“Didn’t your mother run interference for you?”
“She tried, but once Mitchell Preston makes a decision, no one can change his mind. There wasn’t much she could do. The family money is all his. But I had the scholarship to Oklahoma, so I didn’t need his money. I worked my ass off at school, worked part-time to cover whatever the scholarship didn’t. I managed just fine. Even got an offer from a major league team.”
He glanced over at her. She was frowning.
“But you didn’t pursue baseball.”
“Yeah, I know. It was enough to know I could have succeeded. I liked playing ball, but my love was always in racing. After I graduated college I pursued it professionally, made it my full-time career.”
“You’ve done very well for yourself. You should be proud. And all without Preston money.”
Hearing the words from Evelyn sank deep into his chest. “Thanks. I got lucky and raced with someone who showed me the ropes and allowed me to hone my instincts.
He gave me a car and let me show what I could do. After I won a championship, the money from sponsors started rolling in, enough to sustain me until I turned twenty-five. That’s when I received the inheritance my grandfather left for me, something my father couldn’t control.
“I took that money and started Preston Racing, went out on my own and built a successful race team, won another championship.”
When she didn’t say anything, he shifted his gaze to hers. “What?”
Her lips curved. “There’s such a spark when you talk about racing. I can’t imagine you ever having that kind of fire in you in law or politics.”
He let out a laugh. “I’d have hated it. I’d have been miserable.”
“Not many people get to do what they love.”
He took the exit that would lead to the main road and the college. When he stopped at the light, he turned to her. “You are.”
“That’s true. I guess both of us are very lucky.”
“I guess we are. And I have Bill Briscoe to thank for that. He kept me focused, made me pull my head out of my ass. I arrived with a huge chip on my shoulder and a lot to prove. He knocked that off and told me to stop thinking about my dad, stop being mad at him and start focusing on myself.”
He turned left at the light and made his way down the road. “He helped shape who I am today. I owe him a lot. I just hope he’s okay.”
Evelyn leaned over and squeezed his leg. “Me, too.”
Bill and Ginger’s house was on campus, just down the street from the dorms. Gray parked in front and got out.
“Drew and Trevor aren’t here yet, but there’s a car I don’t recognize in the driveway. It might be Haven,” he said as he held the door for Evelyn.
“Haven being their daughter?”
“Yeah. She was around a lot when we were in school. Even attended the college.
She’s the same age as Carolina. She tutored Trevor for a while.” Gray smiled. “God, he hated that.”
The house looked the same, though it could have used a new coat of paint. The white trim was flaked in spots, and a few of the porch steps looked like they could use some reinforcing—or maybe replacing. Otherwise, the one-story ranch-style house still had hanging geraniums, the same two white rocking chairs on the porch, and the front door was open as always.
Gray knocked on the screen door. “Anyone home?”
“Someone’s always home,” Ginger Briscoe said. “Come on in.”
Gray shook his head and turned to Evelyn. “Ginger and Bill don’t believe in strangers. You knock, you’re always welcome to come in.”
Evelyn looked a little wide eyed with disbelief over that one. So had Gray, the first time Bill had told him that, but that’s the kind of people they were.
He held the door open for Evelyn and they stepped in. Something was cooking.
Smelled like chicken.
Ginger came down the long hallway, her face beaming in a wide smile as she spotted him.
“Grayson Preston. I can’t believe you’re here.” She opened her arms and he picked her up in a hug.
“Miss Ginger. It’s been too long.”
She squeezed him, patted him on the back, and when he set her down, her smile was still as wide as the entire state.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out somewhere breaking speed limits?”
He laughed. “I was at the ranch for the Fourth, so thought I’d drop by. Miss Ginger, this is my friend Evelyn Hill. Evelyn, this is Ginger Briscoe, best cook in all of Oklahoma and the most gorgeous woman in the state.”
“Oh, you’re still a sweet talker, I see.” Ginger turned to Evelyn and, though Evelyn had started to extend her hand, she folded her into a hug. “If you’re with Gray, you get a hug from me. Nice to meet you, Evelyn.”
Evelyn blinked and looked surprised. “Nice to meet you too, Ginger . . . Mrs. . . .
Miss Ginger.”
“There you go. Now you two must be thirsty. How about some sweet tea? I just made a fresh batch.”