Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)(87)

“Whatever happens,” she whispered. “With the race, with the baby, with the future, I want you to know I don’t regret any of it. I love you.”

Josh put his hands on her shoulders, then kissed her. “I love you, too,” he said when he straightened.

The floor seemed to lurch a little, then still. She felt every muscle freeze in shock. “W-what?”

He grinned. “I love you, Charity. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I love being with you, how I feel when I’m around you. I want to be the man in your life. The person you can depend on. I want us to be a family. For always. I want you to marry me.”

The words bounced around in her brain like a dozen pinballs. Individually they made sense but together they were impossible to believe.

“You love me?”

“Yeah.” He kissed her again. “As soon as the race is over, we’ll work out the details. Where we’ll live, when’s the wedding.”

His lips continued to move, so she would guess he was still talking. But she wasn’t listening.

The race. How could she have forgotten? This was all about the race. About being famous and important. About being the guy on the poster.

“I haven’t said I’ll marry you,” she pointed out.

“I know. When I win—”

“That’s what’s important, isn’t it? Winning. I don’t want to be with someone who has to be worshiped by millions, Josh. I want to be with a guy who wants me. Just me and our kids and maybe a dog.”

“I do want you. I’m not staying on the circuit. I just need to prove I’m worthy.”

What crap, she thought bitterly. “That’s just an excuse to be fawned over. Winning the race doesn’t matter to me.”

“It matters to me,” he told her. His jaw was set, his expression determined. “My mother left me because I was broken. She didn’t want to bother. Angelique left when I couldn’t race anymore.”

“I’m not either of them.”

“I want you to be proud of me.”

“I already am.”

“I need to be proud of myself.”

Which was the truth. This was about him and how he felt. She knew that. But would it end with one race? Could he hear the crowd and then walk away? No.

“I’ll win and then we can be together,” he said.

He was everything she’d ever wanted. The man she loved, the father of her unborn child. But he asked for the impossible.

“I won’t be with you if you race,” she said. “I don’t want to be with someone who needs to win to feel whole.”

The door next to them burst open. Pia stuck her head out. “Oh my God! They said yes. We’re getting the hospital. Isn’t that the best?”

“The best,” Charity whispered, knowing she had won and lost in equal measures that morning.

CHAPTER TWENTY

JOSH SAT AT THE BAR, sipping from his glass of water. It was three days before the race and he was in the best shape of his life. His carefully choreographed workouts had honed every muscle, tightened every reflex. He’d done the work—now all he needed was a little luck.

“For a guy on the verge of being a hero, you don’t look happy,” Jo said. “Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and continued to stare at the bar.

Jo glanced around, as if making sure no one could hear, then leaned close. “You’ll do it, Josh. I’ve seen you practicing. You’ve been right in the middle of the pack and there hasn’t been a problem. You’re fine. You have to believe that.”

He slowly raised his head to stare at the woman across from him. Her eyes were soft with understanding.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“I know you were scared for a long time, but you did it. You figured out how to beat the fear. I don’t think I could have. To go through what you did? No way. But you’re the man.”

The impossible truth slammed into him. His mouth went dry. “You knew?”

“That you couldn’t ride anymore? Not counting those late-night rides you took all the time. That was dangerous. But I guess it was the only way you could get through it, right?”

He felt exposed and more than a little stupid. “You knew?” he repeated.

“Um, yes.”

He swallowed and straightened. “Let me guess. Everyone knew. Everyone in town.”

“Not everyone. Most people. We didn’t want to talk about it. You needed space to heal. It made sense.”

The past two years replayed in his mind. A montage of highlights, so to speak. He remembered how carefully he’d hidden his bike, how he’d ridden in the dark, too ashamed to be out in the light. How everyone had teased him about being out having sex, when they’d known exactly what he was doing.

He didn’t know if he should crawl under a rock or be grateful.

“You look confused,” Jo said.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

She smiled. “You’re one of us. We love you.” Her smile widened. “I’m speaking generally, of course. I don’t want Charity coming in and beating me up.”

“You think she could take you?”

“Love does interesting things to a woman. Gives her strength.”