Page 39 of Nitro
It was good that my car was behind me because my knees went weak. Then he flicked the top open, revealing a diamond solitaire ring. The band was simple, no extra stones. Perfect for me.
“And another permanent place in my life,” he added, his crooked smile cutting me in half. “Not that you ever had a choice since the moment you pulled your helmet off at the Shadow Tryout.”
“You’re such a caveman.” I covered my mouth with trembling fingers.
“Only for you.” He stepped in close, plucking the ring from the box. “I love you, Jana. Don’t even try to tell me you don’t feel the same.”
The words hit harder than any race win.
“I do,” I choked, my voice raw. “I love you so much.”
Relief and triumph flashed across his face before he slid the ring onto my shaking hand. Then he caught me up against his chest, his mouth crushing mine in a kiss that stole whatever breath I had left.
Our engines ticked as they cooled, metal groaning in the night, but the world felt silent compared to the steady thrum of his heart against mine. I melted into him, leather pressed to leather, his hand tangled in my hair, sealing me to him with nothing left between us.
I’d come here chasing victory. But standing on the asphalt with Torin’s ring on my finger, his patch on my back, and his baby in my belly, I finally realized I’d already won everything I could ever want.
EPILOGUE
NITRO
2 months later
The first sound I heard when I walked through the door of our house was Jana laughing. Real, unguarded, belly-deep laughter that made my chest crack wide open every damn time I heard it.
She was in the kitchen, barefoot, hair tied up, messy with wisps falling loose, freckles scattered across cheeks flushed from the stove’s heat. She wore one of my old shirts, the sleeves rolled up and the hem skimming her thighs, and she was waving her fingers at Ashlynn’s two-month-old daughter, balanced against her mother’s shoulder.
The baby let out a tiny grunt, fist curling near his face, and I froze like an idiot just watching. Ashlynn gave Jana a look only mothers can pull off—half amusement, half exhaustion—and adjusted her hold while still managing to stir something in a pan.
“Good luck in seven months,” she teased, eyes flicking to me as I leaned in the doorway. “Yours won’t come with an instruction manual either.”
Jana rolled her eyes, but her grin didn’t falter. “You make it look easy.”
“Easy?” Ashlynn snorted, bouncing her son. “Haven’t washed my hair in a week, and Mason had to search online for how to fold the stroller yesterday. But yeah, sure. Easy.”
That earned her another laugh from Jana, and fuck if I didn’t want to bottle the sound.
I stepped into the room finally, pressing a kiss to the top of Jana’s head before resting my hand on the curve of her belly—still flat, but mine all the same. “Baby’s not even here yet, and you’re already volunteering for overtime.”
She tilted her head back to look up at me, green eyes soft but sparkling. “Somebody’s gotta get practice.”
“You’ll get plenty,” I muttered, brushing my thumb over her stomach, voice dropping so only she caught it. “Kid’ll know from the start he’s got the fiercest mom on the planet.”
Her lips parted, that little crack in her armor showing again. The only one I got to see. I kissed her before she could argue, long and slow.
We were interrupted when heavy boots entered the kitchen, and Edge groaned, “Fucking hell, you two. Some of us are trying to keep food down.”
Jana laughed against my mouth and pulled away, swatting my chest lightly. “Go set the table before I burn dinner.”
I didn’t argue.
The house smelled like garlic bread and roasted chicken. Several of my brothers were here, their laughter and low hum of conversation filling the air. It wasn’t the clubhouse or the track. It was home. And it was ours.
The thought of Jana here, glowing with freckles and fire, with our future in her belly, had me feeling like the luckiest bastard alive.
Later, after the table was cleared and Ashlynn’s and Savannah’s little ones were asleep in the spare room, the guys sprawled in my living room, beers sweating on the coffee table. Kane leaned back, his arm over Savannah, smirk sharp as ever. “Hell of a thing, Nitro. Didn’t think I’d ever see you playing house.”
“Not playing house,” I corrected, arm tightening around Jana where she curled against me. “Building one.”
