Hot Finish (Fast Track #3)(9)
Author: Erin McCarthy

He hadn’t meant it like that. He had just meant that instead of talking, they fought out their differences, and it hadn’t gotten them anywhere. “No, that’s not how I see our relationship.” Maybe it had just been too long of a day, with too many weird twists and turns, but as Ryder studied Suzanne’s profile, her narrow, straight nose, her plump lips, her smooth skin still holding a touch of color from the summer sun, her dark blond hair tumbling down onto her shoulders, he felt the rush of former emotions, ones he no longer had but remembered clearly.

“I was happy with you,” he said simply, because it was the truth. He had loved this woman when she’d been his wife.

Of course she was still his wife.

Suzanne gave a sharp laugh, breaking the mood. “Now you’re smoking crack. You were not happy with me.”

He had been, once upon a time, before he’d fallen into a pit of relationship quicksand he hadn’t been able to haul himself out of. “Ten bucks says I was.”

She pulled up to the road, looking left for traffic. “Please. How are you going to prove it one way or the other? I’m not taking that bet. Where is your car?”

“At Slim and Chubby’s bar. Next intersection.”

“What an awful name for a bar,” she said absently as she whipped her SUV out into traffic.

He didn’t give a shit about the offensive bar name. What he cared about was getting Suzanne to understand, to acknowledge that, at times, their marriage had been good. He wasn’t sure why it mattered right then and there, but it did.

“Come in and have a drink with me.”

She raised her eyebrows, but she said easily enough, “Okay. One drink. I thought maybe we could call the lawyer and leave him a message that we want to have a conference call to discuss what we need to do. Are you cool with that? That way we’re both hearing what he says, so we both feel in control.”

“Sure.” He didn’t have the same need she did to be in charge of the situation, but he wanted her to see that he could do what was needed. That he wasn’t always a total screwup who forgot everything.

“Great.” Suzanne parked her car next to his truck in the bar’s parking lot and pulled out her cell phone. “When can you take a conference call? How does tomorrow at noon sound?”

Ryder scanned his mental calendar for conflicts and didn’t come up with any. The next few weeks were the lightest of the whole year for him since the season was over and they wouldn’t start intensive training for Daytona until December. “That works.”

“Great.” Suzanne dialed a number and left a message asking for the lawyer to call her at noon the next day. She hung up and gave a huge exhalation of air. “That’s done. Hit me with a big old martini.”

“My pleasure. It’s been a long day for you, you deserve it.” Ryder got out of the car and waited for her.

Suzanne followed suit and beeped her SUV locked. “Lord, tell me about it. The next five weeks are going to be hell working with Nikki. It’s a lot to pull together in a short amount of time even with an intelligent bride.”

Ryder grinned, holding the door to the bar open for her. “And no one is ever going to accuse Nikki of intelligence.”

“Nope.”

They went into the typical bar, with its dark wood and stale air. The bartender looked bored, and there were only a few patrons in the place, most staring sullenly at the big TVs mounted over the liquor bottles. Suzanne sank onto a bar stool and sighed.

“An appletini, please,” she told the bartender. “And if you put sugar on the rim, I will love you forever.”

The man, just an average-looking guy in his late twenties, smiled at her, his lip ring flashing in the overhead light. “You got it, sweetie.”

Ryder felt a rush of jealousy, which was so stupid he didn’t even want to acknowledge that’s what it was. But when his ex-wife, excuse me, wife, laughed and smiled back, there was no denying those ugly feelings.

“I’ll have a whiskey,” he told the bartender. “And leave our tab open.”

Suzanne gave him a funny look, but the idiot behind the counter got the message. “No problem,” he said, running his eyes over Ryder like he found him lacking.

“You better be paying,” Suzanne said to him.

“Don’t insult me, Suz.” She had changed her clothes, exchanging the skirt for a pair of jeans and some short black boots. Ryder liked the softness of the jeans, the casual way her knees fell slightly open. “When have I ever been a cheapskate?”

She nudged his leg with hers. “You got me there. You were always generous, still are. Except for the granite countertops in the motor home. Do you remember how much shit you gave me over that?”

“They were expensive! It seemed stupid for just our RV. I know I’m in it every weekend, but those countertops cost as much as a used car.”

“We didn’t need a used car. We needed granite countertops. And I bet they still look fabulous.”

The bartender placed his whiskey down in front of him and Ryder took a sip before giving her a smile. “They do. But I open my beer bottles on them. Does that piss you off?”

She laughed. “Of course you do, and of course it pisses me off.” But she didn’t sound remotely angry as she picked up her martini and drained half of it, then sighed.

“Damn, you thirsty? I’m going to end up driving you back home if you down them like that.”

“I guess I could think of worse things.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few seconds, and Ryder felt his muscles relaxing. It was nice just to hang out with her, to feel comfortable. Maybe he shouldn’t go there, wreck the few moments of peace between them, but there was something he’d been curious about for a long time. “Hey, Suz, I always wanted to ask you, why didn’t you change your name back to your maiden name?”

She shrugged. “Too much paperwork.”

He’d figured it had to be something as simple as that, and not anything to do with nostalgia. That really wasn’t Suz, but it still deflated him a little. “Well, I can understand that. You know how I am with paperwork.”

She laughed. “Oh, trust me, I know how you are with paperwork. Besides, it was a good name to have doing my work for the foundation . . . Everyone associated with racing in any way knows who you are, of course.” Then she shot him a grin. “And you know what my maiden name was. Did you honestly think I was dying to return to being Suzanne Hickey?”