He still couldn’t believe she hadn’t jumped from his bed and demanded that he take her home. That she didn’t hate him.
“Is that why you never let me take your clothes off? Why you wore a T-shirt when you were swimming with Noah?”
“Almost no one has seen my tattoo. I’m careful to make sure they don’t.”
She pressed a kiss to the center of his chest, right where it felt as if his heart was beating only for her. “So that makes me special, doesn’t it?”
Hauling her tight against him, he wanted her to feel the power she had over him. To know that she’d made his life good in a way it never had been before. In a way he’d never thought it could be. “So special you make me ache when I look at you.”
Her gaze roamed his face. She followed the look with her fingers. “You changed your life, changed who you are. If you ask me, you should let everyone see it.”
It stunned him that, like Susan, she saw his mark as a symbol of triumph rather than as the evidence of his worthlessness. She wanted him to recognize it, too. Just as Susan had said, Harper was good for him.
In that moment, as he held her tight in his arms and she held him right back, Will vowed to do everything in his power to prove he could be good for her as well. He wouldn’t let her down.
No matter what.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“I still can’t believe you rented the entire Laguna Seca Raceway,” Harper said a week later. “How is that even possible?”
The man could do anything. He wasn’t just amazing—he was completely overwhelming.
Will hadn’t sprung this trip to the racetrack on her, but checked with her first whether it was okay before mentioning it to her brother. “I swear,” he’d said, “we’ll keep it to one hundred twenty, tops. Slower in the turns.”
One hundred twenty. He’d said it as if she should be reassured by that number. She wasn’t, of course, since one-twenty was way too fast. But he had promised to keep her brother safe, no matter what. And despite the blitz of fear at the thought of her brother going that fast in a car, she realized she trusted Will. Trusted him with Jeremy in a way she’d never trusted anyone else.
Will’s mechanic, Leland, had trailered the Cobra down to the Monterey Peninsula. Its paint job gleamed in the summer sun as it sat on the track. They’d both taken Friday off work for this, but the raceway wasn’t empty. There were people working, mechanics along pit row, golf carts whizzing by.
Jeremy and Will had helped Leland roll the Cobra out of the trailer. Harper had been expecting a gruff old guy with grease under his nails, but Leland was younger than Will, and reminded her of Elvis in some of his early racing movies.
In the pits, Will had introduced them around, never letting go of her hand, the same way he’d kept her close when he’d introduced her during intermission that night at the theater. She’d been half expecting pictures of her and Will in the society blogs after that night, but there’d been nothing. Most likely because she hadn’t even been worth the question, Who’s the mystery woman with Will Franconi?
Will, with his constant attention, erased any slight from the thought. Who cared about the society pages when he gazed at her with such heat, desire, and sweet emotion in his eyes?
Leland, Will, and Jeremy were leaning over the open hood of the car out on the track, a small crowd of onlookers two steps behind observing the precheck procedure as if they were preparing for a flight around the world.
“What do you think, Jeremy?” Will pointed at something Harper had no clue about. “Should we change the timing?”
“That sounds good, Will,” her brother agreed, his concentration intense. It was serious stuff when Will asked his opinion—and it always made Harper smile. And fall just a little bit more for her deliciously sweet billionaire.
“Yep,” Leland added. “Changing the timing will give you a little more torque and squeeze out a little more speed.”
Harper had no idea what any of that meant. She wasn’t entirely sure that Jeremy did either, but he nodded gravely. She felt another flutter of emotion in her stomach. Will was so good to Jeremy, making him feel a part of things, as if he were a man instead of a kid.
Leland was pointing into the engine. “But you’ll have to watch out on the turns or you might lose the back end.”
A bald man gave Will a wrench as though he were a nurse handing the surgeon a scalpel. Every visible inch of skin except his face was armored with tattoos. His name was Zeke or Duke or something with a hard sound to it. There’d been too many names for her to catch. Everyone watched in silence, as if they were all holding their breath, Harper included.
She didn’t want the extra torque if it spelled danger. Before she’d worried only about Jeremy. Now her heart also went into a frenzy worrying about Will and his need for speed.