Chapter Twenty Seven

“Mi tesoro, you are an angel,” Javier said, wincing slightly as he shifted on the gurney upon which he sat. “Thank you for coming.”

Dixie glanced around and noted they were in the trackside First Aid center, which seemed equipped only with a few cots, blankets, a rudimentary medicine cabinet, some bottled water and a blood pressure cuff. Dixie sighed affectedly, then crossed her arms and fixed Javier with a stern stare. “We need to establish a few ground rules,” she said after a long moment.

Javier nodded for her to continue, looking abashed.

“You’ll do what I say,” she said, and he nodded his agreement. “You’ll behave yourself,” she added, and he nodded again. “And you won’t call me your ‘mi tesoro’ ever again. If you can’t be original, don’t use it, and I know you use it on every gullible woman who crosses your path, including me.”

Javier nodded again, looking further abashed, and Dixie strode over to the gurney.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital, Javi?” Dixie asked, her voice softer now. “That looked really bad on the track.”

Javier sighed and shifted his weight while she gently tugged down his leathers and felt around with her fingers on his shoulder, making his shy away when she reached a tender spot. “If I go to hospital, it’s a story. Then people wonder if I can’t race, or I shouldn’t race. If I just go to First Aid, is a, what is it? A Band Aid, and I’m back to racing fast tomorrow.”

“And chasing women,” Dixie said evenly, still examining his muscles. “Why don’t you see one of the Clinica Mobile doctors? What about Dr. Costa?”

Clinica Mobile was the traveling medical facility affiliated with Dorna, the MotoGP planning authority, and Dr. Claudio Costa was one of the most respected men in the field of speed-related traumas. Everyone had heard of Dr. Costa, and nearly everyone on the circuit had seen him at one time or another.

Javier shook his head. “Too much press. I’m so close, Dixie. I’m in the championship running so close. I can’t afford to be hurt now. I can’t.”

“Well, you’re hurt, all right,” Dixie said with a sigh. “It feels like some stressed ligaments, at least, possibly torn ones. We can try and do some exercises…”

“Yes, fine,” Javier interrupted.

“But it’s going to hurt,” Dixie concluded. “And I can’t say I will find that entirely unpleasant.”

Javier gave her a long, appraising look. “Yes, I deserve that.”

“Oh, and so much more,” Dixie said pointedly.

“I’m a pig,” Javier said by way of explanation.

“And a dog,” Dixie added. “A horny, junkyard mutt.”

“But with a nicer accent and faster wheels,” Javier said, trying for a laugh and succeeding as Dixie snorted out a laugh.

“It’s a good thing you’re so charming,” Dixie said, tugging his shirt back straight again and stepping away from the gurney. “Because otherwise even the women you completely dicked over would hate you. And probably form a club. Then put it on Facebook. I imagine it would have hundreds… no, probably thousands of members.”

Javier winced again as he slid off the gurney and stood beside her, putting the hand of his good arm on her shoulder. “Mi… Dixie. I am truly sorry for what I did to you. I really did – no, I really do – like you, but… I had needs, and you were far away, and she was there, and I am weak. I have no excuse, I have only an apology.”

Dixie eyed him, saying nothing.

“I apologize. I am sorry for hurting you. And I am sorry not to see you anymore, for I miss your company. But if you will help me with this injury, I will be the perfect patient. You will see.”

“You better be,” Dixie warned. “Or I walk. I’ve got… I’ve got things at stake now and I’m risking those things being here with you, helping you.”

“What things?” Javier asked, interested. “Please, let us leave First Aid. Walk with me back into the garages so I can show the world I am perfectly fine,” Javier requested, opening the door with his good arm and ushering her through.

Dixie fell into step beside him, and despite the throngs of people watching his every move, she knew she had his undivided attention. “What things?” he repeated, a break in the crowd forming around them, giving them room to begin making their way to the garages.

“I…” Dixie began, not sure what to say, or even that she wanted to reveal it. She and Nicky were… new. She didn’t want to jinx it, or have the world know about it when he, or they, weren’t ready for the scrutiny.

Okay, she wasn’t ready for the scrutiny, she amended silently.

“You…” Javier prompted, and then his eyes lit up. “You have a new lover,” he said, a note of triumph in his voice.

“Can we not say lover?” Dixie said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“I am Spanish,” Javier said. “We take lovers. And you should too. Good for you, Dixie,” he said, sounding genuine. “Who is it?”

Dixie ducked her head, not wanting to reveal her beau.

“It’s Nicky, no?” Javier said, and Dixie’s head shot up, disbelief on her face. “What? I am right, yes?”

“Yes, you are right,” Dixie whispered, amazed. “How did you know?”

“As I suspected,” Javier said with a note of triumph. “I think you liked me well enough when we were together, but him… him, you felt specially about. Even I could tell it, and I am a stupid, ignorant—“

“Horny, unfaithful…” Dixie supplied.

“Horny, unfaithful man. Is it Nicky?” Javier asked, the two of them nearly to the garages now.

Dixie nodded mutely, and Javier flashed her a bright smile. “I am happy for you, Dixie. And jealous. Surely he has gotten further than I did, no? You were holding yourself back for him?”

Dixie cocked her head, wondering if a part of that were true. At the time, she told herself the reason she and Javier hadn’t slept together was because of her leg, of her scars, but now, she wondered if deep down it wasn’t her own emotional hang up on Mr. Gamble. “For an idiot, you are actually quite perceptive.”

Javier laughed, his white teeth flashing against his caramel skin. “Thank you for the escort, Miss Colson. Please… can we meet later this evening so I can know the best therapy for my shoulder? It is indeed painful.”

Dixie nodded. “I’ll stop by after dinner.”

“I’ll be sure not to have a paramour there until after your visit,” Javier said, and Dixie heard the teasing in his voice.

“A pig and a dog. And also, an idiot,” she said, but she was smiling as she strode away towards Nicky’s motor coach.

**

“Now?” Nicky asked, his voice rising slightly at the question. “But…”

“I told him I would stop by after dinner. He probably needs some meds, and some heat therapy, and probably some suggestions for overnight or his shoulder is going to get really stiff. Honestly, I wish he would see a real doctor but all of you guys are so damn stubborn…”

“Yeah, and I’m being stubborn about this,” Nicky said, his tone serious. “I know it’s condescending and chauvinistic, but I don’t want you go to Javier’s hauler alone after dark. I jut don’t.”

“You don’t trust me is what you’re saying,” Dixie shot back.

“No, I don’t trust him,” Nicky fired back, his tone angrier.  “And I don’t think you need that kind of… emotional entanglement at this point.”

“Are you laboring under the false belief that I’m still hung up on Javier De Costa?” Dixie asked, her voice full of disbelief.

“Are you?” he asked quietly.

“No, I was hung up on you when I was with him, but now I’m starting to question the wisdom of that decision…” she said, turning away to stalk out of the coach.

Before she could take even two steps, Nicky’s long strides crossed the coach and he tugged her arm, spinning her to face him. “Wait, Dixie, wait...” he said, his voice apologetic. “I’m sorry, I’m just… I’m just insecure.”

Dixie laid her palm against his cheek, cupping it slightly. “I know, and I’m telling you, you don’t need to be. I’m right here. I’m not her, and I’m not leaving, I swear.”

He wondered which ‘her’ she meant, but let is go.

I don’t like it,” Nicky said again, looking down at her, his eyes swirling with emotion.

“And I’m sure that for the rest of our lives, I’m going to do many, many things that you don’t like. You just have to be the one to decide if you’re willing to live with that,” Dixie said softly.

Nicky sighed. “Is he badly hurt?”

“You know I’m not going to give you details, but let’s say bad enough,” Dixie replied.

“Is he going to race tomorrow?”

“Hard to tell right now,” Dixie said. “But right now, he’s being damn stubborn. I can almost guarantee he’ll be racing tomorrow, even though he shouldn’t, just out of sheer stubbornness and determination.  I just hope he doesn’t need surgery.”

“Is that a possibility?” Nicky asked.

Dixie shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I still don’t like this,” Nicky said, his voice quiet now.

“I still don’t care – I would do it for anyone, and you know it,” Dixie said in reply.

“Well, then go fix the fucker so we can have a fair fight to the finish,” Nicky said, resignation in his voice.

“You’re a good man, Nicky Gamble, whether you want to believe it or not,” Dixie said, going up on tiptoe to press her lips against his cheek.

“Hurry back,” Nicky whispered.

“Wait up for me?”

“Damn straight,” Nicky said a gleam in his eye.

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