Page 33 of Break My Heart

Marcus lets out a low whistle. “Impressive ye ken thae words, David. Dae ye ken whit they mean?”

“You are an ass. You’re lucky I understand you.”

My brows wing upward. “He’s from Scotland, David. Don’t you mean arse?”

Both men crack up even as a third man turns away from the people he’s been speaking with. It’s a face I associate with my youth as he used to sneak Snickers to me in my father’s paddock after he finished discussing the team finances. His lips curve. “Christin.”

My smile is immediate. “Alessandro.”

He gives me a warm hug before studying me, gaze sweeping from head to toe like he’s aligning memory with reality. “Were you twelve the last time I saw you?” he asks.

“Nineteen and home from college.”

“There were pigtails.”

“Braids. There’s a difference. Besides, I was bored.”

He huffs out something that might be a laugh. “If I remember correctly, you were fifteen when you rewired your father’s telemetry screen because you didn’t like the delay.”

“It was inefficient.”

Marcus grins. “I bet Lewis near lost his marbles.”

“He did not.”

“He absolutely did,” Alessandro says. “I was there.”

I shake my head. “He was annoyed, not concerned.”

Alessandro’s gaze sharpens slightly. “He told you not to touch anything.”

“He told me not to break anything. Those are completely different instructions.”

Marcus howls outright. “Thair it is. That’s Porter logic.”

“How is he?” Alessandro asks.

“Still impossible and right more often than he should be.”

Marcus stops a nearby waiter and snags a few glasses of champagne. Passing them around, we clink our glasses together briefly before David remarks, “That’s good.”

Alessandro rolls his eyes. “Is he still watching races like he can outdrive half the grid from his living room?”

“Only half? Now you’re insulting him,” I mock.

All three men double over.

Marcus notes gently. “For a lang time, efter yer mum, he was inconsolable.”

“He’ll never be the same. She was the love of his life.”

“She would have been proud of you, Christin,” Alessandro murmurs.

“Thank you.”

Silence settles between us—not uncomfortably, just respectful. Then David quips, “So, I realized something the other day.”

“What’s that?”