Huge Working Hero (Hard Working Hero 3)
The first light on the tree pops on. “Oh, here we go,” I say.
All three of us are still, leaning against the fence with our eyes on the track. Both vehicles are rumbling. The air is foggy under the bright overhead lights. It reminds me of a horror film. That eerie fog that hovers just over the ground right before an ax murderer jumps out.
But there are no ax murderers here, just the sexiest woman in the world about to smoke some jackass on the track.
The second light on the tree turns on, and both cars pull up an inch to the line. Two yellow lights pop on, signaling that both cars are exactly lined up and even.
My stomach is spinning. I'm excited and nervous and anxious all in the same moment. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck, tracing my spine as my heart hammers.
The green light ignites, and both cars launch forward in one giant burst, their front ends lifting off the ground. Then they're gone. I can't see who's in the lead from this angle. I stand up on the tips of my toes, dipping and leaning, trying to see her make it to the end.
“Is she winning?” Millie asks.
“I'm not sure,” I say, squinting my eyes to read the timing board.
Eleven point fifteen seconds.
Her board lights up, and I read her time. And as my eyes drift to her opponent's time, my heart stops in my chest.
Eleven point nineteen seconds. . . She won.
“She won!” I yell, turning to Millie and Hardin. “I knew it! I knew she could do it!”
We all smile and jump, screaming with joy for Kelsie and her first professional win. Millie hugs Hardin, and then she hugs me. I high five Hardin, and he throws his fist in the air with excitement.
All three of us run to the off ramp where the racers drive back down. Kelsie rolls to a stop, and climbs out of her window. “I did it!” she screams, jumping into my arms and hugging me tight.
“You did it,” I repeat, hugging her back.
Kelsie drops back down to flat feet and pulls her helmet off. “I can't believe it. I can't believe I just won.”
A slow clap comes in from behind us, and Kelsie's eyes light up. I turn around to find her father standing there clapping for his daughter with a proud grin on his face.
“Congratulations,” he says.
The rest of her family walks over, her brother smiling wide and her mother, with a smaller, but unmistakably pleased smirk on her face. Kelsie gives all of them a hug, her happiness so overwhelming it saturates the air.
This is it. This is the moment.
Kelsie is talking to her family and friends. She's reenacting the feel of the steering wheel in her hands, her brother in awe of his older sister. She's glowing. And I know right here and now that I need to do this.
Dropping to one knee, I pull a small box from my pocket. Her father grins and nods his head in my direction at his daughter. She glances over at me, and tears spring up in her eyes instantly.
I reach out my hand to her, and she takes it. I pull her in closer. I've thought about this day for months. I bought the ring about four months ago but wanted to wait for the perfect moment. That moment is here.
This is her day. She's surrounded by her family and friends, she just won her first race, and now I want to make her mine forever.
“Kelsie Klein,” I say, taking her hand and pulling her fingers out straight. “I've loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you. And I'm going to love you until the day I take my last breath.”
Tears stream down her cheeks and her hand is shaking in my mine. I pluck the ring free from the box and hold it against her trembling ring finger.
“Kelsie, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she says while nodding her head up and down quickly. Her voice breaks as the tears fall effortlessly, trickling down over her smiling lips. “Yes, I'll marry you.”
As I rise up from my knee, she throws herself at me and kisses me. Her lips are soft, frantic, and so full of love I can feel it as it seeps into my body.
This woman has changed me. She's shown me what it means to feel alive. She's shown me what it means to be happy. And she's shown me what it feels like to be in love.
I'm not half a man anymore. I'm whole.
For that, I owe her everything.