Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
I hit the corner of my final lap hard, tires shrieking, the acrid scent of burning rubber sharp in my nose. Every ounce of my focus narrowed to the line. Gas, brake, shift—muscle memory honed by years of proving myself on asphalt that never cared if I won.
The checkered flag came into view, waving in the floodlights. My heart surged up into my throat. I pushed harder, my car screaming beneath me, and then the finish line blurred under my tires. The grandstands erupted in a tidal wave of sound and flashing lights.
I’d done it.
I’d actually won my first pro race.
For a second, I sat there, helmet heavy and chest heaving. My eyes blurred as I pulled the car into victory lane. Then I cut the engine, and the sudden silence was deafening. My hands shook when I unclipped the harness.
The second I ripped off my helmet and climbed out, the roar of the crowd and the flashing cameras blurred into nothing. Because I saw Torin. He stood directly behind the barrier, towering and unshakable, with his black leather cut stretched across his broad shoulders. His dark eyes locked on me, pride blazing in them so fierce it nearly knocked me off my feet. But that wasn’t what undid me.
It was the sight of our daughter nestled snug against his chest in a tiny black baby carrier, sound asleep despite the chaos. A fistful of his cut was clutched in her little hand, as if she already knew exactly who kept her safe.
And Torin’s crooked grin lit me up more than the victory.
I barely remembered shoving through the crowd to reach him, the adrenaline still pounding in my ears. His arm hooked me in, pulling me tight against his chest, our daughter safe between us as he kissed me like the cameras weren’t pointed straight at us.
“Congrats, sweetheart,” he rasped against my lips.
Laughter and tears tangled in my throat as my fingers curled around his biceps. “I can’t believe it. I actually—”
“You didn’t just win.” His thumb brushed away the tears sliding down my cheek. “You owned that track like you were born to do it.”
The pride in his voice meant more to me than my own.
“Hell of a finish.”
I twisted toward it and spotted Kane standing behind me with his arms folded over his chest. “Thanks.”
“You showed the world why I held your spot on Redline Precision.” He shook his head with a rueful laugh. “Not sure why anyone doubted me in the first place. Fucking idiots.”
“Language,” Savannah chided as she slipped up beside him, grinning. She had their son, Kylan, in her arms, the toddler squirming to get down. “I don’t need my kid picking up bad words before he turns two.”
I laughed, pressing a shaky hand over my face. “Sorry. It’s just—I can’t—”
Savannah bumped my shoulder affectionately as Kylan wriggled free, little sneakers hitting the pavement. He immediately toddled over to Torin, making a beeline for my daughter.
“Baby,” Kylan declared proudly, reaching stubby fingers toward Nella’s foot.
Torin huffed a laugh, shifting just enough so Kylan could pat her gently. “That’s right, kid. She’s family.”
The simple statement made my throat burn all over again.
The reporters shouted questions. Cameras flashed. Engines ticked as they cooled. But none of it mattered.
Not with the man at my side, our baby safe against his chest, Kane’s blessing sealing my place on the team, and our Redline Kings family forming around us.
When I came to Crossbend, I thought the checkered flag was the ultimate dream. But as Torin kissed me again, I knew what we had was the real finish line. And the best part was, it was only the beginning.
Nitro was correct about Edge jinxing himself because he’s the next Redline King to fall hard & fast for his woman!
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