “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?”
And Evan opened his mouth and started singing it.
“Holy shit is right,” Jim said. “That boy can’t sing.”
No, he couldn’t. Evan was off-key and warbling, but he was standing up there, mic in hand, belting his heart out. For her.
Good God.
“I’m so embarrassed right now,” Jim added.
“I think it’s highly romantic,” the jackman said. “I’m kinda wishing I was Kendall right now.”
“That’s the freakiest damn thing you’ve ever said.” Jim made a face. “Between Evan and you, I’m getting the willies all the way around.”
Their words were registering in her brain, but Kendall couldn’t respond to them. She could only stare up at the screen. At her husband. He was making a total fool out of himself. For her. Because she had told him that she had always wanted a man to serenade her, though in her fantasies it had been someone more along the lines of Keith Urban, or at the very least in tune.
But she had to admit this was even better.
Tears filled her eyes.
“You’re crying,” Jim said accusingly. “Fuck, f**k, f**k. We’re f**ked. Why is he doing this now?”
“I’m not crying!” Kendall refused to lift her hand and wipe the tears that were now in fact rolling down her cheeks.
She wished Jim would go away. She just wanted to be alone, with Evan.
She wanted to look into his eyes and just see that he loved her.
When Evan finished the song, he said, “If that doesn’t prove I love my wife I just don’t know what does.”
The announcer, who had been standing slightly offstage, walked up next to Evan. “Whew, I’ll say. That was, uh, something else, Evan.” He smiled towards the crowd. “Wasn’t that something else, folks?”
There was a roar of approval up from the fans.
“So how about we get your wife on up here, just for a smile and a wave together?”
Instantly Kendall froze. She couldn’t do that. Just couldn’t do that.
“I’m sure she’s busy at the moment, but how about after the race? Now that I’m done embarrassing myself, I have a car to hop into.” Evan gave a bow and a wave, and the audience cheered loudly again.