Carolina Waves Bonus Epilogues

Six months later

We were meeting everyone at a waterfront restaurant in twenty minutes. Dan, Sabrina, Lexi, Cal, and a few of the other guys were already there. So were Hannah’s father, Melanie, and Jacob, who’d flown in from California that afternoon. Mrs. Button had arrived the day before, and even my father had agreed to come.

As far as she was concerned, we were having an end-of-spring-training dinner with Dan and Sabrina. She had no idea there was a private room filled with flowers, champagne, and everyone we love waiting for me to make good on the promise I’d blurted out in the airport six months ago.

I put the whole thing together.

Well, Sabrina did a lot of the legwork, but I approved everything, which should count for something.

I glanced over and found Hannah watching me through a pair of ombré frames that complemented the blue dress she’d bought during a shopping spree with Sabrina last weekend. The flowy fabric skimmed her curves and fell just above her knees. She looked fucking amazing, which wasn’t helping my already questionable ability to follow the plan.

The turn for the restaurant came into view.

I’d spent the entire day telling myself to wait until dinner. The room was ready, the champagne was chilling, and I’d felt the weight of the ring in my pocket all day.

But as I reached the intersection, the thought of waiting through drinks and appetizers before I could ask her suddenly felt impossible.

Worse, it felt wrong.

I didn’t want an audience when I officially asked Hannah to spend the rest of her life with me. What was I thinking? That moment should belong to us.

A nearly empty patio strung with lights flashed through my mind, and I knew exactly where I wanted to take her.

At the last second, I drove past the turn.

“Weren’t we supposed to turn there?” Hannah asked.

“I’m taking a detour.”

Her eyebrows pulled together. “We’re meeting Dan and Sabrina in twenty minutes.”

“I know.”

“In the opposite direction.”

“I know that too.”

We drove another few miles in silence. Her attention shifted to the road, and I knew the exact moment she recognized the route.

“I know where we’re going.”

I didn’t answer.

When the ice cream stand came into view, she turned toward me.

“You’re taking me for ice cream before dinner?”

“I want a banana split.”

“We’re going to be late.”

“Dan and Sabrina will be fine without us for a little while.”

I pulled into the gravel lot. The place was always packed during the day but practically deserted at night, which was one of the reasons I’d brought her here the first time. It was perfect for tonight too.

Hannah unbuckled her seat belt and looked at me like I’d lost my mind before getting out of the truck. I met her near the hood and took her hand as we walked across the lot.

At the window, I looked at Hannah. “Hot-fudge sundae?”

“I’ll wait for dinner.”

I ordered a banana split with two spoons.

“I told you I’m waiting for dinner.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you get two spoons?”

“Because I know you.” I leaned down and gave her a quick kiss.

While we waited, my phone buzzed. I didn’t have to look to know it was Dan or Sabrina asking where the hell we were.

The girl at the window handed me the banana split, and we walked around the side of the building. Strings of lights woven through the beams of the patio roof cast a soft glow over the tables, just as they had that first night.

I chose a table near the back and set the banana split between us. Hannah sat across from me, picked up the second spoon, and scooped up a bite.

“I knew it.”

“I’m only having a taste.”

I sat, but instead of reaching for my spoon, I watched her take another bite.

The ring felt like it was burning a hole through my pocket. My heart pounded hard enough that I was surprised she couldn’t hear it across the table.

“You’re not eating,” she said.

“I’m not as hungry as I thought.”

She slowly lowered her spoon. “Jack, what’s going on?”

I pushed away from the table and stood. “I had this whole thing planned.”

Her gaze followed me as I moved around the table. I crouched in front of her and took her hand.

“Everyone is waiting at the restaurant. Your dad and Melanie flew in with Jacob. Mrs. Button is there. So is my father.”

Her eyes widened with each name. “Wait—your father came to Florida?”

“Yeah.”

Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

“I talked to your father months ago. He made me sweat for a while, but eventually he gave me his blessing.”

“Jack.”

“I booked a private room. There are flowers and champagne. Sabrina helped me get everyone there without you finding out.”

She continued staring at me, her eyes shining behind her glasses. I lost my train of thought and let my gaze drift over her.

“And you look fucking amazing, by the way.”

Hannah looked down at herself and then back at me.

“You planned a proposal.”

I nodded. “A fancy one.”

“But we’re here.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I couldn’t wait. And the closer we got to the restaurant, the more I realized the plan didn’t feel right anymore.” I tightened my hold on her hand. “I don’t want everyone watching when I ask you. This moment should belong to us.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. I reached out and brushed it away with my thumb.

“The last time I did this, I was wearing a dirty uniform and kneeling in the middle of an airport with half the terminal recording us. I wanted to do it right this time.”

“You didn’t exactly propose that day.”

“I said I wanted to spend the rest of my life making things up to you.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“I was getting there.”

A soft laugh slipped out of her.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the velvet box.

Her gaze dropped to it.

“I had a speech prepared too, but apparently I’m no better at waiting to do this than I was at waiting to tell you I loved you.”

I shifted onto one knee.

Hannah covered her mouth with both hands but didn’t look away from me.

“This is where I realized you were jealous.”

“I was not jealous.”

“You thought I hooked up with that woman in the parking lot.”

“That wasn’t jealousy. I was concerned about the potential public-relations fallout.”

“Bullshit.”

She laughed, easing some of the tightness in my chest.

“That night, I started wondering what it would be like to have someone waiting for me when I came home from a road trip. Someone who actually cared about me and not what being with me could do for her.”

I ran my thumb over Hannah’s knuckles.

“I didn’t know it then, but I was already imagining a life with you before I’d even admitted I wanted you.”

Her fingers tightened around mine.

“For a long time, I thought keeping my life under control meant keeping everyone at a distance. Then you came along and showed me how wrong I was.” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “I don’t just want you waiting for me when I come home, Hannah. I want wherever you are to be home.”

I opened the box.

“I meant what I said at the airport. I want the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

She was nodding before I finished the question.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

She laughed through her tears. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

I blinked, sending tears down my cheeks. My hands shook as I removed the ring from its box and slid it onto her finger.

For six months, I’d imagined this moment. I’d pictured the restaurant, the champagne, and everyone we love watching as I placed the ring on her hand.

Instead, the concrete dug into my knee while our banana split melted on the table behind me.

And it’s perfect.

I stood and pulled Hannah into my arms. Hers wrapped around my neck, and I lifted her off her feet as I kissed her.

She laughed against my mouth.

When I lowered her to the ground, she kept her arms around my neck.

“My father flew across the country to watch you propose.”

“Technically, he still gets to see the ring.”

“Mrs. Button is going to be furious.”

“She’ll have to get in line behind Sabrina.”

“And your dad came.”

“He did.”

She cupped my face and kissed me softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

“Should you answer that?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Dan knows me well enough to figure out I went rogue.”

“Sabrina is definitely going to kill you.”

“Probably.”

We shared what was left of the banana split while Hannah admired her ring from every possible angle. By the time we reached the restaurant, we were almost forty minutes late.

I barely got the door to the private room open before Sabrina smacked me on the arm.

“You couldn’t wait another half hour?”

“No.”

“I spent weeks planning this.”

“And you did a great job.”

She stared at me for a moment before spotting Hannah’s ring and squealing.

That set everyone else off.

Hannah was swallowed by hugs and congratulations while I shook hands with her father and accepted a slap on the back from Dan. My father stood slightly apart from the crowd, so I walked over and pulled him into a hug.

“Thanks for coming.”

He patted my back. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

My throat tightened. I released him before either of us could make a scene and turned to find Hannah watching us.

She smiled.

Aaran raised his glass, but before he could make a toast, Mrs. Button pushed through the crowd.

“Let me see it.”

Hannah obediently held out her hand.

Mrs. Button examined the ring, turning Hannah’s wrist one way and then the other. Apparently satisfied, she looked at me.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said.

“I had to make sure she’d say yes.”

“I could have told you that months ago.” She patted my cheek, then looked at Hannah. “I suppose he isn’t a complete waste of handsome after all.”

Hannah came to my side and slipped her arm around my waist.

“Not even close.”

Aaran finally got to make his toast once everyone stopped laughing over Mrs. Button’s comment.

He raised his glass and looked at Jack. “The first time I saw the two of ya together, I knew this was something special. And every time I’ve seen ya since, you’ve proven me right.” He turned toward Hannah. “I love ya, baby girl. I’m happy you found someone worthy of ya.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

Hannah wiped beneath her glasses before leaning over to kiss Jack. Everyone cheered again, and I lifted my beer along with the rest of the room.

“I still can’t believe Reagan’s getting married,” Monte said from beside me.

“Neither can I.”

Across the room, Jack had one arm wrapped around Hannah while she showed her ring to Lexi.

Good for him.

Seriously.

“Guess that leaves you and me,” Monte said.

“Don’t lump me in with you. I’ve been married.”

“And now you’re not.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“Anytime.”

My marriage had lasted almost six years, and until the day Marsha asked for a divorce, I’d thought we were doing okay. Looking back, I could see how different we were, but at the time, I would have stayed with her for the rest of my life.

I’d known what it felt like to truly fit with someone once, a long time ago. I’d just been too young and too focused on baseball to understand how rare it was.

“Come on,” Monte said. “Let’s get another round.”

“I’m good for now.”

He headed toward the bar while I rolled my shoulder, trying to ease the tightness running along the side of my neck.

“Are you okay?”

I looked up and found Sabrina watching me.

“I’m fine.”

She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow.

“I am,” I insisted. “It’s just a little stiff.”

“Any pain?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“I know.”

She continued staring at me.

The woman had spent most of the off season putting me through physical therapy hell. She could probably tell exactly how my neck felt by the way I was standing.

“The injection helped,” I said.

“But?”

“It’s starting to wear off.”

I tried to sound casual, but the stiffness had been creeping back for days. I’d been blaming it on not being back in game shape yet. I wasn’t ready for anyone to tell me it was something more.

Her expression tightened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did.”

“Only because I asked. I’ll take a look at you tomorrow, and then we’ll talk to the team doctor.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“I’m serious, Cal.”

“So am I.”

She studied me for another few seconds before finally nodding. “Good.”

Dan approached and handed her a glass of wine.

“Are you harassing our third baseman?” he asked.

“I’m making sure your third baseman doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Hey, I’m standing right here.”

Dan clapped me on the shoulder. Unfortunately, it was the wrong one, and pain shot from the base of my neck to my elbow.

I tried not to react, but Sabrina’s narrowed eyes told me she noticed.

“Tomorrow morning,” she said.

“I’ll be there.”

She held my gaze for another second before moving toward Lexi with Dan. Lexi was begging to hold Jacob, and Melanie carefully placed the baby in her arms while Dan hovered close enough to catch him if necessary. Sabrina slipped her arm around his waist, and he pulled her against his side.

Jack stood behind Hannah with his arms wrapped around her while Mrs. Button inspected the ring for what had to be the tenth time.

When I first made it to the majors, I pictured playing as long as my body allowed, then retiring to a house filled with a wife and kids. I never doubted it would happen. I figured I’d take care of the baseball part first and everything else would fall into place.

Apparently, life didn’t work that way.

Baseball had always been the one thing I could count on. Now I wasn’t sure how much longer that would be true.

I looked around the room at my friends and their families.

At the lives they’d built outside baseball.

I wanted what they had.

A wife. Kids. A family of my own.

I’d never had a Plan B.

Maybe Plan A just needed a second chance.

The sound of the front door opening echoed through the empty building.

“Cal?”

“In here.”

Barbara’s heels clicked against the polished concrete as she followed my voice. I stood in the middle of the main training area, staring up at the Next Step Baseball Academy logo painted across the far wall.

We’d spent months looking at versions of it on computer screens, signs, and shirts, but seeing it there was different.

Barbara appeared in the doorway, and her gaze traveled around the finished space before settling on me.

“Wow.”

“I was about to say the same thing.”

She shook her head, but the corners of her mouth lifted. “Smooth.”

“Just being honest.”

“I can’t believe it’s finally finished,” she said, looking around again.

“Neither can I.”

I met her in the middle of the room, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her in for a kiss.

“How was work?”

“Not nearly as exciting as your day, judging by the look on your face.”

“I can’t wait to show you everything.”

“I’ve already seen most of it.”

“Not since it was finished.”

“Then I guess you’d better give me the official tour.”

She’d visited plenty of times over the past few months, but the last of the equipment had been installed yesterday, the signs went up this morning, and the cleaning crew had finished a few hours ago.

For the first time, it looked like the place we’d talked about instead of a never-ending construction project.

“Come on.”

I took her hand and led her through the batting cages, pointing out the cameras and pitching machines that had been installed since her last visit.

“Everything’s up and running now.”

“This is amazing, Cal.”

I showed her the pitching lab next, then the weight room and physical therapy area. Sabrina had personally approved every piece of equipment in the room, so Dan and I knew everything was top-notch.

Barbara stopped in front of a wall covered with framed photographs of Dan and me throughout our careers.

“They did a great job with this,” she said.

“Wait until you see the picture they put in the lobby.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Which one?”

“The swimsuit issue.”

Her mouth dropped open.

I managed to keep a straight face for about three seconds.

“Cal.”

“I’m kidding.”

“You better be.”

“That one’s in my office.”

She slapped my chest, and I caught her hand before she could pull it away.

“I’m still kidding.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I think so.”

I kissed her knuckles, then kept hold of her hand as we continued down the hall.

Until Dan asked me to be his partner, I’d had no idea this was what he planned to do when he retired.

For a while, I’d thought baseball had ended when I stopped playing. I’d hoped working at the bank would keep my mind off everything I’d lost, but it hadn’t. Every day I sat behind that desk, I felt like I’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and couldn’t figure out how to get back where I belonged.

Tomorrow morning, kids would walk through those doors for the first time, and I couldn’t wait to start teaching them everything I knew about the game.

I opened the door at the end of the hallway and stood aside.

“And this is my office.”

Barbara stepped inside and slowly looked around. My desk sat in front of a wall of windows overlooking the training area. Built-in shelves held some of my awards, baseballs, and other things I’d collected during my career.

Her attention landed on the wall behind the desk.

“You hung it.”

One of the collage frames she’d given me rested between two framed jerseys. Pictures from college surrounded a newer one of us taken shortly after we got engaged.

“Of course I did.”

She walked closer and touched the edge of the frame.

“I thought we were putting both of them at home.”

“The other one is at home. This one belongs here.”

She turned toward me. “Why?”

“Because I want it where I can see it every day.”

“You see me every day.”

“Not enough.” I wrapped my arms around her waist. “I really think we got this right, Barb. I get to be involved in the game, help kids, and sleep in my own bed every night.”

“With me.”

“That’s the best part.”

She rested her hands against my chest. “You look happy.”

“I am.”

More than happy. I hadn’t been this excited about what came next since the day I got called up to the majors.

“You know you’ve been smiling since I walked in,” she said.

“I always smile.”

“Not like this.”

“Get used to it.”

She pushed up on her toes and kissed me. “I’m proud of you.”

“We haven’t opened yet.”

“I’m still proud of you.”

I tightened my arms around her and lifted her off her feet. She laughed and wrapped her arms around my neck.

I set her down but kept her pressed against me.

“Now are you ready for dinner?” she asked.

“Almost.”

“Cal.”

“I need to show you the conference room.”

“You showed me the conference room two weeks ago.”

“It has a table and chairs now.”

She stared at me for a moment, then shook her head and laughed.

“Lead the way.”

We walked out of my office and turned toward the conference room.

For the first time since I’d walked off a major-league field, I didn’t feel like something was missing.

I had baseball. I had Barb.

And this time, I wasn’t giving up either one.

Karen Walsh stood less than twenty feet away, and I was doing a damn good job pretending I hadn’t noticed her.

It wasn’t easy.

She wore jeans and a Waves T-shirt, her pale-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Nothing fancy, but she still stood out in a crowd of several hundred people.

At least to me.

I shifted my attention back to the young fan standing on the other side of the autograph table and handed him the baseball I’d signed.

“Thanks, Mr. Montgomery.”

“You’re welcome.”

His father took a picture of us, then thanked me before they moved away and another family stepped forward.

We’d been signing autographs and taking pictures for almost an hour. The annual spring-training meet-and-greet was always packed, but Hannah kept everything moving. She walked through the crowd with her tablet, answering questions and directing volunteers without ever looking frazzled.

Jack stood at the table beside mine, holding a baby while the parents took a picture. The little girl had grabbed a fistful of his hair, but he kept smiling as though she wasn’t trying to pull it out by the roots.

A few years ago, I would have given him endless shit about how natural he looked holding a baby.

Now I wasn’t sure I found it funny.

The family moved on, and Jack carefully returned the baby to her mother. As soon as they walked away, he rubbed the side of his head.

“That kid has a strong grip.”

“You’ve been plunked by hundred-mile-an-hour fastballs. I think you’ll survive.”

“Barely.”

His attention shifted over my shoulder before returning to me.

“You gonna talk to her?”

I knew who he meant. That didn’t mean I wanted to discuss her with him.

Karen had turned me down every time I’d asked her out. She was always nice about it, which somehow made it worse. If she’d been rude or acted like she was too good for me, I could have written her off and moved on.

Instead, she looked at me like she was tempted to say yes before giving me another reason she couldn’t.

After the last time, I’d finally accepted that couldn’t might be her way of saying she didn’t want to.

“I’ve talked to her plenty,” I said.

“Then talk to her again.”

“No.”

Jack studied me for a few seconds. “No?”

“She gave me her answer. Multiple times. I’m respecting it.”

“I said talk to her, not ask her out.”

“And say what?”

He shrugged. “You could start with hello.”

Before I could respond, Hannah stopped beside our table.

“I just closed the line. Once you finish with everyone already waiting, you’re done.”

Jack caught her hand as she turned to leave. She looked down at him with a smile, leaned in for a quick kiss, then continued to the next table.

The next twenty minutes passed in a blur of autographs, pictures, and questions about the upcoming season.

After the final family walked away, I capped my marker and stood.

Jack nodded toward the batting cages. “Now you can go say hello.”

“I’m going to check out Jeremy’s swing.”

“Of course you are.”

I ignored him and made my way through the crowd, stopping a few times to talk to fans. Karen stood near the batting cages watching Jeremy take a few swings. I’d met him through Jack and had talked baseball with him whenever he and Karen came to a game. He was a great kid and soaked up every bit of advice we gave him.

Jeremy sent a line drive into the net and looked toward his mother.

“Did you see that?”

“I did,” she called back.

He returned the ball to the volunteer and spotted me as he stepped out of the cage.

“Hey, Monte.”

“Hey.” I shifted my gaze to Karen. “Hi, Karen.”

“Hi, Dale.”

I looked back at Jeremy. “Nice swing.”

“Thanks.” He glanced toward the cage. “I’ve been working on keeping my front shoulder in.”

“It shows.”

His face lit up at the compliment.

“He’s been practicing every chance he gets,” Karen said, looking at Jeremy with obvious pride. Then she turned back to me. “How have you been?”

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

Great conversation.

Her gaze moved toward the tables where we’d been signing.

“You guys always do such a nice job with these events. Jeremy talks about them for weeks.”

“We enjoy them.”

“I’m sure it gets exhausting.”

“Sometimes. But seeing how excited the kids are makes it worth it.”

“Not just the kids.”

I followed Karen’s gaze to a man in a Waves jersey who had cornered Dan and seemed to be enthusiastically reenacting one of his catches from last season.

We both chuckled. When she looked back at me, her smile lingered.

Normally, this was where I’d ask if she wanted to get dinner. Or coffee. Or anything that would give me the chance to spend time with her away from a baseball field.

This time, I kept my mouth shut.

Her brow furrowed slightly, as though she was waiting for me to say something else.

I glanced toward the concession area. “I was on my way to get some water.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“It was good seeing you.”

“You too.”

I walked away before I said something stupid.

At the concession stand, I pulled a bottle from a tub of ice and dropped a few dollars in the tip jar. I twisted off the cap and drank half of it without stopping, then looked back toward the cages.

Karen was watching me.

Our eyes met, and something tightened in the center of my chest.

For most of my career, moving on had been easy. There was always another city, another woman, another distraction waiting for me.

Then I met Karen, and none of them interested me anymore.

I’d finally learned how to take no for an answer.

Now I just had to figure out how to stop hoping she’d change it.

The front door closed behind Jack and Hannah, leaving the house quiet for the first time all day.

Well, almost quiet.

Something thudded upstairs, followed by Jeremy yelling, “I’m okay.”

Karen looked toward the ceiling.

“He’s fine,” I said.

“You don’t know that.”

“He said he’s okay.”

“He also said he didn’t need help carrying his television upstairs.”

“The movers carried it upstairs.”

“That’s not the point.”

I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her against my side. “He’s a thirteen-year-old boy. Random crashes are in his DNA.”

“I don’t have to like it.”

She settled against me. I kissed the top of her head and looked around the living room.

Our friends had started showing up as the movers carried the last few boxes inside. Sabrina and Barbara unpacked most of the kitchen while Hannah attempted to bring order to the mountain of boxes in the living room. Jack, Dan, and Cal spent more time giving conflicting opinions than doing anything useful, but they’d brought enough food to feed everyone, so I let it slide.

Now they were gone, the leftover food was in the refrigerator, and we were surrounded by everything Karen and Jeremy had brought from Clearwater.

The house they’d shared with Jason had sold faster than Karen expected. Since mine was already furnished, she’d sold or donated most of the larger pieces. We brought Jeremy’s bedroom furniture, a few of her favorites, and everything that mattered to them.

It was a lot of stuff.

And I loved seeing every bit of it in my house.

Our house.

Still tucked against me, Karen looked around the room. Boxes covered most of the floor, and framed pictures leaned against the wall beneath the windows. The armchair she’d refused to leave behind sat near the sliding doors overlooking the ocean.

“This is going to take forever,” she said.

“We don’t have to finish tonight.”

“I know.”

“Or tomorrow.”

She tipped her head back to look at me. “If I leave it up to you, we’ll still have boxes sitting here when spring training starts.”

“Probably.”

She laughed, and I leaned down to kiss her.

We’d waited until after the season for them to move to Myrtle Beach, which gave Karen time to sell the house and arrange Jeremy’s transfer to his new school.

And now they were finally here.

For good.

I wouldn’t have to count the days until our schedules lined up or squeeze an entire relationship into the few nights we could spend together in Tampa or Myrtle Beach.

“Come on,” Karen said. “Let’s unpack one more box.”

“One?”

“Maybe two.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

She walked toward a box marked LIVING ROOM and lowered herself to the floor beside it. I sat across from her and pulled open the cardboard flaps.

The first few things were books and decorative pieces I remembered seeing around her house. I handed them to her one at a time, and she decided which ones she wanted to put out and which could wait.

Near the bottom, I found several framed photographs wrapped in newspaper.

I removed the paper from the first one and found a picture of Karen, Jeremy, and Jason. Jeremy looked about five and sat on his father’s shoulders while Karen stood beside them with her arm wrapped around Jason’s waist.

Karen went still when she saw it.

“I’m not sure what to do with those,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I’d let Jeremy pick one for his room and put the rest in storage.”

“Why don’t you pick out a few of your favorites too?”

Her gaze lifted to mine. “To put where?”

“Anywhere you want. This is your home now, Karen.” I looked down at the photograph then back at her. “Jason is part of your family. I’m not asking either of you to pretend he wasn’t.”

Her eyes filled, and she blinked rapidly.

“I didn’t think you were.”

“But you thought having his pictures out might bother me.”

“I didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t.”

She looked at the photograph again and ran her finger along the edge of the frame.

“I loved him,” she said quietly.

“I know.”

“I love you too.”

“I know that too.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and I reached over to wipe it away.

“Come here.”

She moved onto her knees and leaned across the box. I caught her around the waist and pulled her onto my lap.

“I don’t want you or Jeremy to feel like you have to pack away part of your lives to make room for me,” I said. “That’s not how this works.”

“How does it work?”

“We figure it out as we go.”

“That’s your plan?”

“It’s worked pretty well so far.”

She smiled and rested her forehead against mine.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Jeremy appeared in the living room.

“Monte, do you have—” He stopped when he saw us sitting on the floor. “Never mind.”

Karen laughed and shifted off my lap.

“What do you need?” she asked.

“Monte, can you help me hang the shelves for my baseballs?”

“Sure. But first, your mom said you could choose some pictures for your room.”

I reached for the next frame and held it out to him.

Jeremy unwrapped it. His expression softened when he saw a picture of himself and Jason standing beside a lake, each holding a fishing pole.

“Can I have this one?”

“Of course,” Karen said.

He looked through the others and selected another of the three of them at a baseball game.

“I’ll take these two.”

“I’ll be up in a minute to help with the shelves,” I said.

“Okay.”

He carried the pictures upstairs.

Karen watched him go, then turned back to me.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

She leaned over and kissed me before reaching into the box again. This time, she pulled out a newer photograph of the three of us taken at a Waves game late in the season.

“I like this one,” I said.

“So do I.”

I stood and carried both photographs to the fireplace. The picture of Karen, Jason, and Jeremy went on one end of the mantel. I placed the newer one beside it.

Karen came to stand next to me and slipped her arm around my waist.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I think we’re going to need a bigger mantel.”

Another crash came from upstairs.

“I’m okay,” Jeremy yelled.

Karen closed her eyes and shook her head.

“I’ll get the screwdriver.”

“And make sure he didn’t knock a hole in the wall.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I kissed her quickly before heading toward the stairs.

Boxes filled the living room. Karen’s chair partially blocked the view of the ocean, and Jeremy’s voice echoed through a house that had always been too quiet.

It was a mess.

It was perfect.

I let myself into my hotel room and dropped my bag beside the door.

The spacious suite had been home since I’d been traded to Fayetteville. It was comfortable, expensive, and within walking distance of the stadium.

It still didn’t feel like home.

Then again, nowhere ever had.

I pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator and lowered myself onto the couch. My arm felt heavy after throwing nearly a hundred pitches, but it was the good kind of heavy. The kind that came after eight scoreless innings instead of five spent fighting my control and pretending nothing was wrong.

Two hits. One walk. Nine strikeouts.

My best outing since being sent down from New York.

I took a long drink, then rested my head against the back of the couch and closed my eyes.

For the first time in months, I’d felt like myself on the mound.

Actually, that wasn’t true.

I’d felt better than myself.

The old me would’ve lost his shit when the umpire called a borderline pitch a ball in the third inning. Tonight, I’d walked off the mound, taken a breath, and thrown the next pitch exactly where I wanted it.

Dr. Fisher would be proud.

My phone rang from inside my bag. I considered ignoring it, but there were only a handful of people whose calls made it through when my phone was set to Do Not Disturb.

I reached down, pulled it out, and smiled when I saw the name on the screen.

“Nice game tonight,” I said.

“You too. Although I didn’t strike out nine.”

“Not everyone can be me.”

Leo had been my catcher and roommate in college. Now he caught for the Carolina Waves and was one of the few people I’d call a friend.

Probably because he was one of the few people who’d stuck around after I gave him plenty of reasons not to.

“You checking up on me?” I asked.

“Just keeping up to date,” he said. “I saw the box score, then caught the highlights.”

“Of course you did.”

“Eight scoreless innings.”

“And nine strikeouts.”

“I saw those too.”

“I figured you might’ve missed them.”

“You’ve always been humble.”

“One of my best qualities.”

He laughed. “Seriously, you looked good.”

Leo knew my game better than almost anyone. He’d caught me for two years in college and could usually tell what was wrong with me before I could.

“You’ve been dropping your elbow lately,” he said. “You didn’t tonight.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t argue that call in the third.”

“That fastball painted the outside corner.”

“Yeah, but when you didn’t get the call, you kept your mouth shut.”

“I’m trying something new.”

“How’s that working out?”

“I didn’t get thrown out of the game, so I’d call it a success.”

There was a brief silence before he spoke again.

“How are you really doing?”

“Better.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t a lie. I was doing better.

My game had been slipping for a few years, but when it fell apart completely last year, I’d blamed everyone but myself. Coaches. Teammates. Reporters. My family.

Some of them deserved it.

Most didn’t.

Getting sent down to Triple-A should’ve been the wake-up call I needed. Instead, I got angrier and acted like an entitled asshole. I drove too fast, collected speeding tickets, and assumed my father would make them disappear the way he always did.

He didn’t.

By the time I stood in front of a judge, I’d managed to convince myself I was the victim. My attitude earned me a six-month license suspension and a speech about actions having consequences.

At the time, I thought the judge was a prick.

Now I paid Dr. Fisher a ridiculous amount of money every week to help me understand he’d been right.

“I’m still seeing the therapist,” I said.

“That’s good.”

“He thinks I’m making progress.”

“What do you think?”

“I think I threw eight scoreless innings tonight.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“It’s the answer you’re getting.”

“Fair enough.”

I took another drink of water and stretched my legs out in front of me.

Leo didn’t push. That was another reason we were still friends. He called me on my shit, but he knew when to back off.

Most of the time.

“How are things with the Waves?” I asked.

“Good. We could use another reliable arm, but we’re making do.” He paused. “Are you still being chauffeured to the stadium?”

“I use ride shares. There’s a difference.”

“You could hire a driver.”

“I could.”

“But you haven’t.”

“Dr. Fisher says using money to avoid the consequences of my actions defeats the purpose.”

“And what do you think?”

“Walking everywhere else in this heat sucks.”

Leo laughed. “But you’re doing it.”

“Most of the time.”

Leo was quiet for a moment. “I’m proud of you.”

The words caught me off guard.

Praise had always been complicated in my family. It usually came with expectations attached or disappeared the second I failed to live up to them.

With Leo, it was just praise.

“Thanks,” I said.

“You keep pitching like that, you’ll be back in the majors before you know it.”

I wanted to believe him.

A year ago, I would’ve said I belonged there and everyone involved in sending me down was an idiot. Now I knew talent wasn’t the only thing that mattered.

I’d already proven I could pitch in the majors. I still had to prove I could handle everything that came with it.

“That’s the plan.”

“Good. I’d like to catch you again before we’re both too old to squat without making noise.”

“You already make noise.”

“Fuck you.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

I smiled. “Thanks for calling.”

“Anytime.”

The call ended, and I set my phone on the table beside me.

I should shower. Eat something. Ice my arm.

Instead, I sat there for another minute and let myself enjoy what had happened tonight.

Tomorrow, I’d go back to work.

***

The next night, I watched the final two innings from the dugout railing.

Fayetteville won by one run, and I joined the rest of the team on the field for the usual handshakes before heading into the clubhouse.

I’d barely reached my locker when the pitching coach approached.

“Skip wants to see you in his office.”

Those words rarely led to anything good.

I changed direction and walked toward the office. The door stood open, but I knocked anyway.

“Come in,” the manager said.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

He gestured toward the chair across from his desk. “Have a seat.”

I remained standing, too keyed up to sit.

His expression gave nothing away as he leaned back.

“You threw a hell of a game last night.”

“Thank you.”

“The organization has been happy with the progress you’ve made.”

That was either promising or the beginning of a speech before they traded me again.

“Myrtle Beach called a few minutes ago. They want you.”

For a second, I couldn’t speak.

I’d imagined this moment every day since being sent down. In most of those fantasies, I’d said something smug and acted like the organization had finally come to its senses.

Now the only thing I felt was relief.

And something dangerously close to gratitude.

“When do I report?”

“They want you there tomorrow. Talk to the front office about transportation.”

“I will.”

He nodded. “Congratulations, Trey.”

“Thank you.”

I left his office and walked back to my locker. The clubhouse was loud around me, but I barely heard any of it.

I was going back to the majors.

Not to New York. Not to the life I’d had before.

But maybe that was a good thing.

I pulled out my phone.

Looks like you’ll be catching me again.

The three dots appeared almost immediately.

Are you serious?

I smiled as I typed my response.

Yep. I’m heading to Myrtle Beach.

I’d faced hitters with the bases loaded and no outs without breaking a sweat.

Now my palms were damp, my heart was racing, and Nori wasn’t even here yet.

I checked the time on my phone, even though I’d looked less than a minute ago. She wasn’t late. I’d told her to come over at seven, and it was only six fifty-eight.

The framed drawing she’d given me rested facedown on the kitchen table. The ring was in my pocket, and dinner was staying warm in the oven.

Everything was ready.

I wasn’t.

Headlights swept across the front windows, and my stomach tightened.

This was ridiculous. Nori loved me. We’d talked about our future. She spent more nights here than she did at her own house and had started leaving clothes in my closet and cinnamon-scented shit in my bathroom.

None of that guaranteed she wanted to marry me.

The lock turned, and the front door opened.

“It’s me.”

Nori came into the kitchen wearing jeans and a sweater, her hair pulled into a messy knot. Beautiful, as always.

“Hi.” I walked over and kissed her.

“Hi.” She narrowed her eyes as she studied me. “Why are you dressed like that?”

I looked down at my dark pants and button-down shirt. “Like what?”

“Like we’re going somewhere.”

“We’re not.”

“Was I supposed to dress up?”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed further. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird.”

“You definitely are.”

She set her purse on the counter and looked toward the living room. Her gaze went directly to the empty space on the wall.

“Where’s my picture?”

“In the kitchen.”

She spotted the frame on the table. “Why is it facedown?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“And you’re avoiding all of them.”

“I need you to look at something.”

Her expression shifted from suspicious to concerned. “Did something happen to it?”

“No.”

“Did you decide you don’t like it?”

“Nori.”

I took her hand and led her toward the table.

The season had ended three days ago, and I’d spent most of that time making plans for tonight. Crispin had helped me choose the ring and then threatened me with bodily harm if I hurt her.

Leo had been less dramatic, but not by much.

Neither of them knew exactly when I planned to propose. As much as they’d become part of my family, I wanted this moment to belong to Nori and me.

I picked up the frame and held it out to her.

She lifted the cardboard backing and reread the words she’d written weeks ago. Her expression softened as she got to I love you.

Then her gaze moved lower.

Beneath her note, I’d added one of my own.

Nori,

You were right. This house is special, but you’re the reason it feels like home.
Marry me and make it ours.

Trey

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

While she was still staring at the frame, I lowered myself onto one knee and pulled the ring from my pocket.

When she noticed me kneeling in front of her, she froze.

For once, Nori didn’t have a question.

“Nori Somers, I love you.” My heart pounded, but I managed to keep my voice steady. “Before I met you, I thought buying this house meant I had my life together. Then you came along and made me realize I didn’t have a clue what that meant.”

Her eyes filled.

“You make me want to be better. Not because you expect me to be someone else, but because you’re the first person who’s ever made me feel like who I am is enough.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“I spent most of my life believing I didn’t need anyone,” I continued. “Now I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it.” I drew in a breath. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

The word came out before I’d completely finished the question.

My shoulders dropped as I released the breath I’d been holding.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

She set the frame on the table and dropped to her knees in front of me. I barely had time to move the ring out of the way before she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

I caught her around the waist and held on.

“You scared the hell out of me,” I said.

“Why?”

“You kept asking questions.”

“I always ask questions.”

“I know.”

She kissed me again before leaning back. “You haven’t given me the ring.”

“You tackled me before I had the chance.”

“I did not tackle you.”

“You came pretty close.”

I took her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger. She turned her hand slightly, and the salt-and-pepper diamond caught the light. When she didn’t say anything, my stomach tightened all over again.

“Do you like it?”

Her gaze lifted to mine. “It’s perfect.”

“Crispin helped.”

“Of course he did.”

“He also threatened me.”

“That sounds like Crispin.”

“He said if I ever hurt you, no amount of money would keep him from destroying me.”

Her eyes filled again. “That also sounds like Crispin.”

“He’s expecting a call.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“And Leo told me to let him know what you said.”

“Who else knows?”

“Just them.”

“For now.”

“For the next five minutes. After that, Crispin will probably tell everyone he’s ever met.”

She looked down at her ring again. “Then we have five minutes.”

I stood and pulled her up with me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I settled my hands on her waist.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“That I’m the only woman on your list.”

“You remembered that?”

“I remember everything.”

“That’s a little terrifying.”

“It should be.”

I kissed her, then rested my forehead against hers.

Her gaze shifted toward the frame on the table.

“You seemed pretty sure I’d say yes.”

“I was hopeful.”

“You wrote marry me on the back of my artwork.”

“Technically, I wrote it on the cardboard protecting your artwork.”

“Good distinction.”

“I thought so.”

She smiled. “What would you have done if I said no?”

“Replaced the cardboard and pretended none of this happened.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And engaged.”

Her smile widened, and she rose onto her toes to kiss me.

For most of my life, home had been nothing more than a place to live. This house had started feeling different almost as soon as Nori walked into it.

Now, with her ring on her finger and her arms wrapped around me, I finally understood why.

The engraving on the front of the frame said Youngman Est. 2021.

I’d thought it represented the year I bought a house.

Instead, it would always be the year we became a family.

The front door opened before I could get my key into the lock.

“You’re late,” Angie said.

“I told you I’d be here around four.”

“It’s four twenty-three.”

“I drove from Myrtle Beach. Traffic happens.”

My youngest sister stepped aside, and I carried the box in my arms over the threshold. “Are you going to help, or are you just here to criticize?”

“I spent half the summer overseeing renovations on this place. I’ve helped enough.”

“You picked paint colors and told other people what to do.”

“Exactly. I used my strengths.”

I walked into the living room and set the box on the hardwood floor.

The last time I’d been here, the walls were covered in primer and half the furniture was still wrapped in plastic. Now everything was finished. The room looked comfortable without being too formal, which was exactly what I’d wanted.

Or what Angie had told me I wanted.

The dark blue accent wall in the living room wouldn’t have been my first choice, but it looked good with the brown leather furniture and lighter wood floors. Framed photographs covered one wall, including more pictures of my family than any thirty-two-year-old man needed displayed in his house.

“Did you have to use the one from Marina’s wedding?” I asked.

Angie followed my gaze to the picture of our family. Everyone else looked normal. I’d been caught mid-sneeze.

“It’s one of my favorites.”

“Of course it is.”

“I can change it if you want.”

“You’ll replace it with something worse.”

“You know me so well.”

“The place looks great.” I glanced around again. “Thank you.”

Her face lit up. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“Even the blue?”

“Even the blue.”

“I told you to trust me.”

“I did trust you. That’s why I gave you access to my bank account and let you make all the decisions.”

“You gave me access to one account with a spending limit.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around my waist. I kissed the top of her head before she released me.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

“Me too.”

“Mom isn’t.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“She thinks you should spend the offseason at home.”

I shook my head. “I’m only a couple of hours away.”

“According to Mom, you may as well have moved across the country.”

“She manages to survive during the baseball season.”

“She complains about that too. You just aren’t around to hear it.”

“I hear it plenty.”

“She also said you already have a house in Jersey.”

“The one you live in?”

“That’s the one.”

Angie walked toward the kitchen while I went outside for another box. The furniture and most of the household items had already been delivered, but my SUV was still packed with clothes and personal things I’d brought from Myrtle Beach.

When I returned, Angie was leaning against the kitchen island eating a cookie.

“Where did you get that?”

“I brought them.”

“Any left for me?”

“There are a few in the container.”

I set the box beside the others and opened the lid. “A few” turned out to be two.

“You ate all of these today?”

“I shared with the delivery guys.” She broke off a piece of her cookie and popped it into her mouth. “For the record, your decision to stay here works out well for me.”

“Because you want me to be happy?”

“Because now I have the other house to myself.”

“You’ve had it to yourself most of the year anyway.”

“Exactly. We’ve developed a routine. It would be disruptive to have you living there for five months.”

“In my house.”

“You keep focusing on that.”

“It seems relevant.”

“You said you didn’t mind me staying there.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one. But if I come home and find out you changed the locks, we’re going to have an issue.”

“I’d never do that.”

Her innocent expression didn’t fool me.

“You already changed the code to the garage.”

“I gave you the new one.”

“Three days later.”

“I forgot.”

“Sure you did.” She smiled and took another bite of her cookie, then nodded toward the basement door. “Ready to see your project?”

I opened the door and followed her downstairs. The basement was finished but completely empty. White walls. Light gray flooring. Nothing that made the space feel like mine yet.

Angie stopped beside me and looked around. “I could help you with this too.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to suggest.”

“It doesn’t matter. The basement is my project.”

“You let me do the rest of the house.”

“Which is why I want one room that looks like I live here.”

“You do know I decorated the house for you, right?”

“It looks great, but I need somewhere I can hang things without asking if they fit your aesthetic.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What things?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You’re going to cover the walls with baseball memorabilia, aren’t you?”

“It’s a possibility.”

She groaned. “At least let Nori paint a mural down here.”

“That’s actually a good idea.”

“Obviously.”

I turned toward the stairs, and a dull ache spread across my lower back. I stopped and pressed my palm against it.

Angie noticed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You made a face.”

“I did not.”

“You did. Is it your back?”

“It’s been bothering me off and on all season.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“The team trainer knows. He’s the one who suggested yoga.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re going to do yoga?”

“I talked to Clay. He’s going to work with me privately.”

“That’s probably a good idea. Your flexibility is terrible.”

“How would you know?”

“I’ve seen you try to touch your toes.”

“When?”

“I don’t remember, but it wasn’t pretty.”

“I’m a catcher. If I wasn’t flexible, I wouldn’t have lasted this long.”

“Then yoga should be easy.”

Something about her tone told me she didn’t believe that.

“I didn’t say it would be easy.”

“I’d pay money to watch you attempt it.”

“That’s why the sessions are private.”

She pulled out her phone. “I should text Clay and ask him to record you.”

“If you do, you’ll be looking for somewhere else to live.”

“You’d never throw me out.”

She was right, but I wasn’t going to admit it.

My phone buzzed before she could contact Clay. I pulled it from my pocket and saw his name on the screen.

“Speak of the devil.”

I can fit you in Sunday at six if that works.

I’ll be there.

I looked back up at Angie.

“My first session is Sunday.”

“Wear something tight so he can check your form.”

I rolled my eyes and headed upstairs.

“I’m just trying to help,” she said, following me into the kitchen.

“Your help isn’t needed.”

“That’s never stopped me before.”

She settled at the island and pulled out her phone.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“I don’t care.”

“That’s not helpful.”

My phone buzzed, and Mom’s picture appeared on the screen.

“Just order whatever.”

Angie glanced at my phone. “Good luck.”

I accepted the call and put it on speaker.

“Hi, Ma.”

“Leonidas, you made it?”

“I’m here.”

“And the house is good?”

I looked around the finished kitchen. “It’s great. Angie did an amazing job.”

She beamed at the compliment.

“You should bring your things home,” Mom said.

“I am home.”

Angie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

“You know what I mean.”

“Scranton isn’t across the country, Ma. I’m only two hours away.”

“That’s two hours farther than you need to be. Are you coming for Sunday dinner?”

“I’ll come out Saturday and stay overnight, but I’ll have to leave after dinner. I have yoga at six.”

There was a long silence.

“Yoga?”

“For my back.”

“What’s wrong with your back?”

“Nothing serious. I’m trying to make sure it stays that way.”

“You should come here. Marina knows a chiropractor.”

“I already made arrangements with Clay.”

She continued asking questions until I promised I wasn’t hiding a career-ending injury and would see her Saturday afternoon. When we disconnected, Angie was still laughing.

“That went well.”

“Did it?”

“She didn’t cry.”

“She saves that for in person.”

The pizza and wings Angie ordered arrived a short time later, and we ate at the island while she filled me in on everything I’d missed at home during the season.

When we finished, she slid off the stool.

“I should get going before it gets too late.”

“You don’t want to stay?”

She shook her head. “I have plans tomorrow.”

“You could leave in the morning.”

“I could.” She grabbed her purse from the counter. “But I want to sleep in my own bed.”

“In my house.”

She kissed my cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I followed her to the door and waited until she got into her car before going back inside.

The house seemed especially quiet without her, but I didn’t mind. After eight months of crowded clubhouses, packed stadiums, and constant travel, quiet sounded pretty damn good.

Other than Clay trying to turn me into a human pretzel, the offseason promised to be peaceful.

Exactly what I needed.

I set the last candle on the floor near the mirrors and lit the wick.

The flame flickered before settling, joining the dozens of others spread throughout the studio. Their light reflected off the mirrors and polished poles, filling the room with a warm glow.

I stood and looked around.

“What do you think?”

Keera moved to stand beside me. “I think she’s going to love it.”

Candles lined the windowsills and circled the edges of the room. A vase of peach roses sat near the reception desk beside a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

Assuming she said yes.

My hand moved to the ring box in my pocket.

“It’s still there,” Keera said.

“I know.”

“You’ve checked a few times.”

“I don’t want to lose it.”

“You’re not going to lose it. And she’s going to say yes.” She checked the time on her phone. “We should text her. She’ll be leaving the house soon.”

Anjannette thought I was at Lackawanna College and planned to meet me at the restaurant afterward. With Clay away on vacation, Keera had the perfect excuse to ask her to stop here first.

“Ready?” she asked.

I curled my fingers around the ring box again.

“Ready.”

Keera typed a message, then held up her phone so I could read it.

Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I can’t remember if I locked the front door. I’m so used to Clay doing it, but with him on vacation, I’m second-guessing myself. Since you’re driving past the studio on your way to meet Leo, can you stop and check? And the studio door too?

“Looks good.”

She sent it.

We waited in silence until the three dots appeared on the screen.

A few seconds later, Keera smiled.

“She said she’ll stop.”

My heart kicked hard against my ribs.

My phone buzzed almost immediately.

Keera isn’t sure she locked up, so I’m stopping at the studio. I might be five minutes late.

I typed back.

No problem. Take your time.

❤️

Keera picked up her purse from the reception desk.

“I should get out of here.”

“Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome.” She stepped forward and hugged me. “She really is going to love it.”

I hugged her back. “I hope so.”

“She loves you. That’s the important part.”

“I love her too.”

“I know.” Keera released me and smiled. “But if you ever hurt her, I’ll make sure you never need to wear a cup again.”

“I know that too.”

After she left, I walked through the studio one more time, making sure everything was ready.

Then I paced the room while I waited for Anjannette.

A few minutes later, a car door slammed outside.

I started toward the window, then stopped. The last thing I needed was for her to spot me before she came inside.

I’d crouched behind home plate with the winning run on third. I’d played in front of packed stadiums and caught pitches that could do serious damage if I missed them.

None of it had made me this nervous.

The outside door opened, followed by footsteps in the hallway.

The studio doorknob turned.

Anjannette stepped inside and stopped.

Her gaze moved around the room, taking in the candles and flowers before settling on me.

“Leo?”

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

She looked over her shoulder, then back at me. “You’re supposed to be at Lackawanna.”

“I lied.”

“And Keera didn’t forget to lock the doors.”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You two set me up.”

“We did.” I held out my hand. “Come here.”

She hesitated for a second before walking toward me. When she reached the center of the room, I took both of her hands in mine.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“Why do you assume I did something?”

She glanced around. “There are candles everywhere, Leo.”

“Fair point.”

“And champagne.”

“That’s for later.”

Her gaze dropped to my pocket.

I should have known I couldn’t hide anything from her.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

“I wanted to do this here.”

Tears already filled her eyes, but she smiled. “Okay.”

“This is where I first saw you. You were hanging upside down from that pole like a sexy bat, and I couldn’t look away.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “A sexy bat?”

“The sexiest.”

“Is that why you were staring?”

“I was falling in love.”

Her smile trembled. “Keep going.”

I tightened my hold on her hands.

“When we met, you were convinced being with me meant giving up the life you’d built here. You thought you’d have to fit yourself around my career and follow me wherever baseball took me.”

“I was wrong.”

“You were.” I smiled. “But I don’t want you fitting your life around mine. I want us to build one that has room for both.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“I want all of it, Anjannette. Baseball seasons. Nights in Scranton. Road trips. Pole competitions. Your friends. My family showing up without warning.”

“Your family is welcome anytime.”

“Please don’t tell them that.”

She laughed through her tears.

I released one of her hands and reached into my pocket. Her breath caught when I pulled out the ring box.

“I love you more than I knew it was possible to love anyone.”

I lowered myself to one knee and opened the box.

“Anjannette Peach, will you marry me?”

She covered her mouth with both hands.

For several seconds, she didn’t say anything.

“Anjannette?”

“Yes.” She dropped her hands and nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Relief rushed through me. “With how many exclamation points?”

“At least as many as the sign.”

I laughed as I removed the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger.

She stared at it for a moment before throwing her arms around my neck. I stood and held her against me.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too.”

I kissed her, and her arms tightened around my neck.

The first time I saw Anjannette, she changed my life.

Now I got to spend the rest of it loving her.