Page 65 of Match Point

“I didn’t do my reserve service.” The timbre of his voice was raw and low, speaking of his inner turmoil. “I went to Puerto Rico because I found my mother.”

“You found your mother? I thought you said she was out of the country. Well, I guess she is, isn’t she? I mean, Puerto Rico is a US territory.” She was rambling and she pressed her lips together to stop. “I’m sorry, go on.”

“After my father’s funeral, my mother was detained, and deported back to Nicaragua. Instead of taking me with her, she gave up her parental rights and handed me over as a ward of the state.” Bitterness and sadness showed stark on his face.

“That’s horrible. Why was she deported?” Her hand flew to her chest, her heart aching for him. She’d never known her mother and her dad was very dear to her. Losing both of his parents within a few days of each other had to be devastating. She could read the pain in the rigidity of his frame.

“My father was here with a green card but my mother was undocumented. He joined the military with the promise of citizenship. He never got it. I was born a US citizen. She was deported from the country that he died to protect.”

“Is that why you left the Army?” Fury sparked for him and for the unfairness of it all. His explanation gave her insight into his past and perhaps opened a door to their combined futures.

“In part, yes, but frankly, I don’t like being told what to do. It pisses me off.” He rested his knuckles on his hips, head back. Adam’s apple working, he laughed.

She grinned, the ice around her heart thawing. Arms outstretched, she slid her hands up his sides, moving into his embrace. “I sensed that about you.”

“I’ve been looking for my mom ever since I turned eighteen.” He hugged Sorcha, the thud of his heart against her ear full of life and promise. “Come to find out, she’s been traveling around the world doing disaster relief. She’s in a wheelchair and has multiple sclerosis.”

Her smile fell and she rested her chin on his chest. “Is she okay? The island is still reeling from the hurricane.”

“Her husband is a doctor and she’s a nurse, and yes, she’s safe for the moment. I’ve been looking for ten years, but I had to see her before I lost track of her again. But that’s not what I was sorry about.” He cupped the back of her neck and rested his forehead against hers. The warmth of his body enveloped her, wrapping her in a cocoon of love. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough to tell you how I felt. It’s not easy for me to connect with people. I spent many years trying to pretend I was okay when apparently I wasn’t.”

She rubbed his back, trying to soothe his heartache. “Grams told me some things. Not a lot, mind you. She said you just wanted to be heard.”

“Yes, I want you to hear me.” He spoke near her ear, his lips playing over her earlobe. “I’m miserable without you, Sorcha. We’re still opposites in many ways, and I know I’m on your list of things you don’t like, but I think I can change your mind if you give me another chance.”

Body pressed tight to his, she inhaled the smell of starch and heated skin, a combination that would be forever imprinted in her mind. “I’ve since revised my list. I still don’t like to get muddy, unless it’s while mountain biking. I still dislike bugs, but I don’t mind spiders. I don’t like to deprive myself of anything, most especially you. I love you, Leo, I have for a long time and I pray I always will.”

He withdrew far enough out of her embrace to kiss her forehead, his fingers on her elbows, thumb caressing the exposed flesh. “I told you what I want in life and that still holds true. I guess the question is, do you want the same things? Because if you do, we can make our own rules.”

“The answer is yes.”

He offered her a lingering kiss full of promise and hope. In his arms, she’d found home. It wasn’t a brick and mortar house, a city or a country. It was a feeling; and she’d hold onto this feeling—and this man—for the rest of her life.

Chapter Fifty-Two

“First one to the top of the mountain gets a massage.” Leo said, feet pushing the pedals through the thickening mud. It had rained the night before and the trail was muddier than usual. Sorcha was a few bike lengths behind him as the undergrowth made it impossible for them to ride side by side.

“I’ve had your massages and they always lead to one place, and it’s not my back. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” Her breathy laughter gave him added incentive to move faster. Since they’d returned to Grams’ ranch, it had become increasingly harder to motivate himself out of her bed in the morning.

“You haven’t yet.” He turned a bend and the trees opened up, the winding path widening.

“No, I haven’t yet.” She shot past him, butt off the seat, her shorts riding up over the cheeks of her ass as she pedaled hard. He was enjoying the view so much he’d consider letting her win, but he couldn’t do that. She needed to beat him fair and square, to revel in her own power.

Bending over the handlebars, he dug his heels in and followed. She had a small lead, the sounds of their combined breath echoing in the mountain stillness. The cedar tree came into view, close, but from the burning in his thighs, not close enough for comfort. Ferns lined the trail, hitting at his pant legs as he was forced to swerve to the side to avoid a deep puddle. His back tire slid out from beneath him and he put his leg down, missing the cloudy water by inches. Shit.

He pivoted his bike, righted himself and continued up the path, but he was too late. Sorcha hopped onto the stump next to the tree and began to dance. Arms out, she released her hair from its constraints and let the mass fall about her shoulders. “I did it, I did it. I beat you, finally! I’m the Queen of the world.”

“And here I thought you were a princess.” He dropped his bike and approached the stump. She’d been fighting Miller in court after the second interview with Grace Chen was aired. More of his NDA kids were coming out of the woodwork. Her family had grown exponentially in the course of a year. His own mother had moved from Puerto Rico to Mexico City and he and Sorcha had visited her a few times. It had been a long road, but broken hearts had started to mend.

“In my world, I can be both.” She cocked her hip, a sultry smile drawing him in.

Would he ever get tired of kissing her or hearing her laugh? He hoped not. He hoped they’d be together until they were gray and old. “In my world, you’re a princess, and what does every princess wish for?”

“I’d say Prince Charming, but you’re far from princely, although I’ve known you to be charming on occasion.” She grinned, fingers moving to the hem of her t-shirt before she stripped it off. The most current ranking had shown her at number three, not quite where she’d wanted to be during the last season. She’d readjusted her priorities and being number one wasn’t as important as it once was.

“You want your massage now?”

They’d bought a ranch of their own on the other side of the mountain from Grams’, and had even discussed having a family. Things were moving in a promising direction.

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