Page 99 of The Secret Play

Over breakfast, my brother and best friend had gone from awkward pauses to sly looks. I didn’t believe for a second that all that happened was two people accidentally falling asleep, but I wasn’t about to confront them in front of Winnie. Both because it was none of my business technically, and because all I could focus on was Casey.

His eyes held a spark of something mischievous, and the way he leaned casually against the counter made it clear he was about to say something big. With his arms crossed over his muscular chest, his shoulders looked even broader, and I got lost in salacious thoughts while I sipped my coffee. Without warning, he said, “Marry me.”

I froze mid-reach for a refill, a laugh bubbling out of me before I could stop it. “Well, I already said yes last night, so…”

He shook his head, stepping closer, his expression soft yet utterly serious. “No. Now.”

His words caught me off guard, and I tilted my head, trying to understand what he was saying. “Nownow?”

“Yes. Right now.” He took another step toward me, and the intensity of his gaze made my heart flip. He smiled as he peered into my eyes, like he saw exactly how his nearness made me feel. “Whitney said something in her last text that I can’t stop thinking about. She reminded me that we’ve only got the offseason before everything ramps up again. Once the new season starts, my schedule will be insane, and I won’t have time to just enjoy being a newlywed. I want to spend more time with you and our daughter before that happens, and I want to do that as your husband.”

I didn’t know what to say. It was crazy and spontaneous. Could I just go get married? Who does that? Pregnant people, that’s who. When I came down with a case of the pregnants, one of Nico’s complaints regarding her father was that I should be getting married to him.

It was regressive as hell, and a part of why he spent less than an hour in LA when he came out to yell at me. I told him in no uncertain terms I was not marrying Winnie’s father, and he started about how a child needs both parents. That was enough for me to tell him to leave. I was surprised when he did.

I was glad that we had worked that out. After that initial argument, he never brought it up again. I wasn’t sure if it had bothered him in the intervening years, but he’d kept his thoughts to himself. He probably sensed that was the only way he would get to visit his niece.

But getting married to her father now? No invitations, no big party…no guests to cause a problem, no huge expense… “Isn’t this kind of crazy?”

“Maybe. But do we care about that kind of thing?”

I huffed a laugh. “Not really.”

“So, let's get married,” he said, taking my hands in his. “Let’s use the offseason to be newlyweds, to enjoy each other without the world pulling us in a million directions.”

“But we need a marriage license.”

“Not if we go to Vegas.”

“Vegas?” I repeated, the word sounding almost absurd in the middle of my newly cleaned kitchen. I knew they’d cleaned up their act, but it was still Sin City. How could I bring Winnie there? Were there things for kids to do besides watch their parents get married?

He turned to Nico and Megan, who were perched at the table with bowls of Winnie’s concoction in front of them. “You two,” he said, pointing at them, “will you be our witnesses when we get married in Las Vegas?”

Nico’s brows shot up in surprise while Megan nearly choked on a spoonful of cereal. “Vegas?” Nico asked, a quick grin spreading across his face. “Hell yeah, I’m in.”

Megan smirked, shaking her head. “The moment you brought it up, you knew I was coming too, right? You get her, you get me, too.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Casey grinned and turned back to me, his hands still holding mine. “So, what do you think? Let’s get on a plane and get married in Vegas. Right now. I don’t want to spend another moment of my life not being married to you.”

Tears welled up, and I took a breath to say the only thing that came to mind. “Yes.”

He kissed me sweetly, making the world feel brighter. “You better get packing. I have some calls to make.”

“Calls?”

“Someone has to make the reservations, and you’ll be too busy overpacking to do them yourself.”

I cocked a brow at him. “What makes you think I’m an overpacker?”

“Just a gut feeling.”

I rolled my eyes at him and dashed for my room, my mind spinning with everything I’d need for an impromptu wedding. He might have been right about the over-packing thing. I fingered through hangers and drawers, pulling out dresses, shoes, and anything else I thought might work. My heart raced, but not with nerves. It was with pure, unfiltered excitement.

I was going to marry Casey. Not tomorrow, not next month—today.The thought sent a thrill through me, and I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “Okay,” I muttered to myself, tossing a pair of nude heels into my bag. “A simple dress, something classic. Oh God, do I even have anything appropriate for a wedding?”

A knock on the door startled me, and I turned to see Megan stepping through the frame, her arms crossed and a knowing look on her face. “All right,” she said, closing the door behind herself. “I need to ask—are you sure about this?”

“What do you mean?”

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