Coach grins at the dark-haired woman as she steps forward, the number 16 glittering on her jacket in clear and yellow gems. Reporters part around her, cameras flash, and people call out to her for comments. It’s chaos, but it doesn’t touch me. The moment my eyes lock on her fathomless green irises, everything else fades away. It may as well be me and Mira alone in this room. Nothing and no one else matters.
“Go ahead, miss.”
“My question is for Griffin,” Mira says, a soft, secret smile on her face that makes my heart race.
“And what question might that be, Mrs. Graves?” I return her smile.
Reporters look at each other, sharing wide-eyed stares. But I’m only looking at her.
“Well, I was wondering if you’d marry me. For real this time. With a white dress and a tux and invitations. With our families and friends there instead of Dolly Parton.” Those pretty lips of hers twitch into the most bewitching smile. “Though I suppose we could still invite her and Elvis, if you really want to.”
Tears make my vision waver as I laugh at that and push out of my seat. Mira takes a few more steps toward me, and it’s clear I’m not the only one trying not to cry.
“What do you say? Will you marry me?”
The whole room holds its breath.
I smile wider than I ever thought possible.
“Thought you’d never ask, sunshine.”
Then I vault over the table like I’m taking to the ice, close the distance between us, wrap my wife up in my arms, and spin her around right there in the middle of a sea of reporters. I notice Isla and Lexi beaming and jumping up and down in the corner of the room, my teammates and closest friends cheering, and the flashes that come so fast and often that they look like strobe lights. But mostly, I notice the way Mira’s tears spill down hercheeks, the way her hair tickles my neck, and the cherry flavor of her lip gloss as I take her mouth in a kiss that will no doubt be plastered all over the internet within minutes.
“I thought you needed time,” I whisper against her lips.
Soulful green eyes pierce my heart as she whispers her reply. “A wise man once told me that love isn’t about perfection, and I realized he was right. That you don’t need me to be perfect, you just need me to be present. To love you to the best of my ability. A few more weeks or months won’t change that, and I really,reallyhate being apart from you.”
“Fuck, baby, I hate it, too. So much.” I press my forehead against hers before stealing another kiss.
“Come home? We can figure the rest out later.”
“You’re sure?”
She nods. “More sure than I’ve ever been. I love you.”
The deep-seated part of me that’s always waiting to be rejected unclenches and sighs. She’s here. She’s choosing me.Claimingme. Publicly. And it hasn’t even been six months.
“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”
Mira grins. “I think I have a pretty good idea after tonight.”
“Baby, this is just the beginning.”
Sweeping her into my arms, we ignore the shouts and chaos around us as I carry my wife, bridal style, out of the room. We have a win to celebrate. And a wedding to plan.
fifty-one
GRIFFIN
My wifejust proposed to me in front of a room full of reporters and press. Holy shit.
She giggles and burrows her face in my neck as I carry her to my car, letting Maddox and Isla know we’ll meet them at Chasers to celebrate. For a little while. Then I have some celebratory plans that would get us arrested for indecent exposure. We’ll have to go home for those.
Home. She wants me to come home. She wants to stay married.
She wants me.
When we get to the G-Wagon, I set Mira’s feet on the ground, only to push her back against the car. Caging her body in, I press my forehead to hers, closing my eyes and savoring her softness and warmth against me, the sound of her shallow breathing, and the floral scent of her hair. She’s my safe place. My home. And even though I was determined not to let her go, I can’t deny the fear that crept in like shadowy vines at the edge of my mind. Every other woman I’d been with had decided I wasn’t forever material. What if Mira had come to the same decision?
