Page 127 of Over the Limit

“Maybe,” I murmur but smile to myself.

Did I just test him? Maybe subconsciously I did.

A small test to make sure what I already knew—that I made the right decision. That I picked the right man in the end.

Pick the man who says your ridiculous, whimsical dreams were awesome.

Not childish.

Not cute.

But awesome.

God, I can’t wait to get home to him.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Blair

“Close your eyes.”

“They’re closed and you have a blindfold on me. That makes it kind of hard to see,” I joke.

“Mmm,” Lachlan murmurs from behind me as his lips kiss their way down the curve of my shoulder and fire every nerve he didn’t already bring to life with the last kiss.

I can hear some rustling of paper. A weird noise that sounds like wheels. Wheels? I’m so confused. And then the sound of something—a box perhaps—being set down with a thump.

“What are you doing, Lachlan Evans?”

“You do know how much I want to show you off to the world as mine, right? How bad I want to utter the fucking words, she’s mine?”

“No, but damn.” His words make me stand taller and pull my shoulders back. “She’s mine,” I whisper.

“Exactly. I am so proud to call you mine. and I can’t wait until all this bullshit is over so I can say it. I sign my contract in a few days. The gala will be over and will have been incredible. Then we can just kind of step into existence as us without having to so much as say a word.”

“Promise?”

“God, Tink. I promise.”

I smile. After so many years of being in the background, I can’t wait to be front and center. To be . . . oh shit.

“What was that oof noise you just made?” he asks.

“I can be yours all I want but . . . my job.”

“Don’t be mad, but I had my lawyer look into it. There’s nowhere in any Formula 1 employees’ contract that says that an employee can’t date a driver on the circuit. Nowhere. There are rules on fraternization with bosses, etcetera, but not a driver. She’s looked through many iterations of them over the years so if Paolo wants to make an issue of this, if his boss’s boss wants to, then all he has to do is look at the incredible gala you’re putting on tomorrow as proof that you can do your job and do a damn good job at it.”

“But . . .” I open my mouth and close it. The last thing I want to do is ruin the mood by explaining that Paolo fears Monica is “helping” in return for a favor. And how weird it looks that all of a sudden, my boyfriend signs with the company she has huge influence with.

It all makes my brain hurt and is the most fucked up set of circumstances of coincidence I’ve ever been a part of.

I shake my head and chuckle. “It’s a tad weird having this conversation while blindfolded.”

“Took you long enough to ask.” He chuckles. “Okay. You can open your eyes.”

I slowly remove the blindfold, blink a few times to get used to the light in my place, and then do a double take when I see the rack of dresses in front of me. And not just any dresses. We’re talking elaborate dresses with beading and sequins and gorgeous colors.

“Lachlan. What is—”