Lapped Traffic – This refers to any cars that are not on the same lap as the leader.
Leaving Jameson in Vegas was difficult, but I needed to do it. The only way he was going to understand any of this was if I left him alone. Being around me, he wouldn’t understand it.
I had my reasoning.
A few days after Arie, Casten, and I flew out to Washington, I was ready to go home. I made use of my time there, though, and took care of any loose ends at the track. I also visited my parent’s graves, something I hadn’t done in years.
Casten spent the morning at the track with some friends while Arie and I snuck off to their gravesites.
We sat in comfortable silence before Arie glanced over at me. “Does it ever get easier for you, Mama?”
“No baby, but the pain fades eventually.”
Arie looked over at me, her eyes worried. “How old were you?”
“I was six when my mom died and twenty-three when Charlie died.”
“I don’t know what I would do without you and Daddy.”
“I know....”
When I thought about my kids and the childhood they’d had so far, I couldn’t think of any time when they’d said they felt neglected or missed us. Jameson might’ve raced a lot and sure, we didn’t see him for weeks at a time, but that was always been our life. They didn’t know any differently, just like Jameson didn’t growing up.
All the things I loved about my childhood—my mom, Charlie—I found those things in my life now... with Jameson and our family.
I knew I shouldn’t be mad at Jameson for lying to me. He was protecting me from the evil pit lizards. I understood that. But it hurt that he didn’t feel he could tell me. Jameson knew me well enough to know I wasn’t jealous of them. What made him think I couldn’t handle it?
No one wanted a marriage to fail, who would? And, no, I didn’t think my marriage was a failure at all. One thing was particularly important to remember: you fell in love in the first place. Remember why you fell in love. Remember that feeling you got when you knew you loved them, and remember the feeling you got when you knew they loved you back.
That was what kept the marriage from failing.
I remember the exact moment I fell in love with Jameson. It was in the pits at Knoxville. I also remember when I finally realized he loved me back that night in Savannah.
Leaving probably wasn’t the best answer given the circumstances. Jameson was over-systematical in everything he did. When I saw the results from the Richmond race where he blew a motor after forty laps, I realized he’d pushed himself into blowing his engine. He did this when he pushed himself too hard.
After a week in Washington, we flew home to face reality.
WHEN I ARRIVED back in Mooresville I stopped by the shop to make sure Katie, the payroll manager for JAR Racing, had gotten all the checks out to the boys on time. Last month she’d forgotten.
That never went over well, so I decided to make sure she hadn’t forgotten this month.
She wasn’t there, but I found the paperwork that said she’d taken care of it and even managed to get the rest of the staff on JAR Racing’s payroll paid, too.
As I was leaving, Nadia Henley caught me. She was driving for Leddy Motorsports, whose shop just so happened to be across the street from us.
I wasn’t blind to the women around my husband. Obviously. When Nadia started in the Cup series, I thought of her as just another driver.
I saw the attention Nadia invested into Jameson and his thoughts. She’d start off by asking for his advice at the track, which he was willing to give. Then casually, she’d touch him. It could be as simple as brushing her arm against his, but still, she was going out of her way to touch him. Something I didn’t appreciate it.
When I asked Jameson about her, I didn’t intend to accuse him of any wrongdoing. But in the heat of the moment, I asked anyway.
Now that I thought about it, it wasn’t Jameson who I needed to talk to. If I had these feelings, I needed to go to the source, and that was Nadia.
“Hey, Sway, have you seen Jameson?” Nadia greeted me that afternoon.
I wanted to say, “Well no, we haven’t seen each other in almost three weeks because I caught a naked woman in his hotel room.”
I didn’t say that.
“Yes, he’s at home right now.”
“Oh, Justin said he was flying back with Jimi today.”
Well, fuck.
“He is.”
Nadia wasn’t exactly all brains, but she picked up on my lie and smiled.
“Nadia, I think we need to talk about some things.”
She smiled again, her innocence showing, and I wanted to punch her. I knew it would be immature, but any woman in her right mind would want to resort to childlike tendencies when her children or man was being threatened. But I took the mature route.
“I know that you have been trying to tempt my husband,” she started to interject, but I held up my hand. “Now, before you start defending your actions or saying he’s attracted to you or whatever, I’ve heard them all before. The thing is…” I tipped my head slightly, trying to find the best way to put it, and I decided I just didn’t give a shit. There was no light way of putting it. She needed to know. “You seem to have this version of Jameson you’ve created in your head as a guy who would leave his wife. You see the version of Jameson who battles each week with other racers and gets in the faces of reporters who question his fighting for the win. You don’t see the version he lets me see. The side that is broken, bare, and vulnerable to the words that can destroy him. I see that because I’m his wife.”
Nadia looked at me for a long moment before her eyes shifted to the sign that read “JAR Racing” outside the parking lot.
Her gaze shifted back to me, wounded, but seeing what I intended her to see.
“Not many guys take a girl in racing seriously,” she spoke softly. “He did. He raced me the way any other driver would and for that, I respected him. I just thought, well, I thought wrong. I’m sorry.”
After a few more parting words, we went about our ways.
I honestly thought that’d be the last time I saw Nadia come on to Jameson, but it wasn’t. She tried numerous times to get to Jameson, all with no success. For me, personally, I had to keep in mind that this sort of thing happened with this lifestyle. We would never be immune to it, just as there would always be rival drivers.
“What are you going to tell her?”
I just grunted in reply, and then realized who I was talking to, and that answer wouldn’t fly.
“I guess I would say....” I started to speak and then stopped.
For the past week, I’d been holding on and hoping not to fall apart without her.
When that didn’t work, I just went about my day, praying she’d take me back. In my head I told myself I’d give her one more day before I’d call. Well, that was three weeks ago, and I still hadn’t called because I didn’t know what to say.
That was when my dad told me she was home. There I was, on the plane back to Mooresville Sunday evening, going over schedules for the next season, as well as sponsorships.
I wasn’t surprised. Lately, I had been involved more with the business side of Riley-Simplex Racing, as I was with JAR Racing, therefore, my time was limited. Usually I preferred to just drive the cars, but I enjoyed my dad coming to me and asking what I thought of certain moves within the company. After all, our program had grown considerably in the last fifteen years.
The more I thought about what I’d say to Sway, the more I didn’t know and just blurted out what I thought.
“That I love her and I’m sorry,” I told him, handing him my recommendations on the third driver he was adding next year.
“Jesus, I thought you were smarter than that.”
I wasn’t sure if he was referring to my idea with Sway or my thoughts on his driver picks.
“And what would you say, old wise one?”
“For starters, I would try to understand why she’s bothered so much by the lying.”
Right, he was talking about Sway.
I didn’t like that my dad was right, but he had a point. He always did.
That week after she left I called every day, but it went straight to voicemail. Van assured me she was fine, and I didn’t press as to what she was doing. I said I’d give her time and that I did. That was a lie; I didn’t agree to any of this, but what choice did I have? I fucked up, again.
There was only one way to fix this, and I needed her forgiveness and trust—which weren’t things she just gave away.
When I arrived home in Mooresville that night, I was surprised and relieved to see Sway’s car there. What surprised me even more was her crying in our bed.
Part of me, the paranoid part, envisioned her with a suitcase, waiting on the front porch.
That wasn’t my wife, though. She was in this to the end. Just because we’d fallen off pace didn’t mean she took the car to the garage and gave up home. She would be the one making pit stops to fix everything she could.
Sway had been ignoring my phone calls all week and now, worst of all, I had to listen to her cry. I had to listen to the woman who owned my heart cry, because I, once again, had broken hers. She trusted me with everything, and I had let her down. I knew it wasn’t about the women. It was the lying, something we swore we’d never do.
I wouldn’t be able to sleep until we spoke so I watched through the curtains in our room as the sky turned to a hazy pink and eventually her crying stopped.
Finally, she let me hold her, while she cried a little more. Her tears fell down her face, soaking my shirt. I told her over and over again how sorry I was.
Although my phone had been vibrating for the past two hours, I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather be doing than holding and comforting my wife.
Sway groaned when she heard my phone vibrating, and her body shifted under the sheets, revealing patches of skin I hadn’t seen in weeks.
She yawned. “We should get up soon.”
“No, I want to stay here with you.” Our bodies brushed against each others under the sheets.
Sway grumbled into the pillow, “I need coffee.”
I knew I wouldn’t be forgiven right away, but it wouldn’t stop me from apologizing. “I’m so sorry, honey. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Do you understand why it hurts?” she finally asked.
“Yes, I do,” I turned her around in my arms to face her. She blinked a few times, clearing the tears from her eyes. “I lied to you. Worst of all, I kept something from you because I thought it was best for you.” Moving my hand from her waist, I cupped the apple of her cheek and leaned in to kiss her lips. She didn’t hesitate to return the kiss. “That’s exactly what Charlie and Rachel did to you.” My eyes focused intently on her, trying to make her grasp the meaning. “I will never lie to you again.”
“I know you won’t,” she said, leaning in to kiss me again. Our lips moved softly for a moment before she pulled away. “Please don’t. I want to know. I can’t take it when someone thinks they know how I will react.”
That next morning, after showering, I walked downstairs to find Sway making blueberry pancakes, the sweet smell of syrup and my favorite fruit carried throughout our home.
All smiles when I stepped into the kitchen, my smile grew wider when I saw she was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of my very first Simplex t-shirts that had holes from where it caught on fire. I’d seen Sway in some of the most amazing dresses ever designed, but I preferred her just like this.
“I could get used to this,” leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen, I let my bare foot slide up her leg.
“Morning,” she smiled, licking syrup from her fingers. She pushed a plate of pancakes toward me, motioning for me to eat.
“Breakfast is ready!” she yelled up the stairs for the kids. When Sway turned around, I had my arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against me.
“You get that I’m sorry, right?”
“I do... and I know you understand why.” Though she spoke the words, her eyes showed the fear. Fear I was determined to make disappear, and that would take time. Anyone who knew me knew I was incapable of waiting. But for her I would. I made a vow when we married and for her, I’d keep it through whatever life threw at us.
Casten was the first downstairs, jumping up onto one of the stools.
“Thank God she forgave you,” his eyes widened at the sight of pancakes as he pushed his hair from his face. Sway hated it, but he refused to let her cut it these days. “I thought we’d never eat again.”
Sways slapped the back of his head. “I cooked for you in Washington.”
Buttering two blueberry pancakes and pouring an ungodly amount of syrup on them, Casten raised an eyebrow at Sway. “I don’t think—”
“You shut up.” Sway laughed, smacking his shoulder. “At least you had food.”
“I don’t consider McDonald’s food,” Arie added, sitting next to Casten who looked over at her pajamas, shaking his head.
“You look ridiculous,” Casten told her.
Sway and I just sat back and watched after that when Axel came stumbling down the steps sporting a black eye and a fat lip.
“And where have you—” Casten asked, but was cut off rather quickly by Axel pushing him off the stool onto the tile floor.
“Oh, my God, Axel,” Sway balked. “Don’t do that to him.”
Casten, pleased that he’d gotten attention from his mom, added fuel to the fire and pretended to be hurt.
Turned out, while racing in the Silver Crown series, Axel got into a fight with some kid who thought Axel needed a reality check. I guess my little five-foot-three son showed him a thing or two because he broke the kid’s nose and dislocated his jaw.
Axel, a tad sheepish, didn’t have much to say. Just like me, his aggression frequently got the best of him, and then the consequences came crashing down. For the altercation, USAC suspended him from all three divisions for two races.
“Should you talk to him?” Sway asked when Axel left with Lily later that morning.
I had to leave for Charlotte later that morning, but I did plan to talk to him about it.
“I will. Just let him calm down. Right now, it wouldn’t do any good.”
“All right, just... don’t want this to turn into anything.”
Kissing the top of her forehead as she reached for the plates on the island, I whispered into her ear, “Wait up for me tonight, please.”
Her eyes sparkled with a sense of need, the same need I had.
“Don’t be late,” she tried to hide the smirk but couldn’t very well. “You have some making up to do.”
“I know.”
“And take out the garbage.”
“On it.”
“And feed Rev,” she added. “The last time I fed that damn dog he knocked me into the pool.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”
I was more implying about the way last weekend played out, but I was sorry about Rev. The dog outweighed Sway and thought she was his own personal chew toy.
Sway, well, she had other ideas about that.
“That’s a long list there, champ.”
“Well, then you’d better get a pen and start writing anything else you want me to do. I don’t have all day.”
Instead, she grabbed a sharpie from a drawer and wrote on the inside of my hand. “Be home by nine or else.”
“Nine it is.”
I did one better and was home by seven that night, making sure the kids had something to keep them busy. Axel was with Lily before he left for Terra Haute. Casten was with Cole at Spencer’s house for the night, building ramps for their dirt bike track. And Arie was with my mom, shopping in New York. I was not thrilled with my daughter shopping in New York either. It was too yuppie for me, but whatever pleased my little girl pleased me.
“Sway?” I called out when Casten finally left with Cole.
“In the bathroom,” she answered.
We only had six in the house so it took a few to find her.
And there she was, in the large sunken whirlpool tub in our master bathroom covered with bubbles. Her long, dark mahogany hair swept over the side, her legs were bent revealing only her knees. She was stunning and just as beautiful as the day I had met her. Only now, she was a woman, a woman who owned me entirely.
I took my time walking toward her, stripping away my clothes as I walked, my eyes focused on hers as she smiled up at me. The warm glow from the candles lit throughout the bathroom made her green eyes smolder. Or it could’ve been that we hadn’t been together sexually in nearly two months between our schedules and her trip to Washington.
Glimmering flecks of light radiated from her as her legs moved under the water. “You gonna join me or just stare at me?”
“I’m taking off my clothes, aren’t I?”
Before she could say any more, I was slipping into the tub with her.
Sway’s head leaned back as my arms wrapped around her. Though I wouldn’t say it, this reminded me of the time I accused her of sleeping with Mike. If there was an award for the worst husband of the year, or decade, I’d definitely be in the running for it.
“I went to see Charlie and Rachel’s graves. Arie went with me.”
“Mmmm...” gently, I kissed along her collarbone, sweeping her hair away from her neck as my lips got closer to her neck. My left hand wrapped around her hair pulling it to one side to give me better access to her skin.
Sway melted at my touch, her body relaxing instantly as her head leaned back. It’d always been virtually staggering to me what just being in the arms of a woman could do for a man. Back in the day, I took it for granted, compared to now, where I couldn’t get enough.
“Was it hard for you?”
Sway leaned her head to one side, her legs shifting in the water. “Harder than I thought. It never gets any easier for me.” I kissed her shoulder once more, taking the sponge on the tile next to the shower and covering her chest with warm water as she spoke softly. “I just thought... maybe it might get easier, you know?”
“It won’t. I wish it would, but it will never go away.”
Her hands reached for mine, her finger running over callouses formed from years of racing and engine work.
“I know that you never meant to lie to me.”
“Good.” My lips brushed over her shoulder once more. “I would never intentionally hurt you.”
We laid in the tub until the water was cool enough that Sway was shivering worse than Arie was the time she spent four hours in the back of Spencer’s truck.
Once in our room, I warmed her up physically after playing the piano for her. She insisted.
“I want this to be good for you,” I said, kissing her cheek softly as I laid her in the middle of our bed. Her legs spread, allowing me the contact I wanted.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” she seemed genuinely curious. “We’re good at this. Make up sex is good for us.”
I chuckled against her lips. “I have about two months of pent up sexual frustration. I’ll probably only last thirty-two seconds.”
She laughed at my admission, kissing my neck softly. “Don’t worry... it will be like my first time. Though that lasted about a minute so he’s got you beat there.”
I glared, she laughed. “I won’t let that fucker last longer than me. Get me a stopwatch. I’m going for one minute, and one-tenth of a second.”
Her response was to push her hips into mine, her hands finding my hair. “That is definitely not helping me set fast time or in my case, slow time,” I told her, shifting away.
“Jameson...” she whimpered, reaching for me. “You forgot it’s been two months for me, too.”
“Shhh...” I whispered, kissing the path down her chest to between her thighs. “I need a sponsorship guarantee.”
I did some of my best deburring during that time, and from her moans, I’d say she enjoyed it. Chuckling to myself, and quite proud I might add, I crawled back up her body and rested between her legs, preparing for some much needed align boring. “Now prepare for the best minute of your life.”
After I returned home, it took Jameson a day or so, and he seemed to think he needed to apologize more.
That night, though incredibly emotional, was probably one of the strongest connections we’d had in a while.
I found him in the kitchen, staring at the lake through the sliding glass doors.
“Jameson,” my hands crept over his shoulders as I pressed my chest to his back. “I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up over this. You said what you needed to say. I said what I needed. Let’s just move on from this.”
He turned to face me.
“Stop,” he breathed, parting his lips over mine. “I know I was wrong, but I told myself I was doing the right thing.” His lashes glistened as though they were diamonds.
The fault here lies within me. I shouldn’t have left, and I knew that. Face the fear that drowns the light, was what I always told myself.
Did I listen? No.
His hands were restless, searching for himself between the shadow and smoke. He needed me, and I knew that. He never meant to hurt me.
The sun was setting over the lake, chalky orange smudging the sky. Standing against the counter, I looked over at him when no words were spoken.
“Will you go with me somewhere tonight?” he asked, flickering his gaze to mine.
I blinked slowly, the sight of him being so vulnerable brought back so many memories, and my heart ached for him, for us.
His smile was soft, slightly higher at one side of his mouth, and my heart stumbled, reminded me of the child in him I once knew. It was reassuring when I saw that side of him comforted by the innocence.
I stroked his jaw and shivered, outlining the curve of his smile as my fingers moved to rest at his mouth.
Our lives, much like cars straight out of the hauler, were never perfect right from the start. They required adjustments along the way. This wasn’t any different.
I followed him up the stairs to our room where he pressed me against the wall. The light shining through our room was soft just like his touches. Inside the room, he had “Purple Rain” playing softly.
My mind flashed to that first night in Charlotte and the way his hand felt on me as he asked me to stay with him. And here, in a roundabout way, he was begging me to stay again.
The moment got to me. This was his way of apologizing again. I made a strangled noise and turned my face away.
“Don’t do that,” he choked out, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “Don’t do that, please. I’m holding on by a string right now and to see you cry... I can’t handle it.”
He pushed my dress away, and his hands lingered, memorizing each curve, the fabric rustled as it descended. His shirt quickly followed while our mouths became desperate.
His hand slipped around my back, his other rising as he grasped my hair and moans swallowed us as I pushed and pulled and arched my way to his belt. With his buckle loosened and pants unzipped, I worked hard to get his clothing aside.
His strong hands trailed over my body, and then his voice brought me back to his face.
“Tell me you love me,” he panted, shifting his position to look at me.
I pushed his hair from his forehead, my gaze lingering and holding focus with his eyes before my lips found his.
“I love you,” I told him between kisses.
He kicked away the remaining barriers of clothing, supporting my head as he laid me down on the mattress. His knee was between my thighs, tongue between my lips and my hands greedily made their way over his back and tried to bring him closer.
His look was long and hard, our loud breathing filled the room as his hands rested on either side of my head, and he pushed forward. His knees spread my legs; each movement was slow and so good.
He pressed his chest closer, warm skin comforting.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” he murmured, staring down at me.
“Because it knows you,” I said quietly.
He shivered, my hands grasping his hair as his head tilted back, and then his trembling lips found my neck. He swallowed thickly, his mouth returning to mine.
Trembling fingers found my heart. “God, honey, I’d give anything to live right here,” he breathed, his arms shaking as he held himself above me. “In your heart. Always.”
I tasted the tears at the back of my throat. “You already do. Always.”
Exhaling, he pressed his lips once more to my chest. He studied my body with his eyes and tongue. I gripped the sheets and urged for speed as his fingers curled into the pillow.
I made a noise when he entered me, and he stopped, waiting for me to respond.
“No, keep going.”
And he did. Just his skin against mine calmed me and assured me I was the only one. I knew that already, though.
Nothing compared to this feeling, to the weight of his body as he groaned and pressed himself closer, filling me with his love. But it wasn’t suffocating at all. It was finally being able to breathe. These moments of skin against skin were the only time I could really breathe.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he panted, focusing on my face. “Flushed and breathless beneath me… because of me.” He accentuated his words with a soft grunt, his breath hot on my cheek.
My lashes fluttered, but I didn’t close my eyes. I wanted to see his face. The way his lids fell and opened, and the way his mouth parted. I wanted the noises that escaped and the feeling of being wanted. I wanted it all.
He whispered that he never wanted to stop, and I whimpered a plea that no space remained between us.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his nose brushing mine as he traced my bottom lip with his tongue.
He raised himself, hands fisted in the sheets and pushed forward. My eyes found his, grass green, bright with desire and but clouded with lust. My fingertips grazed over his flushed cheeks and then over his shoulders and to his sides.
My nails dug into his sides, while I kissed from chin to temple and back as he cradled my head. My eyes drifted closed and took everything he was giving me, groans chasing whispers of desire.
I guided my palm to his heart.
“Let this always be mine,” I pleaded. His eyes blinked heavy, and my words were low. “Please. Always.”
He took my bottom lip between his teeth before pushing forward one last time, a low moan trapped against skin.
“It’s always been yours, Sway,” he murmured against my chest. “That will never change. Never.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, slick bodies meeting their limit and shadows lighted. Lines that had formed drifted in the wake, and hearts connected in their path. The fear of being alone faded with his embrace, and I knew then we’d be okay.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” he said, staring at me, holding my gaze with a fire that was still present and burning just as bright as the day we formed this sacred bond. “I can’t do this without you. It would kill me if you left me.”
The way he watched me, scrutinizing every breath and every blink assured me there was no bitterness there. He didn’t hate me for leaving and forgave as unconditionally as he loved, with every fiber, every piece of himself that he gave to me. That was the way it always was between us.