3 Months Later

 

Marina smiled at the sight he made—muscles straining his t-shirt, tattoos down both arms to his wrists, the tough guy attitude he projected without even trying—carrying Sam’s half-eaten, mostly melted blue raspberry snow cone.

She only had to look at him to get breathless, to have her heartbeat kick up, for the churning in her stomach to start. But not just because of what he looked like. Maybe despite it, because underneath all that hot, sexy toughness was a protective streak a mile wide, a core of goodness, of integrity, that was damn rare, and a man who’d risked his own life—no hesitation, no questions asked—for her.

He took a sip when he sat down next to her and screwed up his face.

“Christ, how does she eat this?”

“Careful.” Marina laughed. “You’ll get a blue tongue.”

“Yeah?” In an instant his dark eyes went dark and dirty and dangerous. “Then later you’ll get a blue—”

“Stop.”

Marina looked around to make sure no one had heard him and he smiled—a flash of white, even teeth that went straight to his eyes. A real smile. Natural and easy. Just for her. God, she’d never get tired of seeing that.

When she turned back to the game, her own smiled died and everything in her went still because Sam was putting on her batting helmet.

“What did you say to him?” she whispered.

Roarke had gone down to talk to Sam in the dugout and Marina had seen him chatting to the coach.

“That if he didn’t put the kid in the game I’d break both his arms.”

He said it so matter-of-factly it took a few seconds for the words to sink in.

“Are you kidding?” she choked.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah…what?”

He turned to her then. “That’s what I wanted to say, but I restrained myself. For you. And the kid.” He shrugged. “I told him she’s been practicing really hard and she’s earned a shot.”

This season Sam had sat on the bench more times than she’d played. Marina had tried a bunch of times to talk to the coach, but he’d always brushed her off. She’d wanted to take Sam out of the league and the team, had wondered if the constant disappointment was worth it, except Sam hadn’t wanted to let her teammates down. Little did she know they probably wouldn’t have even noticed whether she came or not. It broke her heart each and every time.

Roarke’s brothers had played baseball through school and he’d been spending time with her working on her catching and batting. Her skill and confidence had improved, but game play could be completely different.

Marina held her breath at the pitch, but she needn’t have worried. Sam hit a clean hit on the first ball to a gap in the outfield and the home crowd cheered her on as she ran. When she was safe on first base she turned and looked straight at Roarke. She always knew exactly where he was sitting. She smiled and pointed a finger right at him.

Marina laughed at the sheer joy on her face, the silliness of the gesture, the bond this harsh man and her daughter had built. Tears stung at the back of her throat.

“I want to marry you.”

Roarke’s words were so quiet, so low, they didn’t register at first.

“I— What?” she managed.

“I want to marry you.”

All at once it felt as if the oxygen had been sucked from the warm morning air. He hadn’t looked at her, was still facing forward watching the game, his profile set in harsh lines.

She hadn’t imagined it, had she?

“You—you’re proposing to me at a kid’s softball game?” she breathed.

He looked down at his hands, clasped between his wide-spread thighs. “The kid and I made a deal.”

Marina frowned. “A deal? What kind of deal?”

“That if she made it to first base, I’d ask you.”

“What?”

“The deal part was all her idea.”

“Roarke—”

“You’re stalling.” His gaze lifted to hers then, dark and piercing. “I just need one word, Marina.”

Well, she’d give him a word all right. “Why?”

His mouth lifted at one corner. “Not the word I was after.”

He’d already asked her if she’d move into his house with him. He’d finished the renovation, but he hadn’t put it on the market. As it turned out, Roarke flipped around ten houses a year, but this one he’d kept, made it into a home, a huge, gorgeous home. He’d told her yesterday he was planning to build a batting cage in the large backyard.

She bit her lip. “Roarke, I—I don’t want you to feel you have to, you know, because of Sam. If it’s for her benefit, for appearances, then—”

“The kid…” He cleared his throat. “She told me she loved me last week. When we were practicing down here on the field.”

“Oh.”

Wow.

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “I figured if she can say it, just like that, I can man-up and do the same.”

Oh God.

He looked at her then, direct and laser focused. “I love you, Marina and I’ve never said that to another woman. Ever. I love you and I love the kid. That’s why. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.”

She had no time to prepare for the impact of the words, no time to anticipate how they’d sound, how they’d make her feel. She’d been okay never hearing them from him because she didn’t need the words. He showed her every day. In every touch, every word, every look.

But God…the words. They roared through her—so simple, so powerful. Maybe she’d needed them after all.

“I—I’ve already been married, Roarke.”

His dark brows shot down over his eyes. “So?”

She’d regret having ever met Stuart if it weren’t for Sam. He’d been a mistake, plain and simple. One she’d sworn she’d never repeat.

“So, it didn’t work out so great.”

“Yeah, thank fuck for that,” he forced out.

“Roarke—”

“So, do you have a word now?”

He was all rugged confidence, but Marina saw the hint of uncertainty under it, the air of vulnerability she now knew he only ever let her see.

“Yes,” she whispered. There was no other word, no other choice, and in that moment she’d never been more sure of anything in her life.

One eyebrow lifted. The gesture might have seemed casual, even arrogant, but she’d seen his jaw clench. “Yes, you have another word? Or is the word yes?”

“The word is…yes.”

He let out a heavy breath and reached out his hand to her. She placed her palm against his—warm and rough—sliding her fingers between his until they were laced together. Tight and strong. One.

“I’d kiss you right now,” he rasped, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “But I wouldn’t want to stop. Later. Okay?”

There was a solemn promise in his words, an explicit vow. She nodded, not trusting her voice.

Roarke turned toward the field. He pointed at Sam, smiled and gave her a thumbs up. She shrieked, laughed, jumped up and down.

Marina’s chest tightened. She’d never seen Sam so happy. She’d never been so happy. She squeezed Roarke’s hand, felt him tighten his hold in return. Because they were a family. Her family.