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‘Bring her home!’ Matteo shouted and, yes, now even he was talking about the car as if it were a person.
She won!
It was delicious; it was chaos.
As Hunter tried to right the car, Evan screamed past and the Carter team took second place.
There was music and champagne and the cup held high and it was all just a gorgeous blur until it was time for the press conference.
Abby was trying to locate Pedro and found him talking with one of the organisers and so Hunter and Evan had already taken their places as the victor walked in to applause.
Abby stood to the side and Matteo, in the middle of the room, looked at her unreadable expression and wondered what was going on in her mind as the questions commenced.
‘Congratulations to Pedro,’ Hunter said. ‘He’s an amazing talent. Without him...’
Hunter looked directly at Abby and tried to tell her she was nothing, that were it not for their driver...
And Matteo watched as...no, she didn’t struggle to breathe, and neither did she mouth an obscenity, or do any one of the things that she would be more than entitled to do.
There was more in her armoury than that.
Abby smiled.
For one reason only—she was happy.
And if looks could kill, then a well-timed smile could maim, because after the press conference, to Matteo’s relief, Hunter’s jet took off a lot faster than the Lachance car and finally there was this little moment when it was just Matteo and her.
‘You beat him,’ Matteo said.
‘No.’ Abby shook her head. ‘We won.’
She wanted to better explain the change in her, the changes to her heart that he had helped make—to say that, even if there was no future for them, she would treasure the past for ever, but there wasn’t time to do that now.
‘Hey, Matteo...’ Pedro shouted over. ‘How about it?’
‘How about what?’
‘I just got permission, before they take the barriers down. Do you want that ride now?’
‘Matteo has to head off,’ Abby said, covering for him, as she knew that the very thought of a ride in a racing car made him feel ill, but then, as always, Matteo surprised her.
‘I’d love to, Pedro.’
Matteo suited up and the face that disappeared into the helmet was grey but this was something he wanted—no, needed—to do.
Abby watched as he came out of the shed and her eyes drifted over his leather-clad body just as his had over hers that first day.
‘Is it wrong to say just how much I fancy you now?’ Abby asked.
‘You’re not doing it for me, Abby,’ Matteo said and blew out a breath.
‘You don’t have to do this.’
‘Oh, but I think that I do.’
He climbed in and took his seat and pulled down the harness and then Pedro did something—he came over and carefully checked Matteo’s helmet and harness before getting in himself.
And therein was the difference.
