Make Me Lose

by Leigh, Ember

And God help me, I hope that’s how we always stay.

  Epilogue

  ONE YEAR LATER

  HAZEL

  It’s another humid September ninth, except this year, we’re not decked out and heading downtown for the ball. No, this year, Grayson and I are celebrating our birthdays and our one year-ish anniversary with a good old-fashioned tennis battle.

  And believe me. I’m here to win.

  We saunter up to the courts behind the high school with mischievous looks on our faces. I’ve brought his birthday gift with me to distract him and secure my birthday victory. He glances down at the blue and white striped box in my arms every so often.

  “When can I open it?” he asks.

  “After I beat you,” I inform him.

  “I wanted to open it this year,” he says, a smile ghosting his lips.

  “Ha ha,” I intone. “You’ll be opening it in a matter of minutes. And what about my gift? You didn’t even bring it.”

  “No, it came along.” He sniffs, looking toward the horizon. “You’ll see it when it’s time.”

  The cryptic answer drives me wild. I want to know now, but I’ve got to keep my head in the game. We’ve had a lovely birthday so far, starting with our usual weekend slow sex in the morning, followed by coffee, followed by a jog around the neighborhood, followed by pancakes.

  We moved into Grayson’s house about six months ago. After he came to live in Bayshore, we decided that my house made more sense while he finished renovating his. But once it was done, neither of us could ignore how much we wanted to live there. Besides, he’s got the better view of the lake. And the balcony he rehabbed is too perfect. We spend almost every summer night up there, drinking wine or reading books.

  Life has never been better.

  Life finally feels complete.

  The tennis courts are empty as we roll up. Before he struts over to his side, I hand over the gift. My heart is racing. “Open it now.”

  He pumps his arm and digs in. He removes the wrapping paper in one slick tug, and soon he’s staring at the cardboard box I stuffed his gift in. He eyes me, carefully opening it. And then he slides the main feature out of its hiding spot.

  He blinks, his gaze sliding over the piece. It’s a cross-stitch I commissioned. Slowly, the smile blossoms on his face.

  It says, “My love for you is like a cockroach.” And there’s a cross-stitched cartoon rendition of the insect. Much cuter than in real life. That was my input.

  He laughs once and then again. Pretty soon he’s cracking up.

  “Do you like it?” I bound over to look at it beside him. “My love for you will survive anything. Ten years of absence. Complete neglect. Even wild misunderstandings from high school.”

  Grayson is beaming. He leans in to kiss me, and we make out a little in the middle of the tennis courts. When I feel the sun prickling at the tops of my shoulders, I realize we need to get this show on the road. Besides, I want to see when my gift will appear. I’ve been curious for weeks.

  Once the cockroach cross-stitch is safely tucked away, we launch into a brutal game. Any goodwill I might have accumulated with my perfect gift dissolves under the intensity of our competition. We dart back and forth, grunting like animals, the only sound the scuffing of our shoes and the thwunk of the ball volleying back and forth.

  He wins the first set. I win the second. Of course, we’re tied. Like always. But toward the end of the third set, something changes. Grayson taps out. The wind goes out of him, and he drops his racket. The ball soars past him and out of bounds. He rests his palms behind his head and stares at me, chest heaving.

  I blink, instantly miffed. “What the hell was that?”

  He grins a little, walking toward the net in the center of the court.

  “You dropped your racket and stopped playing,” I explain. “I win by default, but that—” I point at the ball in the far-left corner of the court. “That was not an earned win.”

  Grayson still hasn’t said anything. He stops at the net.

  “What is wrong with you?” I demand, storming up to him. As soon as I arrive, he drops to one knee. It takes me a minute to understand what’s happening. He rummages in the pocket of his mesh shorts and then produces a mystifyingly tiny black box. When he looks up at me, shiny faced and smiling, it still doesn’t click.

  “Hazel,” he starts, and that’s when I realize what’s going on here. My eyes turn to saucers. He pops open the box.

  A diamond the size of a molar stares back at me, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, stumbling backward.

  “Hazel, you and I both know that we are the perfect match for each other. And this tennis game is the last one you’ll ever win by default. Because I promise to never go easy on you. As long as you promise me the same. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, babe. Matching you. Growing with you. Loving you.” His grin widens, and that’s when I notice the tears in his eyes. “Will you marry me?”

  My mouth parts, and all the air in my body has vanished. Somehow, though, I find the sense to answer him.

  “Yes,” I whisper, my voice raw. “Are you fucking kidding me? Of course!” He captures me in a hug and whoops. I cling to him, the tennis net caught between us. But it doesn’t matter. It deserves a spot in this as much as we do. Tears stream down my cheeks, and it will be a while before I can find words.

  All I know is that this man in my arms is the only one for me. And we’re about to continue the adventure that we started thirty years ago. The one that everyone knew we were destined for. Everyone except us.

  Life has never been better.

  But we’ll keep trying to see how much better it can get.

  THE END

  Ready for MORE Daly Brothers? Don’t worry, there are still four brothers left. Next up? Make Me Fall, Connor’s story, releasing Fall 2019! Join my reader’s group to learn the latest about the next books in the series.

  Author’s Note

  The choppy waters of Lake Erie in the summertime are a special sort of haven, shrieking sea gulls and all. This series is set in a fictionalized mixture of my hometown and a neighboring town in northern Ohio. Writing this series has become a love song to my homeland.

  Even though I grew up mostly critical of my little slice of the world (like most moody, dissatisfied teens—HA!), I now recognize it for what it is: a gorgeous spot in the Midwestern landscape, one that is capable of producing all the love and emotion and depth that a romance author could hope for.

  I sincerely hope you enjoy this visit to Bayshore…and I hope you’ll continue this journey with the brothers of the Daly family!

  Connect with Ember Leigh

  Want an MMA novella FREEBIE? Join the EMBER LEIGH ROMANCE newsletter! You’ll get a FREE download set in the world of The Breaking Series. Additionally, by signing up to the newsletter you’ll stay up to date on new releases, occasional giveaways, and excessive baby and/or garden pictures!

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