I huff in displeasure and then stand up and start to walk away. “I knew you would never change. It’s why I left. Go back to New York, Sawyer.”
He comes up behind me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “At least look at it, Aspen.”
He hands me the folder and I open it, angry at the thought of what he wants me to sign this time. But when I read the words at the top of the first page, I gasp. It reads: Prenuptial Agreement.
I spin around to see Sawyer down on one knee, holding up a ring. And this time it’s not Murphy’s ring. It’s not a huge, flashy ring like the old Sawyer would have gotten. It’s a modest platinum band with a just-big-enough diamond. Because he knows that’s what I like. Because he knows me. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.
“Are you kidding?” I ask, trying to focus on him through my tears.
“There’s nothing fake about this ring. Or this proposal. Or how I love you. Because, I do love you, Aspen Andrews. I’ve loved you for a while now. And everyone except me seemed to know it. But right now it’s just you and me. There aren’t any cameras around this time. Everyone else can have the fake proposal on the internet. This one is just for us. And I promise you, everything from here on out will be real. No more hesitation. No more games. No more hiding behind the memory of my father.”
“Do you trust yourself with me?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I want to. I want to more than anything. But I can’t be sure. So I made sure you have a safety net.” He points to the prenuptial agreement. “If I ever hurt you in any way, you get it all. Our house, our kids, our bank accounts, everything.”
“Kids?” I say through my tears.
“Kids,” he says. “And it’s not just the prenup that will protect you. I told everyone everything about me. I told Brady and Caden and their wives. I told Bass. And as soon as I can, I’m going to tell Denver. If you ever feel threatened by me, you go to them. They know about my mom and dad now. They know about Danny. They will protect you if you ever need to be protected.”
I put my hand on his cheek and rub my thumb along his jaw. “I won’t need to be protected from you. But I don’t understand. None of them said anything after I left. Nobody tried to contact me.”
“I asked them not to,” he says. “I didn’t want anyone to spoil this. I needed you to be without me, without us, for a while. I needed you to be as miserable without me as I was without you. Please tell me you were miserable without me.”
I laugh and nod my head. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Good. But neither of us needs to be miserable any longer.” He nods to the ring he’s still holding. “Look at the inscription,” he says.
I take it from him and squint my eyes to read the tiny words engraved inside. It reads: Iron-clad contract.
Tears spill over my lashes. “I always knew you were a romantic.”
“That’s because you know me better than anyone else.” He shifts uncomfortably on the pavement. “Now my knee is fucking killing me, so what do you say, Aspen Andrews, will you marry this self-centered son-of-a-bitch and make me happier than I ever thought I could be?”
I grab his hands and pull him up to me. “Now, that’s a proposal I’ll never forget.”
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
“If the ring fits,” I joke.
“I’ll make it fit,” he says. “Because I’ll do anything to have you, Penny, including bending platinum with my bare hands.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “Penny?”
“Yeah. All the men who love you call you that, so I thought I’d give it a try.”
He slips the ring on my finger. It’s a perfect fit.
“I’ve never loved my nickname more than I do right now,” I tell him.
He cups my face in his hands, looking at me with so much love it literally hurts my heart. “I’ve never loved anything more than I do you right now,” he says.
He leans down until our lips meet. And as he’s kissing me, I try to recall what the date is. Because in my book, this is the date it all happened. Not the date our arrangement was made. Not the date he publicly declared his fake love for me. This date – today – is the date it became real. Our first real kiss. Our own private engagement. And if the heat in his eyes is any indication, the first time we make love. Real, honest-to-God love.
As we part, something tickles my ear. A butterfly is fluttering around us. We both stare at it, taking in the beauty of its multi-colored wings as it weaves a flight path around our heads.
I put my hand over his rib cage and rub my fingers across his tattoo.
And when the butterfly starts to fly away, I look up at Sawyer as he tries to control his emotions. “Bye, Mom,” he says after it. Then his gorgeous icy-blue eyes find mine. “I think she approves.”
I reach up and wipe his falling tears. “I think she does, Tom Sawyer. I think she does.”
Epilogue
Sawyer
She finally got us to Hawaii. After more than a year of hearing Bass talk about how it was the best trip of his life, she was able to put it all together. So now, I sit here with my best friends and their wives, the six of us on a beautiful beach in Kauai, taking in the sunset on Christmas Eve.
Caden and Murphy are each holding one of their two-year-old twins. Brady is tossing a baseball to his seven-year-old son over in the grass. Rylee is rubbing her five-month belly.
I look over at my wife and watch her watch the sunset. I’m amazed at how she loves life. I’m amazed at the way she grows more beautiful every day. I’m amazed by how much I love her.
“I wish Denver were here,” she says, looking back at me.
I can only smile. She has no idea that her brother and his girlfriend are flying in tomorrow to surprise her. It’s one of my gifts to her. I’d do anything to make this woman happy.
I come up behind her and brush her hair aside, kissing the butterfly tattoo she got on the back of her neck after we were married. It’s just one of the many places I enjoy kissing her.
“Mmmm,” she mumbles, leaning her head back onto my shoulder. “I could get used to this.”
“Too bad Hawaii doesn’t have a team, huh?”
“And leave Kansas City? No way,” she says turning around and lifting my right hand to admire the World Series ring I’m wearing. “Not after what you’ve done there.”
“Not after what we’ve done there,” I say. Then I hold up my left hand. “Besides, the only ring that matters to me is this one.”
“Me too,” she says, putting her left hand alongside mine as we admire the rings we’ve worn for just short of a year.
I take both of her hands into mine and then I kiss each of her fingers. “I love these,” I say. “I love the music you play with them. Have you given any more thought to the job offer from the university?”
She shrugs and smiles at me. “Come on,” she says, grabbing my hand and leading me out toward the water. “I know you love surprises. Are you ready for one of your Christmas presents?”
“Here?” I ask.
She leads me across the soft sand, out to where gentle waves have the water lapping at our feet. She stands in front of me, pulling my arms around her so my hands rest against her stomach. Then she stretches her neck around and gives me a brilliant smile.
My heart leaps in my chest. “Really?” I ask, rubbing my fingers across her flat belly.
She nods. “I found out last week. I hope you’re not mad at me for not telling you. I thought it would be more romantic if I told you here. I’m nine weeks along. I think it happened the night you won the Series.”
“Oh, my God. I’m gonna be a dad?”
“You’re not just going to be a dad, you’re going to be the best dad,” she says. Then she pulls something out of her pocket. “And if I were you, I’d start getting some advice from Caden.”
I look at the ultrasound photo and try to make sense of what is the very first picture of our child. Then I ask, “Caden? Why
not Brady?”
Then she just smiles at me. She smiles at me until I get it.
The End
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Samantha Christy’s passion for writing started long before her first novel was published. Graduating from the University of Nebraska with a degree in Criminal Justice, she held the title of Computer Systems Analyst for The Supreme Court of Wisconsin and several major universities around the United States. Raised mainly in Indianapolis, she holds the Midwest and its homegrown values dear to her heart and upon the birth of her third child devoted herself to raising her family full time. While it took time to get from there to here, writing has remained her utmost passion and being a stay-at-home mom facilitated her ability to follow that dream. When she is not writing, she keeps busy cruising to every Caribbean island where ships sail. Samantha Christy currently resides in St. Augustine, Florida with her husband and four children.
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The Perfect Game: A Complete Sports Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 88
