Page 36 of Driving Wild

“Cowboy, I had that under control; you didn’t have to swoop in and be my knight in shining armor.”

“Babe, I know you were fixing to serve his balls up on a plate, but some battles you don’t have to do alone.” Wrapping my hands around her waist, I bring her close.

“Plus, it was hot watching you get a little flustered,” I say, kissing her forehead. “Now, are you ready to go to the trailer for just a little while so I can rest and then get ready for the race?”

The walk back to the hauler is quiet. We were only stopped a handful of times by fans wanting an autograph or picture, and those I’m always happy to do. The fans are what makes our sport what it is. It may have started off with moonshiners but the ones who brought it into the light were the ones who sit in those stands and cheer the ones going over two hundred each weekend.

The hauler is like a second home to me, and I enjoy the space. While sitting down on the couch, I hear a knock come from the door. When I get up to see who it is, I’m surprised to see Ryan and Tinley at our door. The man is all about routine on race day, and to see him out of his box is different. As I look down at my watch, I can’t resist giving him shit that he isn’t checking off his to-do list.

“Ryan, aren’t you supposed to be rubbing a cat or something right about now?” I say with a smirk.

“Don’t you worry, I’ve already taken care of that pussy,” he says just as Tinley smacks him in the stomach as she walks by him toward Grace, who’s taken the seat I was just in.

After catching up with Ryan and Tinley and filling them in on the encounter with the nosy reporter, it was time for us to get ready for the race.

With Grace by my side, I walk toward my car, feeling at peace. She makes my worries wash away. Rubbing her wrist with my thumb as we listen to the national anthem, I know that I only have one thing left to do before getting in my car and going to work.

“Give ‘em hell, Cowboy,” Grace says before wrapping her hands around my neck, waiting for my kiss.

“I love you, Grace Miller,” I say, taking her breath away and seeing tears well in her eyes.

“You sure, Cowboy? I know I’m a pain in the ass and have the mouth of a sailor sometimes,” she replies, her smile growing as she speaks.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You make me want to be a better man, and with you by my side, I’m gonna make every dream come true that you’ve ever dreamed because you deserve it.”

“Matt McCall, damn you,” she says, tears spilling from her beautiful eyes.

“I love you; I think I have since the moment I took a chance on you in that hauler. You are just made from a different stock, that’s for sure. And that may be the reason why I’ve fallen so hard that it scares the hell out of me.”

Kissing her one more time, I pull back once again because it’s time to go to work.

“I just wanted you to know that before I go to work,” I say, climbing into my car.

She blows me one final kiss, and I watch as Grace makes her way over to Tinley and they head toward the pit area.

As I walk up to Tinley, I’m smiling so widely.

“Girl, you look like you ate a clothes hanger,” Tinley says.

“Thanks for that, Tin. Honestly, I’m just happy is all.”

“And why would that be, lady?” I know she wants me to spill all the details, and I will tell her in time, but right now, I want this moment to be just between Matt and me. The media have taken so many firsts from us that this one we’ll tell in our own time.

Talladega Speedway is one I both love and hate. She is a big mother of a track, and you put in thirty win-hungry men and it’s a recipe for disaster. The big one is bound to happen with cars bumping into each other before passing or slow cars not knowing when to get the hell out of the way.

After one hundred laps, we only have fifty to go. I’ve had a decent run today, but I lost a good many positions on a late pit stop.

The team tried to get me back where I needed to be, but I’ve had an uphill battle all day.

“Crash in turn three. Looks like it’s the big one. Go low, Matt. You gotta stay out of it,” I hear my spotter say just as I round the corner, dropping low and barely missing a car as it spins past me.

“Yellow flag is out. We have ten laps left and a shit ton of cars to try to get around if you wanna have a chance of winning,” my crew chief says over the headset.

After riding around for five laps, as they cleaned up what looks more like a junkyard than a racetrack, the flag attendant was giving us the green flag coming signal when we came around under our final caution lap.

I pull my straps just a little tighter and brace for the next four laps. I’m sitting in tenth. It’s doable at this track to slingshot that many cars, but I’ll need the extra help. Ryan is a few cars back, so if we can line up, maybe it could work.

As we round the third turn, my spotter makes me aware that Ryan is on board to help if he can get to us in time. Now it’s go time. We’ll get the green-white-checkered flag this time around.

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