Page 138 of Wild Card

With a crooked smile, he jerked his chin toward the pitcher’s mound where Remy stood smiling at me, tossing a ball into the air and catching it.

There wasn’t any thought to it—one minute I was walking, the next I was jogging. He opened his arms, and I jumped into him, meeting him nearly lips first for a kiss.

The crowd whooped and whistled, and I laughed as he put me back on my feet.

“Hello, darling.”

“Hey, darlin’.”

“And what’s all this about?”

“Well...” He tossed the ball again and caught it. “First off, I got a call before the game from the scouting director.”

I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth. “Oh my God. About Atlanta?”

A smile broke out across his face. “I made it.”

I screamed and jumped and launched myself into his arms so I could kiss and kiss and kiss him, and cry a bit too, but mostly kiss him.

“You’re amazing,” I said against his lips.

He let me have my kiss and set me down. “I couldn’t have done it without you. I wouldn’t have done it without you. So I wanted to give you the game ball.” He took a step back and handed me the ball he’d been tossing. My brows drew together—something was written on it, coming into view as I turned the ball over in my hand.

Written in Remy’s square, solid hand were the words: Will you marry me?

When I looked up, stunned, he wasn’t up. He was down. On one knee. With a little velvet ring box opened and a vintage ring nestled in the cushion.

My hand flew to my mouth, tears pricking my eyes and nose.

“I thought I knew love, Jess, I really did,” he started, his voice shaking and eyes shining and hopeful. “But then I met you, and you showed me I didn’t know a goddamn thing. Now I can’t live without you. Can I have you forever? Will you marry me?”

“I’m already yours,” I said, flinging myself at him, my arms around his neck and my lips crashing into his. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close, stood and spun us around. I realized distantly that the stadium had gone mad. But it was just him and me, standing on the pitcher’s mound as he took the ring out of its box.

“It’s not worth anything, I don’t think—not in dollars and cents. But it was my great-grandmother’s, passed down through my mama’s family. If you want something fancier?—“

“Oh, no—not ever,” I breathed as he slid it on. It fit perfectly.

And then he was kissing me again, and my heart was on fire, and I knew I’d never, ever been so happy.

He set me down, still kissing me, and when I broke away, I laughed.

“God, do I love you,” I said, holding his face in my hands.

“Hey, same,” he said as he so often did.

There was no talking after that. Only love.

So much love.

And there always would be.

epilogue 2

WILDER

I was so fucked.

The crowd cheered around me in a hundred and eighty degrees as I stood on the pitcher’s mound, turning the ball in my hand behind my back.

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