When he put on the baseball cap and kept walking without stopping to talk to anyone, she got it. No one was supposed to know he was here.

“Driving instead of taking a helicopter might have made your entrance a little more anonymous,” she teased.

“No one noticed, and we got here faster.”

Now that she thought about it, everyone’s attention had been on the cars.

They bought tickets and climbed to the cheap seats. A few minutes later, the first race began.

The cars were recognizable street vehicles. Cruz explained which modifications were allowed. A guy in a BMW won the heat.

“Is he the one you’re interested in?” she asked.

“No. He’s all flash. The guy I want races next.”

She looked around at the different people watching the race. This wasn’t a big NASCAR type event, with sponsors and a huge crowd. It was local and intense because everyone there had a stake in what happened.

There were a lot of women, here. More than she would have thought. She studied the crowd, getting an idea of the number of women attending.

“I wonder if I could put a day spa in a truck,” she murmured.

“What?”

“There are a lot of women here. I’m sure many of them live for the races, but a good percentage are probably just tagging along. If I had a trailer set up with a couple of manicure and pedicure stations, maybe a good chair for facials, I could make a killing here. How big is the NASCAR circuit?”

Instead of answering, he leaned in and kissed her. “You’re pretty smart for a girl.”

“I can’t decide if I should sock you in the arm or say thank you. That was a very sexist thing to say.”

“Want to punish me later?”

“Maybe.”

She returned her attention to the crowed and noticed a few guys looking at them and nudged Cruz. “You’ve been spotted,” she whispered.

He followed her gaze, then looked at her. “No, querida, I haven’t. They’re looking at you.”

She turned toward the guys. One of them waved. She slid closer to Cruz. He laughed.

The second race had six cars in it. She watched the red Mustang he’d pointed out earlier, willing the kid to win.

The cars took off in a cloud of dust, engines racing. One started to skid right away. Another bumped into the hay marking a curve in the course and then spun out off the track. The other four drove on, keeping pace with each other.

Three laps later, there were only three cars left. The Mustang was behind the other two, but keeping pace. He took an unexpected opening and shot into the lead. The second-place car tried to pass, hit the Mustang’s bumper and the remaining car zoomed past to take the win.

Lexi groaned. “That’s not fair. They shouldn’t be hitting each other.”

“They’re not trying to, but it happens.” Cruz stood. “You ready?”

“Are we done? That’s it?”

“I’ve seen what I need to see. Unless you want to stay longer.”

“That’s okay.”

He took her hand and led her down to the track where several people congratulated the winner. Cruz ignored them and walked toward a guy standing next to the Mustang.

The kid was maybe seventeen. He was tall and skinny. Frustration pulled at his features as he bent over the gouge in the back panel.

“Justin Thibodeaux?”

The kid straightened and turned. “That’s me,” he said, looking wary. “Who wants to know?”

He spoke with a slight cadence. Cajun? Lexi liked the look of him, how he stood up to Cruz, who could be pretty scary on first meeting.

“I do,” Cruz told him. “I saw you drive.”

“You saw me lose.” He crouched by his car. “I’ll get it next time.”

“You were pretty smooth at the end, finding the space to move up. Then you forgot to get out of the way.”

The kid ignored him.

“You’ve got good instincts, but they’re not going to be enough. You need to learn a hell of a lot more. If you’re serious about racing.”

Justin stood and faced Cruz. “I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t, but you could.”

Justin’s chin came up. “Who are you?”

Cruz pulled a card out of his shirt pocket and handed it to the kid. Justin’s eyes widened. He swore, then apologized.

“I mean, it’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Rodriguez.”

Cruz shook his head. “You can call me Cruz. I’m looking for a new driver. You’d start at the bottom and earn your way up. I’d expect you to move to Dallas and work in my shop. That would pay the bills. You’d drive in your spare time. It’s long hours and not much fun. But if you stick with it-if you have what I think you have-you’ll be driving full-time in less than a year. You interested?”

Justin started talking in a combination of French, English and something Lexi didn’t recognize. Then he held out his hand.

“I’m interested. Just tell me where to go and I’m there. I do whatever you say.”

Cruz narrowed his gaze. “You eighteen yet?”

“Four months ago.”

“Bring proof. The address is on the back of the card. Get there by Thursday. Ask for Manny. He’ll get you settled. If your parents need to talk to someone, have them call me directly.”

Justin shook Cruz’s hand again, turned to Lexi and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you,” he said, practically glowing. “Thank you so much. You won’t be sorry. I’m going to be the best. You’ll see.”

“I’m counting on it.”

The kid let out a loud whoop, then ran off.

Lexi turned to Cruz. “That was fun. Can we do it again?”

“He’s the only one here I’m interested in. Want to come next time I’m checking out talent?”

“Yeah. This has to be the best part of your day.”

He frowned. “I don’t want you talking about this. The world thinks I’m a cold-hearted bastard. That doesn’t need to change.”

She moved close enough to kiss him, then brushed his mouth with hers. “But now I know the truth. You’re actually sweet.”

He winced. “Not the word I would use.”

“But it’s true. You’re a total softie.”

“Lexi,” he growled.

She laughed. “Your secret is safe with me, big guy.”

They walked around the track, toward the helicopter. Lexi’s chest was tight…as if she too was filled with emotion. This was good, she told herself. Better than good. Cruz had shown her a side of him she hadn’t known existed. There was a person inside-someone she could like. Maybe someone she could more than like.

“GET YOUR LEG higher,” Dana yelled. “He broke your heart. Worse-he said your new pair of pick-a-designer pair of shoes was stupid.”

Lexi straightened and rubbed her nose with the back of her boxing gloves. “Pick your designer? That’s the best you can do? Come on, Dana. Everyone knows Manolo. Even you.”

“I feel stupid saying it,” Dana said, not even sweating. “I work out here. People know me.”

“They also know you’re a girl,” Skye muttered between deep breaths. “No one will think less of you.”

“You don’t actually know that,” Dana muttered.

“I’m confident. If you want to motivate us, you have to use the right language.”

Dana pointed at the punching bags in front of Lexi and Skye. “Fine. The bastard just backed the car over your latest pair of Manolos. Is that better?”

Lexi pictured a poor, broken, defenseless shoe lying in the driveway while a smug, self-righteous non-Cruz type guy drove away. She kicked hard and high, then jabbed right, left, right, making the bag swing.

Dana put her hands on her hips. “Okay. Point taken. Will fight for shoes.”

Lexi laughed. Skye scrunched up her face and made the same moves. When she was finished, she and Lexi did a high-five-as much as their boxing gloves would allow.

“Who’s the man?” Skye said, causing both Lexi and Dana to stare at her. “You know what I mean,” she added.

Dana shook her head. “The point is, you’re stronger than you realize and boxing is an excellent calorie burn.”

Lexi appreciated the info, but seriously, this was so not what they were going to do with their spare time. “You realize this is never happening again until you force us,” she said, already tugging at her gloves.

“Maybe not for you,” Dana said, “but the rest of us need less interesting ways to burn our calories. We’re not all sleeping with Cruz.”

“I’m certainly not,” Skye said with a sigh. “I’m not sleeping with anyone.” She looked at Dana. “What happened to Martin? Aren’t you still seeing him?”

“Something tells me he’s not much of a workout,” Lexi said with a grin.

Dana glared at her. “Martin is perfectly adequate in bed.”

“Ooh, words to make his heart beat faster,” Lexi teased.

“I know that’s an endorsement I’ve been waiting for,” Skye added. “Perfectly adequate in bed. They should make that into a T-shirt.”

The sisters did a high five again.

“I’m ignoring both of you,” Dana said.

Skye pulled off her right glove. “So here’s the question. Why won’t you go for someone who interests you? Someone fun and cool? Someone who’s challenging?”

“My work challenges me,” Dana told her. “I want my men uncomplicated.”

“But you get bored.”

“I do not.”

Lexi pulled off her gloves. “Dana, be serious. You’re already yawning over Martin. He’s exactly like everyone else you’ve dated. Try someone different.”

“You two better back off. I’m good with weapons.”

“I just want you to be happy,” Lexi said, wondering what secrets existed in her friend’s heart that made her want to find more guys like Martin and less guys who really turned her on. Of course they all had secrets. Wasn’t that the real motivation behind every confusing action?

“I want you to find passion,” Skye said. “The kind of passion that makes it impossible to sleep, that makes your skin tingle and your hoo-hah quiver.”

Dana glared at her. “First of all, no one under the age of eighty says hoo-hah. Second, it’s not like Ray lit you up, Skye. He was your daddy’s choice, not yours.”