by Sarah Monzon
Kayla pinched off another piece of pretzel and chewed.
“But if you’re looking for someone who does understand because they have experienced everything you have, then I know Someone.”
Kayla gave Amber a cursory glance out of the side of her eye. “Who?”
“Jesus. The Bible says that He is moved to compassion for all those who suffer, and that He knows exactly what everyone has gone through, not only because He is always with us, but because He has suffered as well.” One shoulder rose to her ear in nonchalance. If she allowed her face to show the earnestness she felt in her gut, she was afraid she’d scare Kayla away. “Plus, He promised to send us the Comforter.”
Kayla didn’t respond, but she didn’t walk away either.
“I actually forgot that for a while. What you said pierced me because you weren’t the first person to say that to me. I’d even been telling the same thing to myself. But, you know, I actually have to thank you. Your accusations shook me, and because of them, I was ultimately reminded that it’s not about me. I don’t have to have all the answers or live all the lives. I just have to be willing to point people to the One who has.”
Kayla snorted. “You Christians are weird. Thanking someone who doesn’t even believe for helping you out with some spiritual dilemma or some rot.”
“That just means God’s already using you.” Amber grinned.
“Yeah. Whatever.” Kayla spared her another glance. “So, what are you going to do about my brother?”
Amber rubbed her sweaty palms on her legs. Talk about getting everything out in the open at once. “How much did you hear the other night?”
“He told me you walked away after he told you he loved you.”
She winced. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. That had never been her intention. But intention or not, if she’d told someone she loved them and they didn’t respond in kind, the rejection would be hard to get over.
“He also told me why.” For the first time Kayla turned and gave Amber a full look. “That was really decent of you.”
Really? Did that mean—?
“Decent but unnecessary.” Kayla put a fist on her hip and wrapped herself back up in an aggressive air. One Amber saw right through. “Look, Seth and I are good. Or, rather, we will be. But not if you push me in the middle of you two and make me the reason why he can’t be with the woman he loves.”
Amber pressed her lips together, but even that enforcement couldn’t keep the smile from growing across her face.
Kayla made a disgusted sound, but her sparkling eyes gave her away. “I’m glad I’ll be here so I don’t have to witness whatever sickening display will be going on once you two get together.”
Despite her efforts, Amber felt her face flush. “I wouldn’t…that’s not…”
Kayla hooted. “You really are that innocent, aren’t you?”
Amber averted her gaze and willed her body temperature to cool. She twirled the ring on her finger and wished for once that maybe she weren’t quite so sheltered. Maybe if she had dated casually, she’d know a little more about what to do when she stood in front of Seth. What words to say. Or would he be able to look deep into her eyes and see her feelings written in her gaze? Should she kiss him? Maybe run toward him on the soccer field and throw herself in his arms like some scene in a movie? What if she wasn’t even let into the stadium to see him? Should she wait at his house? Or—
“Hey.” Kayla nudged her gently with an elbow. “Don’t look so panicked. And don’t overthink everything. I can practically see your brain working through the moment like it’s a math problem or something. Just”—she shrugged—“see what happens.”
#
See what happens. Amber had lost count of how many times she’d repeated that phrase to herself in the last few hours. So far she’d boarded a plane to England, taken a cab to the training field where Seth’s soccer club practiced, and managed not to throw up.
Now she was walking up to the main building, her nerves buzzing more than a swarm of honeybees, with no idea if she was going to be thrown out on the spot. Or worse.
Her hand halted on the door, and she breathed in deeply. See what happens. She pushed and the door swung open. It took a second to register that the entrance hadn’t been locked before she walked in.
Pristine white shocked her senses. White walls. White floors. White leather sofas. An air of opulence and sophistication. And wealth. Not at all what she’d expected from a sports training center, but then again, this was a far cry from a Bible college’s intramural team.
“Can I help you, miss?” A slightly older man, though still fit enough to fill out his security uniform, approached her.
She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “I was, uh, hoping to speak with Seth Marshall.” And not getting thrown out for trespassing would be nice. Please and thank you.
The guard with equal amounts of salt and pepper in his hair regarded her. “You wouldn’t happen to be Amber Carrington, would you?”
He knew who she was? “Y-yes.” She held out her hand. “I’m Amber. Pleased to meet you.”
The man shook her hand, delight shifting his frown into an amused smile. “Justin.” He studied her a minute and then chuckled. “This day just got a lot more interesting. I’d ask why you’re here, but I’m fairly certain I already know. At least, I hope I do.”
Amber swallowed. “I need to tell Seth…well, I need to tell him something, and then…I guess we’ll see what happens.”
Justin pivoted on the balls of his feet and hooked an arm in the air. “Follow me. You’re not technically supposed to be here, but I think for the sake of the team and the outcome of the entire season, you better go on and say what you need to say to him.”
What in the world does that mean? But Amber didn’t ask. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
Call her crazy, but she could practically feel how near Seth was. That magnetism about him charged against her ribs, pulling her closer to him. She almost told Justin she didn’t need his guidance. She’d be able to find Seth with her eyes closed, his true north leading her home.
Justin opened a door to the outside, and she stepped over the threshold. Noise from a scrimmage on a nearby field tugged her forward. Shouts and bellows for passes grew in volume as her feet traversed first the pavement of a parking lot and then the lush softness of a sodded field.
She didn’t have to scan the area to find him. Didn’t have to inspect each face before latching on to the one she sought. And just as she’d known, now that she’d let herself get close enough, there would be no separation. The connection she’d felt when they first met had only intensified, a welder’s torch melding them together.
The soccer ball arched in the air, kicked by a defender, and rolled over to her. She lifted her foot and set it on top of the ball, her gaze boring into the back of the one she’d come for.
See me. See my heart.
A hush fell over the field, the bodies that had been in motion stilling.
Except one.
He turned as if in slow motion, his beautifully sculpted shoulders rotating toward her. Their eyes locked, just as they had on the field in Germany, and the something in her that had recognized something in him that day sparked again. Except this time, she knew what that something was.
Her future.
He walked toward her, each step filled with purpose. If anyone moved, if anyone said anything, she didn’t see. Didn’t hear. Every molecule of her body hummed and focused on the man drawing closer to her.
He stopped about a foot in front of her. Searched her gaze. His throat bobbed and the corners of his lips tugged. “I believe you have something of mine.”
She rolled the ball over to him with the bottom of her foot. Not one of his muscles flexed as the ball slowly bowled past him.
“I wasn’t talking about the ball.” Amusement danced in his golden eyes. “I was referring to my heart. You walked away with it the other day, and I’ve had a dreadful time t
rying to function without it.”
Her pulse quickened. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to keep it.”
His charming half-grin flashed across his face. “You would?”
“Mmhmm.” She nodded. “But it wouldn’t be fair for you to have to function without a heart when I now have two so…” She searched his gaze. “I’d like to give you mine.”
He took a step forward. “Are you sure?”
She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around his sweaty waist. “To be honest, you already have it. I think you have for a while now.”
He pulled her tight and crushed her to him.
She breathed in, not caring about the ripe undertones not masked by deodorant. She wanted to experience him. All of him. The good and the bad. The old and the new. “Seth,” she murmured.
Leaning back, he peered down into her eyes.
She licked her dry lips, a thrill shooting through her middle as his gaze darted down to follow the movement across her mouth.
See what happens.
“You know how you said I didn’t need to experience everything everyone else did in order for me to relate to others?”
He dragged his gaze back up to meet hers, one brow rising as he tried to follow her thought process.
“Well…” She pushed up on her toes, bringing their faces closer together. Her hands wove over his shoulders and clasped behind his neck. “There is one thing I’d like to experience.”
His breath hitched then fanned warm over her face. “What’s that?”
By degrees she leaned in. “My first kiss.”
His hand lifted to cup the side of her face, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip. “You are so beautiful. From the moment we met, I was captivated. But I’d never want to rush you or do anything that would make you uncomfortable.”
“Stop being a monk and kiss her already, you blighter!”
The wretched curse of her fair complexion caused her cheeks to heat, but she grinned in spite of the reminder of an audience. “You heard him. Kiss me, you blighter.”
“As you Southerners say, yes, ma’am.” His head lowered and her eyes slid shut just as his lips softly brushed against hers.
Nothing could have prepared her for that moment. For the electric shock that zapped through her body. The warmth pooling in her center. The sense of rightness and completeness the mere touching of their lips created.
Tentatively at first, and then with conviction, she moved her mouth against his. Testing. Tasting. Giving. Receiving. With her lips, but without words, she confessed her love and sealed it with the promise of things to come.
A cheer erupted around them, bringing her back to the present. They both grinned, their mouths reluctant to separate. With more effort than she thought would be necessary, she pulled back and shyly smiled up at Seth.
“In case you didn’t get the message, I love you too,” she said.
He settled her against his chest and pressed a kiss against her temple. “Thank you for not making me wait too long, luv.” Then he leaned back and winked. “But remember who said it first and therefore scored the opening point.”
She pulled out of his arms and twisted her lips into a saucy smirk. Walking past him, she stopped at the ball that had rolled a few feet away. With the tip of her toes, she rocked it back and scooped it up onto the top of her foot. She volleyed the ball into the air and kept it from hitting the ground by bouncing it off one knee and then the other. She vaulted it higher in the air. Right before the ball hit the ground, she kicked it into a perfect arc toward the net.
Turning, she met Seth’s gaze with a grin. “Game on.”
Epilogue
England, One Month Later
“That’s Seth Marshall.”
Amber understood the awe laced in that pronouncement. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get over the sense of wonderment at the thought that the man beside her loved her. It was everything she’d ever read in books or heard from other girls. Butterflies in the stomach. Weak in the knees. And when they kissed? More fireworks than the Fourth of July.
She understood his public life, but fandom didn’t give other people rights to Seth. Plus, Hawkins knew better. She’d given all the guys at Rivendall fair warning and threats to be on their best behavior.
She glared over her shoulder at the infantry veteran suffering from a traumatic brain injury, forcing her lips to not tip up at the little boy hero worship in his gaze. What was it with Brits and soccer? Although, to be fair, she probably looked at Seth that way too. “Eyes in your head, Hawkins.”
Hawkins just grinned back unabashed.
Amber rolled her eyes. She’d bring Seth around to meet the guys after her bridesmaid obligations were over. She’d promised—both the men and women at Rivendall as well as Seth.
Had it really been a month since she’d started volunteering at the manor? She’d originally come to help Jack with wedding plans, but somehow that had morphed into ministering to the men and women who resided at the manor while they healed and recovered from their time in the armed services. Once the stately home of an earl, the grounds had been transformed as a legacy to Mrs. Abbott’s heroic WWII-fighting grandparents.
Her short time at Rivendall had been restorative to her as well. Never had she been so sure of what God wanted her to do with her life. Of who He wanted her to do life with.
She watched as Seth shook the hand of yet another person, all graciousness and humility. He cut a fine figure in his tailored tuxedo, his lean athletic body filling the suit out in all the right places. She was used to seeing him in trainers, flushed and perspiring. Either way—sweaty or cleaned up—he caused a thrill to shoot through her middle straight to her heart.
“Stop stealing the spotlight, Marshall.” Adam walked up and nudged Seth with an elbow. The lingering crowd hoping to have a word with the soccer star and snap a selfie dissipated. “The bride is going to kill you for robbing the show, and I don’t have any qualms about saying I am scared of that woman.”
Trent and his wife Summer joined them. “That’s because she could whip your backside.”
“You boys are incorrigible.” Summer shook her head. “Jack is tough, but she has to be to marry into this crazy family.”
“She’s a sweetheart.” Olivia, Adam’s girlfriend smiled.
Adam kissed her temple. “You would know.”
“Leave Seth alone.” Amber threaded her arm through Seth’s. “He didn’t ask for everyone to notice him. In fact, we would both love it if the gawking would stop. But fame comes with the territory, and he can’t help it if he’s the best striker known to soccer.” She patted him on his black lapels, staring up at him with a smile. “Besides, I don’t blame them for staring. I can’t keep my eyes off him either.”
Trent made gaging noises. “Please stop. We’re happy you found love and all, but you’re still our little sister.”
Michael and Jack strolled over from the photographer hand-in-hand.
“That was a beautiful ceremony, guys.” Olivia dabbed at her eye with a tissue.
“Oh?” Michael’s brows rose. “I wasn’t sure anyone was paying attention. Seemed like our guests were too busy whispering behind their programs about old Seth here.” He winked at Amber.
Amber knew her brothers were teasing, but she could feel Seth’s mounting anxiety in the squeeze of his hand. He’d been worried about today. Afraid her brothers wouldn’t accept him or some such crazy notion. She found it sweet, that the guy the world adored was concerned about the approval of her family. She’d tried to assure him that they’d love him as much as she did. That it had been Michael who’d given her a nudge—or a swift kick in the pants—to finally admit her feelings in the first place.
His palm dampened against hers.
“I’m sorry if I was a distraction.” He eased his fingers from her grip, brow low over his deep-set eyes. He cast her an unsure look. “Maybe it would be best if I left now so everyone can celebrate the bride and groom.”
Adam glanced away sheepishly. “Ah, we’re just messing with you, Marshall.”
“Yeah, man. If you’re going to be a part of this family, then you need to lighten up.” This from Trent.
“Like I said. Incorrigible.” Summer’s lips twisted, her eyes shining with love for her husband despite his penchant for teasing.
“Are my children behaving?” Anita Carrington sauntered over, her husband George in tow.
“Do we ever?” Michael leaned to the side and kissed her cheek.
“Don’t worry, Seth.” Jack smiled and swayed closer to Michael. Despite her insistence that no one ever use her given name of Jacqueline, she looked stunning in a white Jackie O-inspired vintage satin wedding gown. “Consider whatever it is these guys pestered you with as a sort of initiation into the family.”
Summer nodded. “Mine was at a Fourth of July barbeque.”
“Family game night,” Olivia chimed in.
Amber rose up on her toes and whispered into Seth’s ear, “It means they like you, honey.” She gave him a peck on the cheek.
Seth studied her family. “We’re good?”
Adam held out his hand and gave Seth a firm shake. “You’re aces in my book, mate.”
“These Carrington men.” Olivia groaned at Adam’s horrible attempt at a British accent. “You can’t help but love them.”
“Hey!” Adam protested. “At least I didn’t use one of my witty puns on him.”
Trent’s turn to groan. “And for that we are all eternally grateful.”
Seth leaned down to whisper in Amber’s ear. “Did I miss something there?”
“All my brothers think they’re funny.” She grinned up at him. “In reality their humor is severely lacking.”
“Now who has jokes?” Adam asked. “Oh wait, that would still be me.” A mischievous glint entered his eye. “A reformed soccer player and a theology major walk into a bar—”