The Full Velocity Series Box Set

by Tracie Delaney

  “Next weekend.” She groaned. “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck,” I called after her as she wandered off to find Tate before he zoned out ready for the race.

  Slipping out the back, I wandered back to the motorhome. I’d love to watch the race from the garage, but I didn’t want Theo breathing in all those fumes, and despite having Penny on standby, I took my motherly duties seriously. She was there to assist, not to bring up my son on my behalf. Besides, I wanted Theo and me to watch his dad’s last race together. It would be a lovely anecdote to tell him when he was old enough to understand.

  I crept inside, hoping not to wake my sweet baby boy. He’d been fast asleep an hour ago, and given his lack of rest during the night, he needed to catch up.

  “How is he?” I whispered to Penny.

  “Lights out,” she grinned. “Not a peep.”

  I theatrically swiped at my brow. “Phew.” I leaned over his basinet and marveled at the gorgeous little human Jared and I had created. He reminded me so much of Jared. Every day he changed, bringing new wonder into our lives. Considering how freaked out I’d been at the beginning of my pregnancy, I couldn’t imagine my life without this adorable bundle who’d brought a richness to our lives neither of us could ever have imagined.

  “You can head off if you like,” I said to Penny with a knowing look. Penny had recently started up a relationship with one of the pit crew in Dad’s racing team. He was fairly new to us, but so far, he seemed like a stand-up guy.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, a gleam of hope lighting her eyes.

  “Positive. Although he’ll be too busy to talk to you,” I warned.

  “That’s okay,” she said, ducking her head to hide the tinge of pink coloring her cheeks. “I just like to watch him work.”

  I know the feeling.

  Sadness crept into my heart. This would be the last time I’d ever see Jared behind the wheel of a Formula One car. His talent took my breath away, and despite his assurances, he didn’t fool me. I knew he’d miss it. But I also knew he wouldn’t lie to me. If his decision to allow me to return to work and for him to take a backseat was making him unhappy, he’d talk to me about it. Whenever I brought it up, he would reiterate his firm commitment to the decision.

  I flicked on the TV, immediately muting it to avoid disturbing Theo. The cars were surrounded by mechanics, and press swarmed everywhere. And then they cleared out leaving twenty-two cars on the grid. My gaze immediately slid to Jared in pole position, Tate alongside him in second place. Tension flooded my chest. The start of the race was the most exciting, but also posed the greatest danger of accidents occurring.

  They set off on their parade lap, an organized warm-up where no overtaking or racing of any kind was allowed. Two minutes later, they filed up at the start. My pulse rocketed, my heart thumping against my ribcage.

  Five red lights appeared on the gantry. They’d count down from five to zero, and then the race would officially begin. The cars revved their engines, ready to drop the hammer, hit the gas, and hopefully get a jump start on your opponents.

  As the last light went out, Jared launched forward. I shuffled to the edge of the couch, nibbling on my fingernails and muttering under my breath. Come on. Come on.

  He made it safely into the first corner, and by the end of the lap, he already had a one-second lead over Tate.

  I relaxed. The worst was over.

  Less than one hour and forty minutes later, Jared crossed the finish line in first place. I stuffed my fist into my mouth in case I yelled and woke Theo. Pride swelled my chest as I watched Jared pump the air. Despite winning the World Championship last week, he’d wanted to go out on a high.

  After coasting the car into Parc Fermé, where all the cars were funneled after the race, Jared leaped out of the cockpit and threw himself at Devon, his race engineer. The rest of the team piled in, hugging and clapping him on the back.

  Tears pooled in my eyes, blurring my vision. I blinked to clear it. I didn’t want to miss a single moment.

  Theo stirred beside me, then whimpered. I picked him up and cradled him, pacing up and down as I watched Jared go through the formalities of the weigh in. His hair clung to his scalp, the effort of controlling a powerful beast for so long sapping every ounce of energy. Those who didn’t understand racing thought it was easy, but these guys were seriously fit. Jared worked out for hours in the gym every week.

  Not that I was complaining.

  He disappeared from view, but seconds later jogged out onto the podium and took his place on the top spot. The American national anthem rang out. Jared placed his hand over his heart, his lips moving as he sang along. His eyes shone with every emotion possible. God, I wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him how much I loved him, but it would be a while before that happened. He had a gazillion press interviews to do, followed by a team debrief. It would be a few hours before he walked through that door and into my arms.

  Except suddenly there he was, standing in the doorway, exhausted yet exhilarated.

  My hand flew to my mouth, and tears streamed down my face.

  “You did it,” I croaked.

  In two strides, we were in his arms. Me and Theo. He wrapped us both in his embrace, and then his mouth covered mine in a searing kiss that, fortunately, Theo was far too young to understand.

  “I love you, Ley.” He kissed the top of Theo’s head tenderly. “I can’t wait to start our new lives. You, me, and our son.”

  I gazed up at him through my tears. “No regrets?”

  His lips touched mine once more. “Not a single one.”

  THE END

  Flip the page to catch up with Madison and Tate.

  MADISON & TATE

  Madison

  Mum pressed a hand to her chest, tears I’d known would come already clinging to her bottom lashes. She blinked furiously, but then gave up trying to hold them back. Rivers poured down her cheeks, and her eyes softened.

  “Oh, Madison. You look so beautiful. Your dad won’t cope.”

  I grinned, twisting to the right as the seamstress made the last couple of adjustments to my wedding dress. In three weeks, Dad would walk me down the aisle to marry a man I’d spent two years of my life hating with a fiery passion that burned so deep, I thought I’d never escape from my hateful thoughts.

  Yet I had. Tate had won me over, his boyish charm and innate goodness rendering me powerless to resist. The fact he was damn easy on the eye and made me tingle all over every time he came within five feet of me didn’t hurt either.

  “You’ll have to pack extra tissues, Mum.”

  “And you’ll need to make sure he actually lets you go once his part is over. I wouldn’t put it past your dad to try to kidnap you.”

  I laughed. “I think Tate might give chase, and he’s faster than dad in a sprint, I’m sure.”

  “How is Tate coping with all this?” Mum asked. “Is he panicking yet?”

  I shook my head. “About the wedding, no. About the dinner we’re having with his parents this weekend… that’s a different story.”

  Tate’s parents were what I called “special”, a.k.a. two of the coldest, most ghastly people on the planet. Ever since Tate’s elder brother, Cameron, died of leukemia over fifteen years ago, they’d pushed and coerced Tate into a life he hadn’t wanted, albeit one he’d grown to love in time. Yet whatever brilliance he displayed on the track it was never enough. In their eyes, he’d always be the son who wasn’t Cameron.

  Since Tate and I had gotten together, he’d become estranged from his parents. I didn’t blame him for cutting them off, although I didn’t encourage him to continue his vendetta either. Whatever their faults, they were still his mother and father. Which was why I’d come up with the bright—or stupid—idea to invite them to the wedding as a kind of attempt at extending an olive branch, a way of building bridges through a happy event. I’d hate it if something happened to them before he’d even tried to make amends, stripping him of his chance to
reconcile, or at least gain some closure for himself.

  When I’d broached the subject to Tate, he’d simply shrugged and said I could invite whoever I wanted, although he doubted they’d come. Imagine his surprise when, not only did they RSVP, but they also added a note asking us to dinner this weekend.

  Ever since that letter arrived, Tate had withdrawn into himself. I didn’t nag him or try to cajole him out of his funk. I just supported him, talking when he wanted to talk, and being quiet when he wanted to reflect. I couldn’t imagine the painful childhood and young adulthood they’d subjected him to, but I’d witnessed their callous parenting for myself the very first time Tate had taken me to meet them. It had ended with his mother slapping me across the face in front of a room full of guests, and Tate declaring he wanted nothing more to do with them.

  That was more than three years ago, and Tate had seen them once since then, when his mother caught pneumonia and spent a week in the hospital. This weekend would constitute the second occasion, and neither of us was looking forward to it. I wondered, though, whether their acceptance of the wedding invitation was the beginning of them realizing they might have lost one son, but they still had another, and a pretty amazing one at that.

  “You’re a good person, Madison,” Mum said, drawing me back to the present. “I, more than most, understand the pain of losing a child, but I will never understand the way that woman treated Tate.”

  “Me either,” I said, my mind wandering to my brother, Dean, who’d died in an illegal streetcar race when he was only nineteen. Yet, unlike Tate’s family, our loss had brought us closer together. “I wish Dean were here.”

  Mum smiled. “He is, love. He’ll watch every step you take up that aisle with love and pride. As will I.”

  I hugged her. “I couldn’t wish for a better mum.”

  “Or me a daughter.”

  After my wedding dress fitter had helped me out of my gown, promising to have the final alterations done for next week, I dressed and took mum to one of her favorite restaurants for lunch. After driving her back home, I called in to the florists to check everything was on track.

  Tate had tried to persuade me to hire a wedding planner, but I’d refused. Mum and I agreed we wanted to organize everything ourselves. Besides, we weren’t having an enormous fancy affair. Despite Tate’s fame through his job as a racing driver for the Nash Formula One team, we’d decided on an intimate wedding. Family, close friends, and Tate’s racing coworkers.

  As I walked back to my car, my phone rang. I fished about in my bag, grinning when I saw the caller. My best friend, and maid of honor, Kaz.

  “Babes, sorry I couldn’t come to your dress fitting today,” she said. “Bloody patients.”

  I laughed. “You don’t mean that. And it’s cool. Final fitting is next week, for both of us.”

  “The fact I’m wearing a dress is testament to how much I adore you,” Kaz said, ever the tomboy. Kaz lived in jeans, T-shirts and sweatpants. Or scrubs when on shift at the hospital. I’d plied her with alcohol before I broke the news that she’d have to wear a full-length coral dress with an off-the-shoulder design. After much grumbling, she’d agreed, and then booked in several sessions with a personal trainer to make sure she had the perfect shoulder line.

  I loved Kaz to bits.

  “And I’m very grateful,” I said, a hint of teasing in my voice.

  “Hmph,” she snorted. “Well, make sure Tate fetches along a few single hotties for me to play with, and I will forgive all.”

  “Message received and understood,” I said. “Poor buggers. I’ll have to warn them about the man-eater on the prowl.”

  “Cheeky cow,” Kaz said.

  “Did you ring only to apologize and then insult me, or was there another reason?”

  “I called to see if you were free for a drink this Saturday. I’m not rostered on this weekend, and I feel like letting my hair down.”

  “I can’t,” I said despondently. “Saturday is when we’re going over to Tate’s parents’ place.”

  “Ohhh yes. Your meeting with the beast from the east and the witch from the west.”

  I laughed again wishing, not for the first time, I could invite Kaz along. She’d give Tate’s mother a run for her money. Not that I was particularly shy in that regard, but considering the last time I saw the woman she belted me, I wasn’t exactly anticipating a warm welcome.

  “Why don’t you come over on Sunday. Then I can update you on what went down.”

  “Sounds good,” Kaz said. “I’ll bring a bottle.”

  I drove home and nosed the car into the underground car park beneath what had originally been Tate’s bachelor pad, but now was our home. He’d suggested we move, find somewhere together, but I loved this apartment on the top floor of one of the most exclusive buildings in Kensington. As I entered the private elevator and punched in the code, I chuckled to myself, recalling the first time I’d arrived unexpectedly at Tate’s place only to be told by the receptionist that I had to be on an approved list to access the elevator, how Tate had watched me on CCTV fizzing as I paced and called Kaz to give me the jerk’s phone number.

  What a difference a few years made.

  “Honey, I’m home,” I singsonged as I strolled into the large open-plan living space. Tate was lounging on the couch watching a rerun of the last race of the season, taking notes of where he might have been able to eke out a few more thousands of a second. He took his work extremely seriously, which was the reason he enjoyed so much success.

  He gestured for me to join him on the couch, then snuggled me into his side and kissed the top of my head. “How did the dress fitting go?”

  “Good. I took Mum for lunch afterward. She’s in her element. Final fitting next week, then we’re done.”

  His thumb brushed my hip, then he burrowed beneath my top, inching the tips of his fingers up my side. “I can’t wait to make you mine.”

  I chuckled. “I’m already yours.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I mean properly mine.”

  “I’m not a possession,” I said, teasing him. He knew I loved it when he showed his dominant, possessive side.

  “Yeah, you are.”

  He moved fast, and before I knew it, he had me beneath him. Caging me with his body, he began a journey that only had one ending. I threw my arms behind my head, gripped the arm of the couch, and hung on for the ride.

  Tate

  “Mads, where are my cufflinks. Y’know, the ones Jack gave me last Christmas.”

  Madison padded through from the living room, an eye roll in full swing. She made a beeline for the large dresser over by the window, opened the top drawer, and produced said cufflinks.

  “Men,” she said, passing them to me. “Sometimes you have to actually look.”

  “I did look,” I said in defense, even though I hadn’t. I knew she’d lay her hands on them in three seconds. What was the point in me half-destroying the bedroom in a pointless search?

  “Liar,” she said, slapping my backside as I walked away.

  I spun around, snagged her around the waist, and held her close to me. “Do that again and we’ll be late for dinner.”

  “You wish,” she said, her eyes tracking my face, trying to read my thoughts. She sighed deeply. “We can cancel, you know. They can’t force you to attend. If you truly don’t want to go, then I’ll call and tell them we can’t make it.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t do that. It’s one night. You reached out by sending them a wedding invitation. They reached out by responding and with tonight’s invitation. If we attend and it all goes down the shitter, as I anticipate it will, then no one can accuse us of not trying.”

  “They might have mellowed.”

  I snorted. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

  “Then maybe there’s a reason they’ve made this gesture.” She hitched a shoulder. “Only one way to find out.”

  “Yeah. By entering the bowls of hell.”

  She laug
hed, planting a kiss on my lips. “Hurry up. We’re going to be late.”

  I watched as she left the room, the cobalt-blue knee-length dress she’d chosen for tonight clinging to her like a second skin. I groaned, half in pleasure, half in regret at the lack of time.

  I attached the cufflinks, slipped on my jacket, and gave myself a final once-over, making a mental note of all the things my parents might choose to pick on tonight.

  Don’t you think your hair is a little long, Tate.

  Your father has a razor if you’d like to shave before dinner.

  So, I see that American beat you again this year. You must be relieved he’s retired, although your father and I always thought that the measure of a true champion is beating the best of the best.

  On and on it would go until I’d dig my fingernails into my palms so hard, I’d draw blood. Fuck, I wished Madison hadn’t invited them to our wedding. I’d only agreed she could send an invite because I was certain they wouldn’t want to come. No one had been more shocked than me when the RSVP had arrived.

  I’d made my mind up about one thing, though. If either one of them aimed a single nasty comment in Madison’s direction, that was it. We were out of there.

  “Tate,” Madison called out. “Stop stalling.”

  Madison’s generosity of spirit never failed to amaze me. She’d only met my parents on one occasion, not long after we’d begun dating, and my delightful mother had smacked her around the face hard enough to leave a four-finger imprint on her cheek. Yet although she teased me about my witch of a mother, and I knew her and Kaz, her best friend, had much worse names for her than that, she’d insisted on inviting them, on giving them one more chance at redemption.

  I feared it was much too late.

  I joined her in the living room where she was sitting on the couch fastening the ankle strap on her three-inch heels. When she stood, I allowed my gaze to travel slowly from her feet to her head. Thinking of what I’d do to her when we got home later tonight was the only thing that would help me endure the evening.