Makenna and Mila come racing through the garage and join us. “Holy shit,” Makenna screams. “It was on every big screen on the circuit!”
“Oh my god,” I laugh.
Edmund taps my shoulder and points to the television monitor above the pit wall, “Last lap, bring your boy home.”
I jump back on my stool. I’ve missed how Cole got into first place, but he’s there.
“Two seconds to the car behind, Cole. It’s yours for the taking.”
“Get your ass to parc ferme, this is for you.”
Edmund waves his hands at me with a proud smile, “Go, go!”
I give him a big kiss on the cheek, and I race my as fast as my legs will run down the paddock toward parc ferme where the winning cars will be pulling in any second.
The camera crews are chasing me, the other garages are shouting words of congratulations and putting their hands out for high-fives as I run past.
“Permission for celebratory donuts?” Cole asks. I didn’t even realize I left my headset on, and I can still hear him, though I can’t respond.
“Permission granted,” Edmund answers.
I gaze up at a giant outdoor television monitor, and Cole’s car is spinning around and around, blue smoke rising up the sides of his car. The engineer inside me can’t even cringe watching what he’s doing to those tires and his engine life right now.
I’m too happy to care.
Then he takes off like a rocket toward the pit lane and is pulling up to his parking spot before me.
I try to run to him, but FIA personnel holds me back because there are still moving cars, and, technically, no one is allowed to be in that area. But I’m right here, twenty feet away, as Cole climbs out of the car and looks around for me.
“Cole,” I scream and wave while the FIA guy keeps one hand on my arm.
Cole’s head turns, and he lifts one hand up and motions a finger for me to come to him.
“Oh hell with it, go,” the FIA man tells me and gives me a little push on my back.
Cole lifts his helmet visor up a split second before I launch myself at him, wrapping my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck. His strong arms hold me tight while I take his helmet in my hands and try like hell to kiss him through it.
“I love you so much,” I keep telling him and trying to kiss him, though the only thing I can connect my lips to is his nose.
He’s laughing, and the corners of those gorgeous blue eyes are all crinkled up like he’s sporting the biggest grin ever under his gear.
“Get this damn helmet off,” I start pulling at his chin strap while the crowd grows around us. I’m oblivious to it, though. I just need my lips on his.
Finally, I loosen the chin strap, and Cole flips his helmet and balaclava over his head, both fall to the ground, and our mouths smash together.
One hand under my ass and one in my hair, he ravishes me hard as I squeeze my legs around him tighter, kiss him like my life depends on it—because it does—and tears start streaming down my face again.
Happy tears.
Incredible, beautiful, happy tears that wash away all the years of the ones that came before.
“God damn I love you,” he smiles around my lips as my fingers run through his hair.
“Boy, I kind of hate to break this up,” the official podium interviewer steps up to us with a microphone. “Can we cut in, offer congratulations, and get a comment?”
“Piss off,” Cole answers, never making eye contact with him and continuing to kiss me.
The crowd roars in laughter.