Sweet Carolina(67)
Caro nodded at the murmurs around the room as they figured out the chart. “That's the stop where the altered gas was put into the car's fuel cell. Now, if you follow the timeline, you'll see Dell went back out on the track, and even though the track temperature was significantly lower than it was when he pitted, the car's performance, though elevated, was less than the seven percent improvement exhibited before the pit stop.” She paused to let the men absorb what they were seeing.
“So, gentlemen, the data supports my conclusion that the additive actually produced a negative effect on the engine's performance, rather than a positive one. Dell won the race despite the additive, not because of it.”
Caro sat. She gave Dell a brief smile. He reached over and took her hand in his and squeezed. Whatever they decided, Caro was okay with. As long as Dell believed in her, it didn't matter if no one else in the whole world did, and she was darned tired of letting other people dictate her private life.
* * * *
Goddamn she was cute, Dell thought as he shook the bottle and sprayed champagne on Caro's scrunched up face. She'd told him more than once how much she hated this part of the Victory Lane celebration, but after their first win following the Talladega disaster, when he'd bathed her in champagne in Victory Lane, then minutes later took her to the hauler and proceeded to lick it off her skin, she'd come to tolerate it. For his sake, she said. She might not admit it, but behind those scrunched up eyelids, she was imagining his lips on her skin, making her squeal and moan as he drank champagne from her navel, celebrating, Dell Wayne style.
“Stop! Dell!,” she protested with a laugh. “Enough!”
He passed the near-empty bottle to the closest person and tugged Caro close. She lowered her hands from her face and allowed him to brush the champagne from her eyelids with his thumbs. He followed that by kissing the champagne from her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back as a chorus of whoops rose from the crowd.
When she pushed against his chest, he let her go, but not before brushing his lips across the shell of her ear and whispering, “I love you.”
A reporter shoved a microphone in between them, and Dell shifted to face the reporter, holding Caro close, with an arm around her waist.
“Dell, your season got off to a rocky start, and here you are now, celebrating another win, and you're on your way to the Chase for the Championship. How do you feel about that?”
Dell gave Caro's hip a reassuring squeeze. They'd come a long way since Talladega, and he'd won more races, and had more decent finishes in the last half of the season than ever before in his career, but none of it mattered to him.
“For me to end up where I am right now is proof positive that anything is possible in NASCAR,” Dell said. “I've got my work cut out for me in the next ten races. I can't let my brother win – that just wouldn't be right.” Dell smiled and waved at Dickey who was waiting for his turn to congratulate the winner.
“Speaking of your brother, it's been quite a season for the two of you. Do you and Richard Warner have any plans to team up in the future?”
“I don't think so, but you'd have to ask him. He's a big-shot team owner now, and I'm just a lowly driver.”
“Are the rumors true you loaned Richard the money to buy out Butch Renfro after NASCAR banned him from racing for tampering with your car?”
“I didn't loan Dickey anything,” Dell said. He'd only given him what was rightfully his, half the remaining money he'd inherited from Caudell Senior. Given Renfro's desperate circumstances, the money was more than enough to buy him out and keep the garage running. But that was no one's business but theirs.
“So you have no plans to drive for Warner Racing next season?”
Oh, hell no! Dell frowned at the camera. “No, I don't. I drive for Carolina Hawkins, and no one else.” He tugged her around, shifting at the same time so they stood face-to-face. He winked.
“Dell,” she whispered, “what are you doing?”
“Cameron,” he addressed the reporter, “if you'll forgive me, I have something I'd like to say.” Dell didn't wait for the reporter's agreement, barreling on as if he had every right to hijack a national television broadcast. “I know this is highly improper, but I've fallen in love with my team owner.” He turned his gaze to Carolina who stood, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Damn, he hated to blind-side her this way, but he didn't want to wait another minute to tell the world how he felt about her, and claim her as his own. He smiled at her, then dropped to one knee on the champagne-soaked ground.
The crowd grew quiet, or maybe she couldn’t hear them over the roar of blood rushing past her ears. Dell had a flair for the dramatic, but she never guessed he'd do something so foolish, and so sweet. He reached for her hands, and she held them out to him. He took them in his and placed a silly, smacking kiss on the back of each one. She laughed, despite the serious look Dell maintained. He looked up at her and she felt dizzy for the first time in her life. He squeezed her hands, and she steadied.