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“I’d like that,” I smile into his lips looking forward to another afternoon with him along the coastline. Pods of minke and orca whales are frequent this time of year, coming in closer to feed. More than that, it’s just the comfortable quiet time with Lennox, letting everything slip away and letting him guide me wherever we’re going, knowing he always has me.
I feel his hand slip into my pocket and he pulls my phone out, turns on the voice recorder, and smirks. I know he’s about to make another joke about me throwing my phone into the fire the last time we tried this.
“Yes, haha, Mr. Gibbes,” I roll my eyes and pull my legs up underneath me on the bench so I can sit facing him.
“Mm, Mr. Gibbes now, is it?” He smirks at me in that smoldering way that melts my insides.
“Yes. I’m a professional. Ahem,” I clear my throat for emphasis. “Now, then. Mr. Gibbes, tell me, how does winning your second world championship compare to your first three years ago?
He leans back on the bench and considers his answer. If he treats this like he does most media now, I expect a fair answer, sometimes brutally honest, often peppered with sarcasm. “There’s no comparison at all,” he answers, his voice deep and strong.
“How so?”I reply in my best journalist voice.
When Lennox was offered contracts to race the season following the demise of Celeritas, there was no way I was letting him give up his dream. He signed with Anora Sports and drives alongside Alessi now, who has become another dear friend. Alessi and Jack still sneak around, except around us and a few precious others they trust. Maybe the motorsports world will get with the times one of these years.
But Lennox is happy, so I’m happy. I took a long time to think about what I wanted to do. Spent the rest of the season Lennox had off getting to know him more, getting to know my new home, my new family. Time passed falling in love with him even more and with this beautiful new country he’s given me. And when his new season began I took the job offer with Cooper Media as one of the only female F1 journalists in the paddock.
Now I get to tell the stories of the athletes that I always wanted to and travel the world alongside the love of my life who clinched this year’s championship by a landslide with four races remaining. I couldn’t be more proud of him and I tell him daily. I’d be proud if he’d come in last, though. I’m proud of the man he’s become. It was always inside of him but he’s more liberal with sharing now.
Usually.
There’s still a lot that is only shared with me, like his family—our family—who he remains fiercely protective of. I don’t blame him, or mind. Some things are just for us.
“The second championship will always mean more,” he continues answering my question. “This one was about redemption.”
“Redeeming yourself on the track after three difficult seasons. That must have been particularly meaningful after the chaos of last season, the chaos of the Celeritas scandal.”
“Nah, fuck them,” he brushes the concept away and I bite my cheek to not smile. I said Lennox was happy, not a different person. I wouldn’t want it any other way, even if I have to be very careful what I ask him during live coverage because I know he will give me his exact truth.
“I redeemed my records on track, yeah, but it was off-track that meant the most,” he explains. His broad shoulders are back, exuding confidence and conviction with his body language.
“Off track?” The journalist in me asks him while the lover in me swoons.
“Aye, I almost lost myself. Thank god I had this nanny walk into my life. Hottest chick you’ve ever seen in your life. Sassy as hell, razor sharp. Whipped my ass into shape.” He winks at me.
“Lennox,” I laugh and extend a leg to kick him on the bench. “I cannot print that!”
He grabs my leg and drags me back close to him, his lips moving to my neck to nip and kiss. “I should get perks for answering interview questions when the reporter is my girlfriend.”
“Then you should have negotiated better,” I squirm as he tickles me and my palm floats over his bumpy stomach muscles.
“Aye, I agree,” he gives me a sweet kiss on the lips and stands. He takes a few steps over to the bar area of the fire pit. I assume he’s grabbing a drink and I look forward to tasting the scotch on his lips, but he said he wanted to take the motorcycle out, so that’s not it.
“What’s this?” I look up at him when he returns, holding his palm open before me with a handful of brown, shiny chestnuts.
“They’re nuts, Mallory.”
“I see that, smart ass. Why do you have nuts in your hand—ugh, don’t answer that,” I groan.
“The tradition,” he reminds me. “We won’t be home on Halloween, we have to do it now.” He takes my hand and helps me stand.
“Is my big, strong man feeling insecure all of a sudden? He needs to throw nuts into the fire to know if we’re going to live happily ever after?” I tease him and run my palms up against his chest.
“Nope,” he grins and beams down at me. “Toss ‘em in.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I tell him and turn to toss the chestnuts into the fire. They fall through the sticks and charred wood and I lose sight of them. “They’re not doing anything.”
Lennox doesn’t respond and I turn to look at him. “Oh,” I gasp and my hand goes over my mouth. My heart pounds and the sounds of the fire and the whistling winds cease to exist.
