Within Striking Distance by Ingrid Weaver Read Free Book Online

build elaborate scenarios in my mind about how they would find me and welcome me back. Then, after my mother died, I felt guilty for wanting to find another mother, as if she hadn’t been enough for me. But at the same time, I wanted someone else to belong to more than ever.” She laughed self-consciously. “Jake, I don’t blame you for thinking I might be stalking the Grossos. All of this sounds a little neurotic, even to me.”
    This time, when he reached out, he bypassed his glass and touched her hand. “It’s not neurotic, Becky, it’s natural. I understand why you’d want to be Gina. I just don’t want you to get hurt if it turns out you’re not.”
    The contact was brief, only a light graze of his fingertips against the back of her knuckles before he drew back. It left her skin tingling.
    Becky returned her gaze to his face. This was like the connection she’d felt when they’d first met, only stronger. Had he felt it, too? Warmth he couldn’t quite hide swirled in his eyes, but the rest of his expression gave nothing away. “I appreciate your concern, Jake,” she said. “But I need to know the truth, whatever it turns out to be.”
     
    “Y OU AND YOUR ‘friend of a friend’ must have had a nice lunch?” Shirley asked, raising her voice over the din of the crowd and the cars as Becky reached her seat.
    Becky grabbed her hat to hold it down against a gust of wind. Nice? That was true, it had been surprisingly enjoyable, even though she’d had the feeling that Jake had been subtly pumping her for information.
    “Yes, the time flew,” Becky replied, realizing that Shirley was still regarding her inquiringly. She waved a greeting at Bud. He smiled but didn’t reply—judging by the earphones jammed into his ears, he was more interested in listening to the voices coming over his scanner. “Which team is he listening in on, Shirley?”
    “He started out with FastMax and switched to Sanford.” Shirley reached into the cooler beneath her feet to pull out a canned soft drink. She offered it to Becky, who shook her head, before she popped the top. “He’s still at loose ends now that Dean Grosso retired.”
    “Isn’t he rooting for Kent? Or what about Robert Castillo? Mallory’s dating him.”
    “You know Bud. He doesn’t switch his loyalty easily.” She gestured toward the tight pack that was entering the backstretch. “Trey Sanford just passed Will Branch. Do you think this could be his year?”
    Becky picked out Trey’s No. 483 car as it swung around Turn Three. She had dated Trey on and off this past winter. He was a nice man, but neither of them had felt anything special and they had parted as friends by the spring. Shewondered now whether she’d dated him because of her inherited affinity for racing…
    Jake’s caution about assuming she was Gina flickered through her mind, but she blocked it out as the cars entered Turn Four. Trey took it too high, allowing Kent Grosso to nose in front of him. Becky cheered for them both as they swept past.
    That was another thing she loved about this sport. It demanded all of her attention. For the next few hours, she didn’t have to think about anything else.
     
    T HE TELEVISED SPECTACLE was almost as absorbing as being there. Cars rippled across the sixty-four-inch screen in a riot of crayon colors and sponsors’ logos. Engines roared, tires screeched and the race commentator’s voice boomed from the fourteen speakers that were fastened to the walls. In the center of the floor, three tiers of overstuffed armchairs were arranged in staggered rows so that each provided an unobstructed view. The home theater could accommodate two dozen guests in luxurious comfort, but only one of the chairs was occupied.
    Cynthia walked to the middle row and sat beside her father. Though he didn’t attend races anymore, he seldom missed the broadcasts. Lit only by the screen, Gerald’s face looked as craggy as the acoustic foam that covered the walls. He’d