Page 64 of A Game of Ruck
“She asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend because, well, sir, because your nieces are about as nice to her as a basket full of cobras.”
“Yes, I know this.Annabeth’s cousins have never been particularly warm to her.Just as my own siblings eye me with cold calculation instead of familial affection.I am afraid money makes strange bedfellows and even stranger relatives.”
“Nothing corrupts a person like money,” I agree.
“Except maybe love,” he counters.“Tell me, do you love my daughter?”
“Yes.I love her.I’m in love with her.But I-I think I broke her heart.”
Marco folds his arms.
“You didn’t break her heart, son.But you scared her.And when my daughter gets scared, she runs.”
“Yeah,” I rasp.“I figured that out.”
He gives me a long look.“So, what are you going to do now?”
“I’ll wait,” I say again, because it’s still true.“However long it takes.I’ll wait for her.”
Marco lifts a brow, then surprises the hell out of me with a small, grudging smile.
“Maybe you don’t have to wait quite so long.”
I stare.“You’ve got an idea?”
“You mentioned you’re going back to your team.I assume you have a match coming up?”
“Our friendly tour ends this week.We’ve got our first Major League Rugby match back in Consequence on Saturday.”
Marco taps his chin thoughtfully.
“I see, and your team, Mitchell Knight owns it?”
“Yeah.I went to school with him—wait.You know Mitchell?”
“Indeed, I do.We have some common business interests.Now as for getting my daughter down to see a game?—”
“You think you can get her there?To Consequence?”
“I believe I can, son,” he says.“How do you feel about NDAs and prenups?”
My brows shoot up.
“Mr.Martinez, I’ll sign anything she wants me to if she’ll just talk to me again.”
And I mean it.I fucking mean it so much.
“You love my daughter.You defended her in front of our entire family.And you knocked out a man I’ve wanted to punch for the better part of a decade.”He smiles coldly.“You’ve earned the benefit of the doubt.”
“I just want a chance to show her this is real.”
“Then I’ll see to it she’s in the front row.”
Something sparks in my chest.
Hope.Wild, reckless hope.
“You’re really going to help me?”
