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“If you don’t like it—”
“Put it on me.” He lays his palm flat against my stomach, locking eyes with me as I slide it on. When I hit the base of his finger, he curls our hands and knifes up, touching his lips to mine. “I love it,” he says softly.
“It reminded me of you.”
“I’ll wear it with pride.”
I bite the inside of my c
heek, trying to think of a way to bring up the next subject delicately. “Do you want to talk about Sunday night?”
“What’s there to talk about?”
“We haven’t really discussed it, and I know how much it meant to you.”
“We lost. It happens. It’s only a game.”
“It surprises me you’re so calm about it. The Super Bowl is a big deal. You’ve been working toward this the entire season, maybe even your entire life.”
He twists, adjusts the pillows, and then scoots to lean on the headboard, the whole time keeping our hands joined. When he gets settled, he has a gleam in his eyes. “Grace, did you watch the after game interviews?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I was too upset for you.”
“Well, let me see if I can explain this without sounding like a pompous asshole. I won the Super Bowl last year as a second-year quarterback. It was my year to be on fire. I knew it walking onto the plane last year that we would bring the trophy back to Miami. It was ‘there’. Everything clicked. This year, it didn’t. We fought hard, but in the end, they were a better team. We have next year, and the motivation is there. Our team will take some time to let it settle, and when we hit the field again, we’ll use this as motivation.”
“I can’t believe you’re so calm.”
“Losing you hurt a million times worse than losing that game. There will always be another game. That’s why when the reporter asked me what I was doing next, I told her the truth.”
“The truth?”
The gleam in his eyes starts to dance, and he swirls my diamond ring around my finger. “The truth. She expected me to say something along the lines of going home and watching the tapes until I found my errors, or expending all my energy in the offseason to correct those errors. Instead, I told her I was coming to Grace Land. That’s what was on my mind. So when I left Houston, I left the game behind, ready to get to you. And this ring you’ve given me means so much more than a Super Bowl ring.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds. So many things come to mind to say, but none of them can equate to the way my heart is bursting. This man has always had the ability to take my breath away.
“Did you actually say you were going to Grace Land?”
“I did. Only a few people in my inner circle actually know what that means.”
“The tourism in Memphis probably skyrocketed with fans.”
“Maybe, but you’re the only fan I care about.”
“Sexy Six is off the market.” I giggle.
“Sexy Six is hitched. Gone for good. No other woman will ever turn my head.”
“Charmer.”
“Only for you. Now, can we get back to our reunion? Because tomorrow we’ve got a house to look at. While my wife’s learning to make masterpieces, I’ve got to get us moved. Then I give it one week tops until our families are calling about visiting.”
“One more question.”
“Grace!” He throws his head back, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. “We’ve got the rest of our lives for questions. You’re straddling me, naked, tormenting me with your body. There are much more important things to do right now.” He rocks his hips again.
“Tell me about the house you found, and I promise to hold all further questions until it’s you who can’t walk tomorrow.”
This gets his attention, and his head snaps up, determination on his face.
