Davey awoke thinking about Nora and her one-night decree. She was so different from the women he typically dated. She was sweet and kind, open and honest. He’d be crazy if he didn’t pursue her. He just needed to take it slow, so they could both feel their way into a relationship.

“What do you think, girl?” he asked Daisy, rubbing the dog’s head.

Daisy let out a half-howl, half-bark that Davey took as agreement.

He rolled out of bed, took a shower, then joined Cruz in the kitchen.

Cruz’s eyes narrowed as he approached. “I take it you haven’t turned on ESPN this morning.” He pushed a mug of coffee into Davey’s hands.

“What’s going on?” he asked, as a twinge of unease surfaced.

Cruz picked up the TV remote and waved for Davey to follow. In the living room, Cruz turned on the big-ass TV, which was positioned on the wall of electronics Davey had installed. It was the only section of the room that didn’t cry out for remodeling. Cruz selected “Fallen Sports Heroes” from the list of recordings and pressed play.

What the hell?

“Davey Johnson may be fast in his car, but he’s not fast taking care of his kid,” the reporter said in a smug tone.

Davey’s jaw clenched. He was taking care of his kid. “Where the fuck do they get this stuff?” he grumbled as the reporter droned on about how Davey had recently reunited with his child and how he’d become a deadbeat dad. Why did reporters take glee in reporting dirt, even if it was untrue? They placed sports figures on a damn pedestal, then took joy in knocking them down at any opportunity. As pictures of Davey and Ben at the Talladega race track filled the screen, Davey reached over to grab the remote from Cruz. He’d listened to enough of this bullshit.

Cruz stepped away, taking the remote with him. “You need to hear the rest,” he said in a quiet voice that indicated he meant business.

Crossing his arms, Davey turned his attention back to the television.

“Fast on the track, but not fast with child support,” the asshole reporter said. “According to his son’s guardian, Nora Williams, Davey hasn’t paid a cent in child support.” Red capital letters flashed across the screen: DEADBEAT DAD.

Hurt and disappointment sliced through Davey. Why would Nora throw him under the bus like that? He’d dated a couple of women who had yapped to the media in the past. But damn it, he’d thought Nora had been different.

As Cruz flicked off the TV, Davey picked up his phone and flipped through it. Irritation built as he found the same coverage on Facebook and Twitter. He played his voice messages. The first three were from reporters. He deleted them. The next message was from Cee-Cee.

“Hey man, if you need a few bucks to support your kid, give me a shout,” he said, snickering.

Davey glanced at Cruz who looked as if he might burst into laughter. At least he had the good sense not to.

The next call was from AJ. “NASCAR’s golden boy crashes and burns. Let me know if you want to grab a drink.”

The last message was from his manager. “Pay your damn child support,” Wade said. “Then get your ass back to Charlotte so we can deal with our sponsors and line up some PR.”

“What the fuck?” He lifted his gaze to Cruz. How could Nora betray him like that? If she needed money, all she’d needed to do was ask. Besides, he had offered child support and she’d declined. He didn’t know why she was being so stubborn when it was obvious that she and Ben could use the money. It put him in a difficult position. Ben was his son and his financial responsibility. He’d opened a college fund for Ben, but he needed to do more.

“Wade’s right. We need damage control,” Cruz said, “and you need to talk with Nora.”

“Oh, I’ll talk to her all right,” Davey said through gritted teeth. “What the hell was she thinking?”

“Talk before you jump to conclusions,” Cruz said. “It was probably an innocent comment that the reporter took out of context.”

Davey spared Cruz a long look, grabbed his coat, and stormed out the door. On the drive to Nora’s, he chewed on Cruz’s advice. He would give Nora the benefit of asking if she’d made the child-support statement, but it was obvious that she had talked to the reporter.

As his heart burned with disappointment, a yellow warning flag waved in his head suggesting that he’d gotten in too deep with Nora. He needed to focus on Ben, not on Nora. He also needed to get back to his season and back to the comfort of the women he usually dated. Women who didn’t know him well enough to say squat to the press.

When he pulled in front of Nora’s, his mother was on her front porch talking on her cell. She rose when she spotted him and tucked her phone in her pocket.

Shit. Cruz had probably called her.

“Damn it, Cruz,” he muttered as he jumped out of his truck. He was in no mood to be on good behavior for his mother.

“Want to come in for a cup of coffee?” she asked as he approached.

He hovered in front of the dividing rail that separated the steps between Nora’s and his mother’s. “No, but thanks.”

“It would do you good to calm down before you talk with her,” his mom said.

“Probably so.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Still, no.”

“Can I offer a piece of advice?” she said, making her way toward him.

“If I say no, will you give it anyway?”

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Nora doesn’t have experience with the media,” she said practically echoing Cruz’s words.

That gave Davey no solace. Media trained or not, Nora should have known better than to tell a reporter that he wasn’t paying support, especially since he’d offered and she had refused to accept it. With his piss-meter rising, he tapped his foot on the pavement.

“Go easy on her,” his mother said and then disappeared inside her house.

Shaking off the second request to go easy on Nora, he jogged up her porch steps and rang the doorbell.

As he waited, he contemplated his mother and Cruz’s advice. What if they were right? He could at least start with a question instead of assuming she’d sold him out. He hoped they were right and this was all a big misunderstanding.

Nora pulled open the door wearing yoga pants and a thin sleep shirt with nothing underneath. Her nipples were perky and she was doing her best to put her hands over her chest without being obvious.

“Davey, hi.” She awkwardly clasped her arms together. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Focus, he told himself, and not on her boobs.

“I wasn’t expecting a shit-storm in the media this morning.”

His contentious tone must have caught her attention because she didn’t invite him inside. Instead, she stepped into the middle of the doorway and raised a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you tell a reporter that I wasn’t paying child support?”

“Yes. He asked—”

“Stop,” he said, with a little more force than he had intended. But he didn’t want to hear the rest of her story. He’d held out a smidgeon of hope that Cruz and his mom had been right, but that only made Nora’s disloyalty all the more painful.

“What the hell, Nora?” He pressed a fist into his chest to ease the pain. “Do you have any idea the shit that stirred up? I’m the laughing stock of the racing world and my sponsors are pissed.”

“I didn’t mean—”

He cut her off again. “It doesn’t matter why.” The damage had already been done and he didn’t think he could handle her excuses. Didn’t she have any common sense?

A ray of light filtered through the side porch and shone on Nora’s head. He softened, thinking about how silky her hair had felt when his hands had been in it. She shifted to get out of the direct sun, and he snapped out of his daze. Damn it, he had thought she’d been different.

Focus. He’d lost track of the golden rule. The one and only rule his father had drilled into him. Lose focus and you lose. That sure as hell had been the case here. He needed to get back to a singular focus on racing.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of money, and thrust it toward her. “Take this,” he said forcing a calm into his voice. His only consolation was that he knew what it was like to grow up not knowing where your next dime would come from and he didn’t want his son to live that way. Hell, despite everything, he didn’t want Nora to either. Empathy chipped away at some of his irritation. “I’ll pay support, Nora, like I offered before. But, if you or Ben need money, just ask, okay? Don’t talk to the reporters.”

Nora didn’t answer nor did she take the money. He wondered what she was thinking, but he had bigger issues to deal with. “I was supposed to take Ben out tomorrow but I have to get back to Charlotte to deal with my sponsors.”

“I didn’t mean to cause you issues.” Nora put a hand on her hip. “But you didn’t give me the chance to explain.”

“Because you admitted—”

This time Nora cut him off, which he supposed he deserved. She was right, he hadn’t listened. “I don’t want your damn money. We were doing fine before you showed up and we’ll be fine when you leave,” she said, and then she slammed the door in his face.

Davey stared out the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows of his Charlotte penthouse with his hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee. He’d been back for a week, but he hadn’t experienced his typical season opening excitement and he couldn’t understand why. He’d had flawless practice runs and Cruz had the 36 humming. He’d done PR and had dealt with his sponsors who had all accepted that the ‘Deadbeat Dad’ report had been a colossal misunderstanding.

And it had been a misunderstanding. He chastised himself—for about the millionth time—for not listening to Cruz or to his mother. Even worse, he hadn’t listened to Nora.

He’d been hurt and let down and he hadn’t known how to deal with it. Before Nora and Ben, he’d been the king of stuffing his feelings deep inside. But his inner kingdom had crumbled and he was in a new land with new feelings. He had no experience to help him navigate through this unchartered territory.

The only thing he knew for sure was what not to do. In the future, he would shut his pie hole and listen. Had he done that with Nora, she would be talking to him instead of avoiding him like the plague. He’d disappointed Ben and had abandoned Nora when he’d abruptly left to go to Charlotte. He’d had to make the trip to deal with his sponsors, but he hated that he’d failed both Ben and Nora. And he’d played right into Nora’s belief that when the going gets tough, men leave.

Cruz had filled him in on what had really happened after his mother had updated Cruz. The reporter had asked Nora if he’d paid child support. Nora had given an honest ‘no’ response, but she had added that he’d offered and she’d declined. The reporter had neglected to include that. He’d also left out the other good stuff that Nora had shared about how he had taken them all to Alabama at Christmas, and how he’d bonded with Ben since becoming aware of his existence. His mom had called him earlier in the week and said that Nora felt terrible over the trouble she had caused. But apparently not so much that she wanted to speak with him.

 He had talked with Ben every night since he’d been in Charlotte, but Nora hadn’t answered any of his calls or text messages. Earlier in the week both Cruz and Wade had told him he needed to grovel and ask for forgiveness. He didn’t know how to grovel, but he desperately wanted to connect with Nora, to apologize and to make amends.

Sipping coffee, he gazed across the uptown Charlotte skyline. He used to love the people, the crowds, the anonymity. But at this moment all he felt was lonely.

Angry at himself and frustrated with Nora for giving him the cold shoulder, even though he totally deserved it, he’d tried to alleviate his loneliness last night with Eden, the hot cousin of Cee-Cee’s latest squeeze. Davey and Eden had gone on a double-date with Cee-Cee and Georgiana, but it had been a complete disaster. Instead of Davey’s usual mode, engaging in the easy flirtation that was second nature to him, he’d brooded over Nora. When Eden had picked at her salad with no dressing, he’d thought about Nora and how she had unapologetically dug into her food. When he’d been prickly, Eden had made excuses for him. Nora would have called him on the carpet.

While he should have appreciated Eden’s petite figure—tiny except for ginormous, man-made boobs—all he could think about was Nora’s delectable curves. Nora’s breasts were every bit as big as Eden’s, but they’d been soft, squeezable, and so very real. He couldn’t stop thinking about her sweet ass either; he’d loved holding on to it when they’d made love. Cee-Cee had pulled Davey aside half-way through the night to inform him that Eden was in hot demand and if he didn’t get his shit together, she would move on.

He’d tried to get his shit together, but it hadn’t worked. Eden had been hotter than South Georgia in August, but he’d felt absolutely nothing for her and hadn’t been able to go through with the date. Instead, he’d given her the truth—he was hung up on someone else. Eden had been gracious about the whole thing. Cee-Cee, not so much.

That had never happened to Davey. Sure, he’d gone out with women with whom he hadn’t experienced fiery attraction, but he’d always been up for a good time even if it had just been for one night. Maybe he’d lost his mojo. A wave of worry shot through him as he pondered what the hell was happening.

The answer hit him in the head like a ton of bricks.

Nora.

When the Sunday newspaper thunked outside his door, Davey shook off thoughts of last night. He made his way through the oversized living room, across the dark hardwood floors, and past the exposed brick walls.

He retrieved the paper, took it inside, and tossed it on the kitchen table. He turned to grab his coffee but spun around when he spotted a picture of himself out of the corner of his eye. His heart leapt into his throat. Damn it, not again.

Lifting the paper, he read the headline: Davey Johnson: All-Star Dad. Scanning the article, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. It gave Nora’s explanation of the omission from the last piece. It quoted her as saying he’d been nothing but a stellar father since the day he’d found out about Ben—which was nice, even though they both knew it was a lie. She’d also said he was now paying child support—another lie since she had yet to give him her checking account number.

Sinking onto a chair, he flipped to the life section and read the rest of the article which lavished more praise on his parenting skills. There were also photos, mostly of him and Ben. One included him, Nora, Ben, and Lucas in the hotel lobby in Birmingham. A rush of happy memories flooded Davey. In the picture, Nora had her hands wrapped around his arm and she was laughing into the camera. Gazing at Nora, his breath caught.

When a knock sounded, he put the paper down. “Come in,” he called out. Because his suite took up the entire top floor and the building had security tighter than the CIA, he rarely locked his door. Cruz lived a few floors down and was the only person other than Security who had access to the top floor. Security made all deliveries, so Davey never had uninvited visitors.

Cruz sauntered in with a newspaper in hand.

“Yeah.” Davey rose to get Cruz a cup of coffee. “I saw it.”

“For someone with no media experience, Nora sure hit on all the right things,” Cruz said, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

Davey brought over a cup of coffee fixed just the way Cruz liked it, with a splash of cream. “She’s still not talking to me.”

“You can fix that,” Cruz drawled, taking a long sip of his coffee. “You just need to decide if you want to make the effort.”

For the first time in Davey’s adult dating life, he wanted to make the effort. He sat next to Cruz and clasped his hands on his lap. “Will you help me?”