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He doesn’t even stop typing. “Yep.”

“Mason!”

“Catherine!” he mimics.

“I’m being serious!”

“Same.”

“But are you ready for your mum to leak it to the world? Or worse, your dad somehow leveraging me against you?”

That gets his attention. He stops typing and stares at me. “What do you mean by leveraging?”

“I don’t know. Accusing you of not being serious because you’re with me. That you shouldn’t date where you work. Somehow I’ll distract you from driving—”

“I don’t care what he thinks,” Mason interrupts. “He will say nothing about you because I won’t let him. He’s free to criticise my driving, but not my relationship.”

I’m reminded of the conversation I had with Xavier. I wish Mason would protect himself and his driving the same way he’s determined to protect me right now.

I decide to broach the subject. “He doesn’t have the right to criticise your driving, either,” I say softly, reaching over and stroking my fingers through his hair. “You don’t owe him anything.”

“After all of his time and investment, I owe him a title,” Mason says, setting his jaw. “I can’t deliver that this year because Xavier has a lock on it, but I will deliver it.”

My heart sinks. Mason is performing under this pressure, and whilst he’s doing amazing things in that car, I can’t help but think of what he could do if this weren’t coming down on him. Yes, drivers leave everything behind when they get in the car, but not this intense pressure to perform.

This directive isn’t coming from the team principal at Collings Motors. It’s not coming from my grandfather. They’re happy with how he’s performing, and he’s surpassed the expectations they had before the season began.

All the pressure is coming from the man who should be supporting his son instead. I have to find a way to help Mason let go of this. So he’s just driving for the team.

And for himself.

“I’m going to tell them,” Mason says firmly. “And I’m wondering if we should just hard launch tomorrow.”

My heart leaps. “Really?”

“Baby, we were staying underground to make sure this was what we wanted. And to let your family get used to the idea. To work up to telling your grandfather. Now that he knows, and doesn’t care, I don’t see any reason to hide how I feel about you. I want everyone in that paddock to know you’re mine. Are you ready for that?”

I think of how much I’ve faced since I’ve been with Mason. I’ve followed my heart. I took a chance on a romance that nobody would have endorsed because of who we are. I’ve pushed myself to try new things, like the social media channel and the capsule concept. I confronted my mum about her past and told my formidable grandfather exactly what I wanted, both personally and professionally.

I’m growing because of my feelings for Mason. And I’m ready, too. “Tell them,” I say. “Tell the world whilst you’re at it. I don’t care.”

“Later,” he murmurs, putting his phone aside. His eyes lock with mine, his gaze intense. My heart begins to beat rapidly inside my chest. The air is charged between us, full of emotions and unspoken words, but revealing everything I need to know.

Mason is just as invested as I am in this.

In us.

“We’re on the same page, baby. You’re mine. And I want everyone to know it.”

Whilst I’m not ready to make any declarations to him—and Mason is not ready for that, either—I can show him how I feel without using any words. I move so I’m straddling him. Mason’s head falls back onto the cushion behind him, and I sink my hands into his hair. I lean over him, my long hair falling around him like a curtain, and flick my tongue across the seam of his lips, eliciting a low groan from his throat. He immediately grows hard against me, and I demand access to his mouth. Mason opens for me, and my tongue tangles with his, kissing him deeply.

Mason’s long fingers make quick work of the ties on each side of my shirt, and soon his hand is underneath my top, cupping my breast. A moan escapes my throat, but it’s quickly swallowed by his kiss. He’s squeezing and caressing me as I press my hips against his. He moves one hand to my hair, holding it back, and then he draws my lower lip between his teeth and sucks on it.

“Mason,” I murmur as everything in me begins to grow tight. “You make me feel so good.”

Another groan escapes his throat, which makes me feel powerful. Sexy. Desired.

“Say you’re mine,” he pleads as his mouth finds my neck. “Tell me you’re mine.”