Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4) (29 page)

I could almost feel Alyssa’s eyes burning into me as I pushed the car to the edge. I was trying everything I could to get the best time I could. I was desperate to make the Top 10 Shootout, if only to get the opportunity to have a practise run at the real race.

Morgan’s voice issued regularly from my headphones, letting me know my current times. They were good, but they weren’t quite good enough. At least they were competitive though. I was showing everyone who was watching that I could still do it; I
did
still have it.

There would be no more debates. I was earning my right to be on the track the only way I ever could, lap by lap, second by second.

The end of qualifying was called, and I brought the car back into pit lane.

Morgan raced over to me while I was getting out of my race gear, and I couldn’t help but grin widely at him.

“Fuck, I missed that!” I exclaimed when he was near enough to hear me.

“You looked good out there, man.” He whistled. “It made me want to be out there with you.”

“Next year, we’ll both be out there, you just watch.”

He grinned wickedly at me.

“So?” I asked.

“So, what?” He feigned innocence.

“Put me out of my misery. How’d I do?”

He winced. “Eleventh.”

“Fuck!” I felt a stab of disappointment that I hadn’t made it into the Top 10 Shootout, but then I realised I’d qualified eleventh. Out of thirty-one cars, I’d finished eleventh fastest. I was in the top half of the field without big-team backing. “Eleventh!”

“It puts us in decent standing for the race,” Morgan said soothingly, obviously not picking up on the change in my tone.

Alyssa, Mum, and Phoebe all arrived a second later. I scooped Phoebe up in my arms and wrapped my arms around Alyssa. “Eleventh!” I whooped excitedly.

“You’re silly, Daddy,” Phoebe squealed as I spun her around in my arms.

“Nuh-uh,” I said. “I’m eleventh!”

She giggled.

Mum came up to me and gave me a gentle squeeze. “I’m so proud of you.”

I blushed slightly before shrugging out of her grip. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I also didn’t want the boys to see. It was bad enough having the reputation of being pussy-whipped, I didn’t need to add mama’s boy to that as well.

We all spent the next hour celebrating the fact that we’d qualified in what was, for all intents and purposes, a very competitive position. Eventually, I had to go and see to some more of the official business before we were able to leave the track for the team dinner.

When I arrived back in the pit, I hollered out a ten-minute warning for the maxi taxis I’d ordered to take us out.

Everyone was gathered around moments later, including my pit boys who just two seconds earlier had been buried up to their necks under the bonnet of the car. I looked over and saw that the beast was all back together and closed up. It didn’t take them long to come running when food was mentioned.

We found a nice little steakhouse close to the track and set up for a good night of fun and friendship. The conversation flowed rapidly around the table, but the booze didn’t. Everyone wanted to stay fresh for the weekend.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: FAITH

SATURDAY WAS A relatively easy day. I basically stayed close to my girls other than when I was needed for another practise session or some media commitment. The autograph hounds were out in force, but I just signed what I could and hid away for a break whenever I desperately needed one.

I watched wistfully from the sidelines as the Top 10 Shootout occurred. I could feel the excitement rolling through the tracks as all of the TVs showed the current leader and how their split times compared with the other competitors out on the track. I imagined being out there next year. Would I be racing under Sinclair Racing colours? They had two drivers, could they handle a third?

Finally, the shootout was finished and the final results were in. We had our leader board ready for racing the next day. The big race. I kept thinking about the thousand kilometres that would change everything.

Could I do it?

Although I was secretly hoping for a surprise win, the realist in me knew it was unlikely. I thought about what I needed from the weekend and I realised it was simple. The only way I could exorcise my demons was to get around the track cleanly. I couldn’t crash out of this race, it was just far too important.

I spent a few moments looking over the grid. Hunter Blake’s name was listed in third position. I felt the usual glee at Sinclair Racing starting in such a strong position mixed with the grief over it being Hunter who got them there.

Between the anticipation of what was to come on Sunday and the nerves I felt over what I’d achieved so far, I was literally feeling ill.

By the time the final drivers’ briefing rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves. I listened as intently as I could to all the information they were giving out, but most of it went in one ear and out the other. I bounced my leg nervously, desperate to be out of the cloying conditions of the tiny room filled with too many bodies.

It wasn’t made any better when it ended and Hunter gave me a deathly sneer and whispered, “I’ll see you on the track, fucker. If you make it up the mountain.”

I paused, realising that maybe he hadn’t been as stupid as I had thought. I began to imagine all sorts of scenarios that involved his car smashing into mine. I couldn’t help but wonder whether there was a chance he’d sent the pictures to Danny with some other purpose in mind.

His words played over and over in my head, sending me into a dizzying spiral of negative thoughts. I couldn’t shake the worry that maybe I would end up like Morgan . . . or worse.

Hunter’s words haunted me for all of about two seconds, because Alyssa, Mum, and Phoebe were waiting right outside of the door for me. Alyssa entwined her fingers around mine and told me that I wasn’t to worry about a single thing for the rest of the night.

We had another quiet family dinner, low-key and calm. Just me and the women in my life.

After dinner, and after we’d tucked Phoebe into bed, Alyssa whispered that she had a surprise for me. I followed her out of the caravan, and she led me through the camping ground to the same spot we’d stopped at a few nights ago; only there was now a small domed tent erected on the site.

Alyssa gently pulled on my hand to move me forward, and we continued until we were almost on top of the tent. She bent down and began to undo the zip. “You looked like you wanted to do something more than
talk
when we were here the other night,” she murmured. “And, to be honest, so did I.”

I quirked my eyebrow at her and licked my lips. There was no need to ask her what she meant, because it was written clearly in her eyes. I watched as she bent down and climbed in through the open tent flap, and then almost leapt in after her. Even with the excitement of racing and spending so much one-on-one—practically uninterrupted—time with her, I was so desperate for
more
. I turned and instantly zipped the tent back up.

I’d barely finished and turned to face her when her lips were on mine. I wrapped my arms around her tightly in response. Our actions were somewhat limited by the space; the tent was so small that my head pushed into the roof even when I was on my knees.

My lips remained practically glued to Alyssa’s as we twisted and bent to remove all of our clothes. Within the tiny space, all I could hear was our breathing and the twin beating of our hearts. It was so dark in the canvas, I could barely make out shapes, and yet my hands knew her so intimately that they knew exactly where to go, where they wanted to go, and set out to explore readily.

Once I was certain every shred of our clothing had been shed, I guided Alyssa to the plush blanket on the ground, supporting her head as I kissed her deeply. My mouth only left hers to begin a new exploration of her skin. Her hands scratched my scalp as I planted soft, open-mouthed kisses against her collarbone and onto her chest.

I took one of her sweet nipples between my lips before sliding my tongue softly along the perfect bud. I gently scraped my teeth along the delicate skin of her breast before bringing her nipple into my mouth again and sucking softly to make her mew beneath me.

My hand found her other breast, and I kneaded it softly before lavishing attention on it with my mouth and tongue.

“Fuck, Alyssa, you taste so good,” I whispered against her skin.

“Kiss me,” she begged as she twisted her fingers into my hair and tugged lightly.

I slid back up her body and claimed her mouth again, supporting myself with one hand, leaving the other free to run across her beautiful breasts and smooth stomach. I ran it up and down the length of her body a few times while my tongue continued to tangle sweetly with hers.

Our breaths and heartbeats were still the only sound I could hear, but they were now faster and more urgent than they had been.

I slid my hand across her stomach once more before dropping my fingers down gently to slide against her pussy. The instant my skin touched her heat, she bucked her hips and arched her back, exposing the long column of her throat. I twisted slightly to claim her neck, sucking gently on it as I pressed my fingers against her clit.

I shifted my head down and took her nipple into my mouth again, rolling my tongue across it before sucking and nibbling on it as I pushed two fingers into her.

“Oh, my God,” she cried out softly.

I drew the two fingers out, running them up to moisten her clit before gently sliding them back into her again. I repeated the process, slowly teasing her as I continued to taste her skin. I was so fucking hard, wanting her so badly, but I needed to use this time to say a silent thank-you for everything she’d done to get me to Bathurst.

I continued my slow torture—mine and hers—licking and caressing her skin with my mouth while my fingers moved deeper inside of her, until she was practically begging me to fuck her. I shifted my body weight so that I was hovering just millimetres above her, then I brought my lips back to her and kissed her delicately.

She fought slightly to break her mouth away from mine, and in the darkness I could see something was troubling her. I sat back on my haunches, trying to ignore the erection that stood out proudly from my waist and the fact that my head smacked into the canvas of the tent and twisted it out of shape momentarily.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I just . . . well, I didn’t want anything to happen without warning you first.”

I tilted my head in confusion. “Warning me about what?”

“I know we talked about it, and were going to wait, but then the opportunity just came up a few days before we left, and I figured that maybe it was time to just do it, you know?”

I chuckled. “No, I can honestly say that I don’t know.”

I saw a flash of the white of her teeth as they captured the silky, slightly darker skin of her lips. “Mum forwarded a letter from my doctor last week. It was a follow-up to remind me that it was time for my annual Mirena check-up and, well, I figured why not get it removed while I was there.” She was whispering by the time she’d finished her sentence.

“Really?” I could barely believe what she was saying. Was she saying . . .?

“Yeah, but if you’ve changed your mind, I understand. We don’t have to . . . We’ll just have to use something else for protection.”

I smiled brightly, even though I knew she wouldn’t be able to see me. I leaned forward over her again, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. I lined myself up with her entrance before kissing her softly.

“I want to,” I murmured against her mouth.

I pushed against her, moaning as I slid deeply into her. With her right below me, I could make out her features better, and I met her eyes. They communicated her feelings to me so clearly: fear, joy, and love. I tried to show the strength I felt in us.

Knowing that we were utterly unprotected and leaving an element of our lives completely up to fate was scary, but as I moved inside of her, it felt so right. I knew the chances made it unlikely that we would conceive that night, but it was a possibility. If we were that lucky, who knew . . . maybe the magic of Bathurst would run in the veins of our child.

ALYSSA AND I had eventually dressed and snuck back into our caravan very late. I probably should have tried to be in bed earlier, but I figured it probably didn’t matter, because I would most likely have just lain awake, unable to sleep anyway. Hunter’s words might not have been haunting me, but the upcoming race was.

We woke begrudgingly when the alarm went off well before dawn and, after a light breakfast, headed back to the track for the final preparations.

We messed around in the pits, changing all of the parts for a fresh run, until it was time for Dane and me to go to the final drivers’ meeting. Every second that passed, the nerves in my stomach built. Hunter was remarkably silent throughout the meeting, but bailed me up afterwards, just as we were passing the Sinclair Racing pits.

“I see you’re still up to your old tricks after all,
squirt
.”

I tried to ignore him and continued walking.

“I mean the late-night, pre-race booty call thing didn’t work that well for you last year; you still crashed out after all.”

I gritted my teeth but kept moving.

“The chick last night was a bit of a fucking screamer though, wasn’t she? I swear I heard her from my hotel.”

I tried to put his words out of my mind—I knew he was just trying to psych me out—but it was hard when he was talking about Alyssa so disrespectfully. He definitely knew that Alyssa was my weak spot.

“If you’ve changed your mind, I understand.” He had put on a horrid, nasally, whiny voice which sounded absolutely nothing like my Alyssa, but I froze as I recognised her words. “What the hell is a Mirena anyway?”

I turned, ready to swing, but froze when I saw Danny standing a short distance away behind Hunter. I decided to try to shrug it off. I needed to stop letting the fucker get under my skin. I realised that there was only one way he could have possibly heard
that
part of the conversation.

“At least I have a red-hot woman I can have booty calls with rather than having to skulk around in the darkness, living vicariously through others.”

He gaped for a moment, and I took the opportunity to stab at him again.

“It must be such a sad, lonely existence you live,” I jibed, trying to get him to bite while Danny was watching and listening. As I’d anticipated, he swung at me, and I ducked easily out of the way.

Danny took that moment to announce his presence by clearing his throat, and Hunter whirled around quickly.

I stood triumphant. Danny had finally borne witness to one of Hunter’s calculated attacks on me. I realised it wouldn’t change much in the short term; whatever had bound Danny’s hands about the photos wouldn’t change for some time—maybe the end of the season, maybe the duration of the contract.

“Hunter, don’t you have a race to prepare for?” he asked, clearly intending it as a dismissal.

Hunter looked like he was going to argue, but wisely, and disappointingly, kept his mouth shut.

“Declan,” Danny said, reaching out his hand to shake mine. “Good luck out there today.”

I shook his hand, grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re going to need it,” Hunter muttered under his breath.

Danny had clearly heard and quickly asked, “You don’t think Declan can do it?”

Hunter scoffed. “He’s a privateer. They never win.”

“Yes, he’s a privateer, indeed. In a well-sponsored, well-maintained Sinclair Racing car. I think he has as much chance as anyone else.”

I couldn’t help the way my spine straightened a little as I listened to the faith Danny was showing in me.

“So long as he doesn’t crash the car.” Hunter snickered. His eyes flicked to me and somehow I just knew he was referring to Morgan’s crash rather than my own. His words from the previous day came back to me, and I grew worried again about whether he had some sort of master plan.

“Why don’t we make it interesting?” I said, surprising even myself when I spoke.

“What are you suggesting, Declan? Some sort of wager?” Danny asked with his eyebrow raised. “You know putting money on the outcome is illegal.”