“That means a lot to me.”
“Shall we, ladies?” Connor says.
Seán hands DJ a bat and Niamh heads to the mound. Connor and I step off the field out of the way and Seán jogs after us to follow.
Once we’re in the dugout, I stand with my arms folded across my chest as I watch. This is all about timing. I want it to be perfect.
“Here we go,” Seán says.
“Aye.” I nod.
Deja
I’m vibratingwith excited energy. I haven’t been on a field in years. To be on this field is a dream come true.
I didn’t know I could love Cole more than I already did. Bringing me here has made him a superhero in my mind. Meeting Niamh is the icing on the cake.
“Okay, DJ, this is it. Don’t shit the bed, love. Yer man is watching. Show him ya still got it,” I whisper to myself.
Niamh throws that crazy screwball of hers. My breath hitches as I become one with the bat. I see myself hitting it before it gets to me and then I swing. The bat cracks against the ball and it’s out of here.
I drop the bat and go to run the bases for old time’s sake. Before I get to first base, fireworks explode in the air and the cheers of a small crowd ring out.
I stop and look up in the bleachers. All of the O’Briens and a few of the McGowans are in the stands, cheering and pointing. I turn to look at what they’re pointing to. Lighting the sky are the words:
Will Ya Marry Me?
The wind is knocked out of me. I drop to my knees, sobbing.
Cole comes to wrap his arms around me. I tuck my face into his neck, not able to stop crying. I can’t believe he did this.
“Come on, love. I’m going to need an answer,” he teases.
I pull away. He looks into my eyes. It’s that look.
The one my da used to give Mum is written on his face. It’s the look I always wanted my husband to have for me. The one that tells me without a doubt that he loves me. I cup his face and nod.
“Aye, I’ll marry ya.”
He crushes my lips with his in a searing kiss. Everyone cheers for us, but nothing else matters in this moment. Cole is everything to me.
CHAPTER 48
Making a Play
Boyle
“I still saywe should have split up,” I mumble as we step off the jet and climb into the waiting vehicle.
We’re flying in from Poland, where we’ve been lying low. When news came in that Deja had, in fact, made it out of the pub, we knew we needed to move and shift the plan.
Manipulating the situation with the Russians and Serbs in New York is officially off the table. I do believe we’ve burned a few other bridges there after the failed attempt on the Locatelli woman.
“We’re using up men. I need you here with me. While Misha in Russia, we hit New York and here.
“This where I need you. Here with me. I can’t fail again. I have run out of time.”
“Ya have run out of time. This is why I should be in America, making sure the attack is a success.”
