Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I’m about to check when the elevator doors open. I was expecting to arrive on the ground floor, somewhere near an exit. There, an unmarked van would be waiting to whisk me away to an airstrip. I’d be out of the country, untraceable, in half an hour, tops.
I gulp as he motions that I should leave the elevator.
“Wh—where are we going?”
No answer, just a curt, “Go ahead.”
It takes me an obnoxiously long time to get my bearings for where we are. I didn’t recognize the entrance to the field at first. We’re walking through a tunnel, the same one the guys usually use when they go to and from the locker rooms and clubhouse.
Okay…
Maybe the kidnappers have a different strategy for getting me out of here. The stadium roof is open tonight because of the nice weather, which probably means they’ll land a helicopter on the field instead of taking a van.
I’m so ensconced in this absurd idea that it takes me a second to register the scene laid out before me.
The stadium lights have been cut, save for a spotlight aimed directly over the pitcher’s mound. Grant stands in the warm glow, waiting for me. He looks freshly showered. His short hair is styled handsomely, and he’s dressed to the nines in a black suit, no tie. He nods to the security guard, who abruptly turns, leaving me on the edge of the field all by myself.
“What is this?” I ask with a nervous chuckle.
Grant’s response is a winning smile, but nothing else. I look around me, searching. The stands are empty. The place is ours.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a shake of my head.
It’s the shock that keeps me from understanding right away what this is. Not until I shake off my stupor and start to walk toward him on trembling legs as he slowly bends down onto one knee does realization dawn.
This is a proposal happening exactly one year to the day since Grant officially asked me to be his girlfriend. We had plans to eat a late dinner together. That’s why I thought he was asking me to hang back at the stadium for him. We’d been going on all week about where we could go and how we could celebrate our anniversary. We could do a spa day! We could do a stay-cation! We could stay in bed for twenty-four hours straight! He just let me run my mouth, and all the while he knew this was going to happen. This!
I’m crying before I reach him. Happy tears trickle down my cheeks as I laugh and swipe them away.
“You’re crazy!” I say as I stand before him. “Insane!”
He smiles and waits for me to get it out.
“You let me go on and on about getting Chinese food tonight! You were so convincing!”
He tips his head, watching me.
“Grant.”
“Tate…”
His voice slays me. That steady calm timbre seems connected to every nerve ending inside me. He plays me like a fiddle.
“I’m sorry about the Chinese food, I am,” he says with a teasing smile.
I laugh as he continues.
“But I had an important question to ask you tonight, and I couldn’t wait another day.”
In his right hand, he holds up a small diamond ring. Its gold band is ornate, antique, beautifully delicate as it glistens in the spotlight. I recognize it right away as having once belonged to his mom. When did he ask his dad for it? How long has he…
“Tate…” His voice trembles now. “Will you marry me?”
Emotion tightens my chest as the past year flashes through my mind. The high highs and low lows. The week we spent in Phoenix with his dad over the holidays. The way Grant spoiled him in subtle ways his father couldn’t argue with: a home-cooked meal, a few new flannel shirts wrapped up with a bow, not letting him lift a finger to wash a dish or clean up while we were there. The way when we’re together, he’s just Grant. He doesn’t care about the fame. He could be a damn mailman with the way he treats people. No one is beneath him, no one is less worthy than anyone else. I think of the time he was at the grocery store and I begrudgingly asked him if he could pick up some tampons for me since I’d just run out. There was no huffing and puffing about running the errand. He showed up at my apartment with two bags full and made sure to ask if he’d purchased the right brand so he’d know for sure for next time. I think of how once, offhand, I mentioned that it would be fun to take a cooking class, and a month later, he surprised me with a date at Sur La Table. I think of how when we have a free Saturday, he asks if I want to swing by and pick up Harper so we can spend the day with her. He’s so sweet with her, tender and silly. He wants her to like him so bad, which is absurd because Harper likes everyone, but the fact that he cares that much makes me love him all the more.