25. Matt
My day has gone from one I was looking forward to to one that I just want to get over with as fast as possible. I thought everything was taken care of back at the shop when I left on Wednesday to come to visit my parents. And I thought that the car would sail through the inspection with no issues, but I guess dreaming is child’s play.
“Cowboy, look at me,” I hear Grace call out as I put our luggage into the trunk of the car.
I round the back as I close the trunk. Running her hand through my hair, I instantly start to relax just a little.
“Listen to me carefully, driver, okay?” Her voice is sexy—the one that she uses when she wants to be dominated.
“You are going to be great out there, and this is just a little bump in the road.” She gives me a little peck before trying to walk away from me. Grabbing her wrist as she turns, I pull her back to me again and kiss her with so much intensity and with all the emotion that I want to share with her but don’t because I think it will scare the ever-living hell out of her.
“All right, Red, get in the damn car before I fuck you where the whole world can see.” I smack that beautiful ass before she makes her way to the passenger seat, and we head toward the track.
It’s going to be a good day, no matter what. I have the sassiest-mouthed woman beside me who wants me to do well, and honestly, I think I may just be falling in love with her.
Walking into the garage area hand in hand with Grace, this time around feels different. The atmosphere is electric, and everywhere I turn I feel like we’re being watched because we are. If it’s not for the fans wanting to get close to the cars, then it’s the media snapping pictures of Grace and me.
“Grace, Grace, can we get a quote before the race?” I hear one of the reporters say as I walk over to check my car.
She looks up at me. “I’ll be right back. Let me appease them so they’ll leave us alone, Cowboy,” she says, giving me a quick kiss as she walks toward the vultures.
“Hello, gentlemen. You have, looking down at my watch, five minutes, so fire away,” she says to the reporters as I go over to find out what the hell went wrong in the inspection.
It turns out that the mistake isn’t as bad as I thought when they called me earlier to let me know that we were at risk of heading to the back of the pack. Turns out I was missing a lug nut. It may have come off when they were unloading the car. But that just goes to show that even the smallest detail could cost me the race and the possibility of the championship for Mac Motorsports.
Looking over at Grace, I can tell she’s deep in conversation with one reporter, and it looks to be getting a little heated, so being the good boyfriend/husband I am, I make my way over to her. She isn’t a damsel in distress, and I know she can handle herself when needed, but the raise of her voice as I get closer doesn’t sit right with me.
“Jim, what’s going on here, to make my wife talk over you?
“She was happy to answer your questions, but I’ll gladly walk away and leave you standing here,” I demand, instantly feeling protective of what’s mine and making sure that this asshole knows that I mean every word.
“Well, if it isn’t the playboy himself. Mr. McCall, care to answer my question that your wife refuses to?” I’m immediately on edge and in defense mode. Being on the edge with car issues, the last thing I need is some reporter with an ego.
“And what exactly is that, Jim?” I cross my hands over my chest, ready for this asshole to crawl back to the pit he came from.
“I was just asking Grace here if she was part of a long line of women who became a notch on your belt or did she think this was real. Because from where I stand, you’re not really married.” The asshole has the nerve to smirk as he continues to talk.
Letting my hands drop to my side, I feel my fist ball up, and I want to throttle this asshole faster than a two-hundred-mile-an-hour car, but I need to keep my cool. My contract is worth more than me beating the total shit out of this reporter.
I walk right up to him and make sure he’s looking directly at me. There are times in your life when you realize what you want, and this is one of them.
“Listen closely, Jim. I’m not going to repeat myself, so get that recorder ready,” I say, deadly serious.
“Grace belongs to me, mind, body, and soul. She’s not, nor has she ever been, a notch on my belt, as you put it. She’s my first love and my last. So if you ever question my devotion to my wife, I’ll make sure those credentials around your neck never appear again. Do I make myself clear, Jim?” I say, backing up just a little to grab his lanyard and inspect which media outlet he’s with.
With wide eyes I see him start to speak.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. McCall. And Mrs. McCall, I’m extremely sorry for making you feel less than and overstepping,” he says as he turns on his heels and heads off to bother someone else.
“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.
Gassing it as I pass the flag stand, I swing to the outside and head toward the lead car. I can feel the air grip as I get close to the next car, but I don’t take my foot off the pedal. I’m a man on a mission, and finishing as close to first as I can is my number-one job.
Just as we get the white flag, I see Ryan in my rearview mirror and know it is go time.
As we make our way out of turn two, Ryan taps my back bumper, giving me just enough push to send me diving under the lead car.
Crossing in front of the car, I see the finish line so close I can taste it. I push the car to its limit and cross the line just ahead of the pack.
I did it! The local boy from small town Alabama had taken down the beast.
Just as I slow, a voice comes over the headset.
“Cowboy, I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it! Now come to Victory Lane so I can kiss you. Oh, and Cowboy…I LOVE YOU!” Grace says as the headset disconnects.
Making my lap around the track, I slowly head toward Victory Lane, and putting my car into park, I climb out of my car to celebrate.
I won the race but what I really won was the girl of my dreams. She is worth all the media and all the news articles. She makes me want to be the man she deserves, and I will spend the rest of my days doing just that.