Page 75 of The Hellion and the Captain
He had spent the rest of his life making sure that she was happy and could pursue whatever dreams she tried to achieve.
Her dreams centered around making it possible for women to do as they pleased rather than being relegated to the roles expected of them – dreams that began when she had been told that there was no room for her to work in a company such as her father’s.
In one week, Emmaline would present her idea and play in the FA Cup final. She rubbed her temples as her stomach turned over again. Emmaline had always felt that she could conquer anything that came her way, but it was beginning to feel like it was all coming her way simultaneously.
But then, after it was all done, if she and Rhys could truly be together?
It would all be worth it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rhys surveyed the bathhouse. Everything was as ready as could be. In two days, they would take on the Athletics for the title. When they had lost last season, he had been more disappointed than he had ever let on, but he had been determined to keep a brave face and encourage his players to be ready for next year.
It was part of his role as captain, and one that he didn’t take lightly.
Still, it was hard to believe how far they had come once again.
And he had Emmaline, in part, to thank. She had stuck with him, time and again, had spent hours improving herself to contribute to this football club and help them secure all of the wins possible.
He still hadn’t allowed himself to believe that she might one day be his. Part of him worried that she might change her mind once she fully realized what she was giving up to be with a man like him. But if this were ever to work, he had to believe in her.
He walked over to inspect the uniforms. Each player’s waslaid out in their spot on the bench, the cream and maroon crisper than ever. He did a slow circle around the room, his gaze landing on the corner spot where Emmaline always sat, although in reality she was mostly hiding away from the men.
He narrowed his eyes. He could see something on her uniform, which didn’t make sense. They should all be pristine, clean and folded perfectly on the bench.
As his steps toward it became more hurried, the door behind him opened, and he stopped, surprised to find Emmaline standing there. She wore her practice gear, but she hadn’t taken the extra care to darken her feminine features or eyebrows. Her cap was so low that she had pulled it over her brows.
“Emmaline,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“I’d like to say that I came for extra practice, but the truth is, I think I came for a little comfort.”
The volume of her words decreased as she spoke, and he realized then that she was showing him a moment of vulnerability she likely never let anyone see, for she was always so strong, so insistent on her ability to tackle whatever came her way.
The uniform forgotten, he walked quickly toward her.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured, reaching out and stroking her cheek, pleased that they were alone and he had the opportunity to do so.
“I’m just nervous about what’s to come, I suppose,” she said with a slight shrug and a forced smile. “There is much waiting for us in the next few days.”
“Ah, yes, your meeting tomorrow,” he said, chagrined that with all the anticipation for the Cup, he had forgotten.
“Yes,” she said, releasing a forceful breath of air. “What if they say no?”
“Then they say no.”
She nodded, her jaw clenched.
“Rhys?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think I could have a hug?”
“Of course,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close and tucking her into the crook of his shoulder. He wasn’t sure how long he held her, his entire body relaxing into the feel of her, so perfect in his arms, but the moment he felt her stiffen, he knew something was amiss.
She jerked backward.
“What happened to my uniform?”
