by Jewel Allen
“Gee, thanks.”
“I mean, are you limping?” She stared at my leg.
“Yes.”
She bit her lip. “Those kids are hard on you.”
“Just a little. But you know what, I’m loving the game again.”
She looked back toward the office building and then at me, her expression determined, as if coming to a decision. “Want to grab a quick bite to eat? I was just about to do that.”
Was she asking me out on a date? “Sure.”
“Do you mind if Cherise comes too?”
“Of course not,” I said, though I was a little disappointed it wasn’t exactly a date.
We walked over to Cherise’s door. She opened it with her usual grin, her hair put up in crazy-looking rollers.
“Hi,” she said. “What are you guys up to?”
“Want to go to dinner with us?” Gemma asked.
“Oh, I would love to, gang.” She blew on her nails. “But I have a hot date tonight with one of the guys I danced with last week.”
“Of course,” Gemma said. “No worries. Have so much fun.”
“I will.” She winked. “You guys too.”
Gemma and I exchanged awkward glances as she closed her door. “I guess it’s just me and you,” Gemma said. “Unless you want to invite Mike along.”
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes. “Not.”
“There’s Ali too. But she likes to keep to herself.”
“Why don’t you and I just go?” I suggested, trying to sound casual.
A smile flitted over her lips. “Okay. But not a ‘datish’ place.”
“What is a datish place?”
“You know, a romantic place.”
“How about the Chinese to-go place at the supermarket?”
I was completely kidding, but she said, “Great idea. Let’s do takeout and take it somewhere.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Let me grab my purse.”
I checked in with Brigid, who gave me a knowing smile. “I’m trying to figure out how to report your activities to the Princess Mother.”
“Your job is to keep me safe, Brigid, not cramp my love life.”
“Is this what this is about, Prince? Love?”
At that moment, Gemma came out bounding from the bunker building. My eyes followed her progress as I contemplated Brigid’s question.
“Don’t bother answering, Prince,” Brigid said softly. “I know the answer.”
“She’s hard not to love,” I murmured.
“You aren’t bad yourself.”
“Hi, Brigid,” Gemma said. To me, she asked, “Ready?”
Chapter Sixteen
Gemma
It felt good to finally get out of the building for the day. It was like busting out of prison and seeing sunshine for the first time. I could tell Diego kept casting curious glances at me because I couldn’t stop smiling, but I was feeling good.
I turned up the radio, and some fun eighties music rolled in. Diego knew the songs too, and we sang along, sometimes accidentally harmonizing, until we drove into the parking lot at the grocery store.
“You’re a great singer,” I commented when Diego opened my door.
“My brother tried to recruit me as backup for his rock band in college.” He winced. “I learned a few things, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I didn’t really have the time anyway.”
“Your brother’s a rocker?”
“A legit, true-blue rockstar. Not too famous. He’s more popular for being a prince in a rock band, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“What’s his name?”
“Alvaro Assante. Of the Royal Pain?”
I blinked.
“You haven’t heard of them?”
“Sorry, no,” I admitted, and Diego laughed.
The store had a little takeout section with five or six offerings. The owner, Mr. Lin, greeted me. “You got boyfriend? Finally.” He pointed at Diego with his ladle.
“Just a friend, Mr. Lin,” I corrected him, not daring to look in Diego’s direction.
“She work too hard,” Mr. Lin told Diego. “I told her fortune cookie can only help so much.”
“I got a fortune cookie that promised love and marriage,” I clarified.
“I want a good fortune cookie too,” Diego joked.
“Always good.” Mr. Lin nodded sagely.
I chose the House chow mein and the wonton soup with all the goodies. Diego got the broccoli beef, Kung Pao chicken, egg rolls, and ham fried rice.
“Now for best fortune cookie.” Mr. Lin motioned for them to stay put with both hands. “You wait.”
I smiled at Diego. “O-kay.”
He came out with what looked like a half-dozen cookies. “You try one. If you don’t like, open next one.”
With a laugh and thanks, I accepted Mr. Lin’s cookies.
“Where will we enjoy this?” Diego asked as we left the store.
“You’ll see.”
We bumped up the road leading to an overlook. No one else was around. Brigid and the crew parked farther down the road.
“Brigid should come and look out this spot,” I said, glancing back at them.
“We’ve already been,” Diego said. “That first weekend.”
“Oh.” My face fell. “So this isn’t a surprise.”
“Believe me, this is way more fun than checking it out with my bodyguards.”
I giggled. “Do you ever find yourself marveling that in these modern times, you can string together a sentence like that and it’s true?”
I parked my car backward and opened the hatchback. We spread out our food between us and dug in. I was starving. I’m sure I wasn’t ladylike with my mediocre chopstick skills, but neither was Diego.
“What are we looking at here?” Diego asked, glancing out at our town.
“That’s the church I go to, the one with the white steeple. That little ribbon of water winds through several properties, including one owned by the Brown family. They’re good friends of ours. That’s my house over there, near theirs. White house with that huge barn and corrals in the back.”
“Why don’t you live with your family during the week?”
“I could, sure, but I get free rent at the training center, and it gives me some independence.”
Diego munched on a piece of broccoli. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-four. Like you.”
“Did you google that?” he teased.
“Your life is an open book, Mr. Prince,” I pointed out.
“Yes, you definitely should believe the media.”
“Lots of juicy scandals.”
He gave me the stink-eye, and I chuckled.
“I like you this way,” he said.
My cheeks warmed. “What way?”
“Loose. Happy. Relaxed.”
“You mean you don’t like the rigid taskmaster I can be?”
He set down his chopsticks and studied my face, making me lower my eyes self-consciously. “Well, when I first met you, you came across as aloof, with this wall keeping the world out.”
“Could you blame me? I was meeting Prince Diego the Hothead for the first time. And then you came and you were, um, you looked like your pictures but better, and so of course I had to put up a wall.”
“Like my pictures but better?” he echoed with a smile.
“You know, it should be a crime if you’re not only royal but good-looking too.” I was skirting flirtatious grounds, but maybe the chow mein was getting to my brain.
He just smiled.
I wished he’d say something. The silence stretched on, but not uncomfortably. I simply wondered what he was thinking. Maybe I put my foot in my mouth. “You’re probably used to girls fawning over you.”
“That wasn’t fawning,” he said. “It’s just you being truthful.”
I laughed till tears ran. “And you are just being big-headed.”
He winked. “You got that right.”
“That was a good din
ner.” I started cleaning up, and he helped. We got all the trash into one bag, and I tied it shut. I didn’t really want to head back, but we had no excuse to just hang out there, talking all night.
The sun began to set, and I was glad I could show it to Diego.
“Wow,” he said, “that’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it?”
“You’re lucky to live here.”
I nodded, my heart in my throat.
“How do you top a night like this?” he asked.
I thought of ice cream at Joe’s, or a stroll on Main Street as the lights came on, or throwing rocks in the river by the Browns. But I didn’t suggest any of these things. My mind moved to the future, with Diego having to head back to his country. There wouldn’t be time to show him everything here.
He turned to me, and I looked back at him. His eyes held undisguised desire. My chest tightened with similar feelings, along with that little butterfly of fear that flitted about.
He jumped off the car and reached for the bag of trash. At first I was confused, but he simply moved it to where he’d been. He walked over so he was directly in front of me, blocking the sunset. He put a hand on either side of me and gazed at my mouth. A pulse of hunger licked through me.
We shouldn’t. Brigid and those guys were back there, watching us. Probably even recording. Diego was leaving in four weeks. He had a princess waiting for him back home.
I looked over to the side where the bag was.
“We should head back,” I said.
After a couple of seconds, he backed off a few steps. “Sure.”
Chapter Seventeen
Diego
Twilight had fallen when we got back to the training camp, and everything was dark. Gemma was quiet. I wished she would talk to me because…I cared about her.
Yes, what started out as a joke with Brigid was now a reality.
I was falling in love with this woman.
Full-blown, wanting to be with her. Wanting to kiss her. Wanting to be close and to know what was in her heart and mind.
I sat there in the passenger seat, blinking as this reality struck me. I didn’t know what to do about this. She gave out confusing signals, wanting me yet pushing me back. Happy and fearful, all at the same time.
I was confused too, to be honest. I had been content with my life back home and had plans to head back, a little changed, perhaps, from serving these kids.
Until looking over the town of Sunnyridge, I had little thought to the future. This was the place I would be asking Gemma to give up if she were to come back with me to my country. Would that be fair? And the scrutiny she would receive if we were to start truly dating. It would take a strong woman to withstand that. Gemma was a strong woman.
“Thanks for joining me,” she said.
In the darkness, my eyes traced her beautiful profile. “Thank you.”
“See you around,” she said.
No commitments. No plans for the weekend.
I went to open her door. When she got out, I wanted to reach for her but instead stuffed my hands in my pockets. I let her walk ahead of me until we reached her door. She turned and gave me an uncertain smile.
I didn’t want her to go, but what good was yearning for her?
That Saturday, I watched a replay of my team’s last game. The backup goalie was doing decent. They ended in a draw with that goal being off a goalie mistake—coming out too far from the goal. I missed playing the sport, but at the same time, I was happy where I was for the moment. I wouldn’t trade meeting Gemma for the chance to play in five games. Maybe I should be thankful for that obnoxious fan.
I did laundry and other mundane things that most journalists thought I outsourced when I was traveling. I even cooked a roast dinner for Brigid and the guys. I kept an eye out for Gemma out my window, but I didn’t have any sightings all day.
At ten that night, I left my place with a soccer ball, needing to blow off some steam. I never thought I’d feel this, but I missed working out with the team, workouts so hard we almost threw up. The trash-talking, the challenges. I needed to look into getting into a gym so I could get back into shape after these five weeks.
Someone had gotten to the field ahead of me.
Gemma.
I paused there for a minute, wondering if I should join her. She seemed to want space from me, and I was willing to give her that. But she drew me like a moth to a candle.
“Hey,” I called out.
She turned, her foot on a soccer ball. “Hey.”
“I can come back later.”
We were yards away, but I could see her solemn expression. “There’s plenty of room.”
“I’ll take the other goal.”
She nodded.
I warmed up by dribbling up and down the field then took some shots into the goal. I practiced some footwork and headers and a few kicks.
“Want to scrimmage?” Gemma called.
I turned, my throat constricting at her beauty. She held the ball at her side, her eyes full of challenge. “Sure,” I said lightly.
She dropped the ball and started dribbling my way. I watched her progress, anticipating where she would be moving to. She stopped, swiveled, tapped the ball the other way, and outsmarted me to the goal.
“Great job,” I said, genuinely impressed.
“Thanks.”
“Are you hurting?” I asked.
“Not too bad.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t get bad when I’m busy doing something else.”
“My shoulder’s the same way,” I commiserated.
The sound of sprinklers coming on the next field over cut into our conversation. We scrimmaged intensely for several minutes, until we were holding pretty even. She was good, but my pride didn’t want a girl to beat me. When I got a goal on her, I crowed with a laugh.
“Lucky goal,” she said.
“Actually, I was playing with a handicap.”
“Oh?” She smirked. “Nice story.”
“Hard to score past a distracting goalie.”
She cradled the ball in her arms with a little smile and trundled off. I watched her walk away with an ache in my chest. Was she just going to continue keeping me at arm’s length? I followed her like a puppy dog.
Yes, I was a glutton for punishment.
I hoped Brigid was having a field day watching me get rejected over and over.
Gemma lay on the grass and looked up at the sky. I dropped on the space beside her and followed suit. The stars were startlingly clear, the sky beautiful.
“Do you know your constellations?” she asked.
“Mainly the North Star. And you?”
“I know many of them. Mostly the ones with interesting stories. Andromeda. And Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia was a princess. I wanted to be her when I was a little girl.”
I smiled at the wistfulness in her voice. “So you wanted to be a princess?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“If you marry me, you could be my princess.” My heart pounded as I looked over to watch her reaction.
She blinked then looked up at the sky. “Why keep my hopes up?” she whispered. “That sounds so far-fetched.”
“Maybe I’m keeping my hopes up.”
“I don’t see how—”
I reached over and pressed my finger on her lips. They were soft. Moist. She turned her head quickly, the expression in her eyes tortured.
“Don’t fight ‘us,’ Gemma.”
She shook her head, my finger brushing against her mouth. If her lips had been kindling, they would have burst into flames by now. I took my hand back and propped myself on my elbow.
Clutching her midriff, she watched me with wide eyes.
Taking a page from Americans, I didn’t need to ask her permission to claim a kiss. She said so herself. We lay about a foot apart, but it seemed like ten feet or more. I inched over on my hip, closing the gap between us until my face hovered over hers.
Her eyes took in my mouth, and I moved until ou
r faces were just an inch apart. She closed her eyes, her lips parting.
Whoosh.
Buckets of sprinkler water doused us. We both gasped and scrambled to our feet, running off the field. Our cleats clip-clopped on the parking lot and then the covered walkway leading up to her door where we doubled over, laughing.
“Nothing like a cold shower…” I said, gasping for breath.
She giggled, shaking her wet hair out of her eyes.
Our smiles faded. In the silence of the night, the sprinklers hissed and ebbed. I straightened and waited a heartbeat before striding over to capture her mouth in mine. After a moment of shock, she started responding. Soft and sweet.
My lips slid over hers, my fingers slipping through her wet hair. Her arms went around my torso. She kissed me back, gasping in protest when I stopped kissing her and moved away, but only so I could move into an angle to deepen our kiss. When we came apart, I rested my forehead on hers.
“Wow,” she murmured.
I smiled and caressed her cheek.
Minutes and another kiss later, I kissed her nose.
“I’d better go in,” she murmured. I loved that she sounded reluctant. “Good night.”
I could have reached for her again, but I let her go. “Good night.”
“Oh.” She gave me a hesitant smile. “Would you like to go with me to church tomorrow? With my family.”
My heart lurched with gladness. “I’d love to.”
Chapter Eighteen
Gemma
Sunday morning, I woke touching my lips and reliving our kisses from the night before. What a memorable night.
I put my arm over my eyes and groaned. “Gemma, Gemma, what have you gotten yourself into?”
Why did I invite him to church? Probably because of those earth-shattering kisses.
And maybe it was a test. It was like asking a boy to dinner. One of those milestones my family used to measure how serious my relationships were.
When I was in college, I was visiting a friend in the hospital and the hospital orderly asked me out to a concert. When I told my friend I’d accepted, he looked at me with concern. “Are you sure you want to go with a complete stranger?” He had a great point, but I felt bad about walking back my acceptance. My friend suggested I invite the guy to church. The guy turned me down.
