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“You could never look ridiculous.” Champion escorted me to the hotel entrance.
“Hello, Mr. Valentine.” The uniformed doorman tipped his hat and opened the glass door. “Congrats on winning the Super Bowl.”
“Thanks,” Champion said.
His gaze straight ahead, he strode across the travertine floors, and I had to practically jog to keep up with him. His expression was resolute. Glancing at him, I thought he looked like he did stepping out onto the field during the first game in the playoffs.
Heads turned. The lobby was crowded. Many people recognized him, maybe me too, given the publicity. But no one approached us. The numerous security guards hanging around probably had something to do with it.
We reached the other side of the ornate lobby quickly. Apparently, Champion knew exactly where he was going. He opened the door for me.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
Outside, he took my arm again. I noted a bunch of people with badges mingling around white folding chairs on a grassy lawn, but he didn’t head there. Instead, he took me down a path that led deeper into the tropical foliage.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Over here for a little privacy.” He ducked into a manmade grotto. Water rushed down prefab rocks into a pool on one side of us, and a hibiscus bush nearly as tall as a tree hemmed us in on the other.
“This is very secluded,” I said, then gasped as Champion suddenly dropped to the ground on one knee. Wide-eyed, I gaped down at him. “What are you doing?”
“Asking you to marry me.” He withdrew a small velvet box from his suit pocket. It couldn’t have been there earlier. I would have felt it. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said. “You are the light that took away the darkness.”
“You are the piece that has been missing from my life. You complete me,” he said, his voice deep. “I’ve been in love with you since I saw you dance in that tree. Will you marry me?”
“When did you have time to get a ring?” I asked. Unable to believe what was happening, I focused on logistics.
“I didn’t get one. Not yet.” He opened the box. His Super Bowl ring was inside.
“That’s not going to even fit my thumb,” I said, my eyes burning with emotion while my heart went flipflop crazy.
“Is that a yes?” he asked.
“Of course I’ll marry you. I don’t care about a ring. I just care about you. I’ll wear your ring on a chain if I need to. But get up off the ground,” I said. “Champion Valentine, world-famous quarterback, does not take a knee.”
I reached for him, and he stood.
“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.” Framing my face, he kissed me, hard and deliciously deep, but he ended it way too soon.
“Happier than winning the Super Bowl?” I teased.
“Easily,” he said.
This guy. This wonderful man. A tear spilled from my eye.
“Well, good.” I smiled. “Because you make me happier than I was when I watched you win it.”
He grinned and kissed me again. He put his ring on my thumb, and we walked out of our private Saint Croix-like grotto into the next chapter of our lives.
Electra
Two weeks later
WHERE ARE MY shoes?
I dropped to the floor and looked under the bed. No shoes, but Mr. Smooches was there. Lifting his regal head, he gave me a disdainful glance for interrupting his slumber.
