A strange expression crossed Max's face then, worry or even fear. But then it cleared and he laughed, shaking his head. "Forget it."
"So you're going to ask her, right?" Erica asked me again when Max had gone inside.
"Yeah," I said, knowing Erica was right. I might as well fulfill the birthright now that I'd found Sophie, and my family had practically married us off already anyway. I knew the second I told them I'd proposed they'd be buying tickets to San Diego though, bringing the madness of the Feats along with them, and I wondered if maybe we could enjoy another quiet week or two first.
Erica bounced on her toes and squealed, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm so excited!"
I found I was excited too. Sophie would be mine. Forever. Of course there was the small task of actually asking the question. Would she think it was too quick? Though really, it had been almost thirty years of dating—depending how you categorized dating.
The idea of asking her to be mine, to spend her life with me, sent my mind into a nervous cyclone, pulling up every insecurity and curious what-if I'd ever come up with where Sophie was concerned. What if she didn't really want me? What if she had other plans for her life now that she'd seen what life in the US could be like? What if... My guts churned and my nerves battered my insides.
No, I thought. I could do this.
I just needed to make a phone call first.
Chapter 100
Sorry For Your Loss
Hamish
"Hallo?" Charlie's voice was thick with sleep, and I cursed myself for forgetting the time difference once again.
"Sorry, Charlie. It's Hamish."
"I'm assuming you're dead. I can't think of any other reason why you'd be calling me at this ungodly hour. I'm sorry for your loss."
"I'm not dead," I said, as if that wasn't evident.
He sighed and I could hear the ruffling of what I assumed were blankets, along with my sister in law's voice. "Shhh, go back to sleep. It's my bloody brother."
"That's uncalled for."
"What is it, Hamish? What do you need? I'm awake now." His voice was louder now, so I assumed he'd moved to another part of the house where he didn't run the risk of waking anyone.
I settled into the chair by my window, my heart swelling as I thought about my plans. "I'm asking her, Charlie. I'm going to ask Sophie to marry me."
"We expected as much." He sighed. "I checked in with Dad, and he talked to his brother."
Dad's brother. The king. "And?"
"You must ask Sophie's closest relative for her hand. And he has to be present at the Feats."
Anger threatened to force my voice from my lungs. I held it in. Maybe reason would work better. "That's ridiculous. You know he never looked after Soph like he should have. He isn't a good man."
"He was and is a drunk. I can't say beyond that. We don't know."
"Sophie does." Anger darkened my thoughts. Sophie had never told me explicitly that her father had mistreated her, but he had certainly neglected her after her mother had died.
"Ask her then. If she can say definitively that he harmed her as a girl, then maybe we can speak with Uncle Vlad again."
"Shouldn't it be enough for her to say she doesn't want him in her life? She changed her name, for blast's sake."
"I mentioned that already. Not enough, I'm afraid. Both bloodlines must witness." Charlie sounded tired again.
"He's not her blood," I bit out.
He made a noise that seemed to mean there was nothing to be done for it, and I fought to stay calm. I knew Soph wouldn't want her stepfather involved in any part of our wedding, but maybe I was getting ahead of myself. I had to ask her to marry me first.
"You'll need to ask for her hand."
"Ask him?" This was ridiculous.
"I'll email his number today. When I wake up. At a reasonable hour."
Charlie sounded about to hang up, but I felt like I could spend several hours more trying to convince him I didn't need to speak to Mr. James at all.
"Hamish," he added. "I'm glad for you, lad. Let me know when it's all arranged and we'll plan our trip."
"Thanks."
I hung up and stared out the window at the people on the sidewalks on either side of Market Street. I was just off the main drag, so the folks wandering by were coming or going from dinner and the bars. It made for good people watching, and seeing other people on their way to various places made me eager to get my own life moving as well.
I would not ask Sophie's stepfather for her hand. Whatever had happened between them had happened when she was young, and it had been enough to make her change her name. That was all I needed to know. Tradition be damned. Sophie and I would make our way. On our own terms.
Chapter 101
Would You Like Cake with That?
Sophie
I didn't see Hamish Sunday—I spent the morning assembling and delivering Jumpy and Jock's cake to the reception location in Rancho Bernardo. The wedding was underway when I arrived, taking place in the gazebo outside overlooking a golf course below. Jumpy—we called her that because she'd been highly agitated at our first meeting, nervous and uncertain about everything—looked gorgeous in a blush pink long gown. And Jock, her well-muscled fiancé, looked handsome and happy. I couldn't see their faces, but their joy was clear in the way they stared at each other at the front of the crowd, their hands locked together between them.
I hummed to myself as I finished the decorative touches on the cake, strewing the tabletop with the same flowers that cascaded down the side of the towering pastry.
I'd just finished up, said goodbye to the coordinator, and hopped back into my delivery van, when my phone rang. Hamish's voice rang out over the speakers as I drove.
"Hello love," he said, and a warm buzz spread through me from my fingers to my toes.
"Hello."
"What are you up to this afternoon? Do you have time to see me?"
"I just finished work. I'm free. What did you have in mind?"
"It's a beautiful day, want to take a walk with me?"
I'd been so busy all morning I hadn't really noticed the bright warmth of the sun flooding my windshield. "That sounds perfect."
"Can I pick you up?" he asked.
"What time?"
We made plans to meet at three, and I returned the van to the shop and then went home to shower and change. At three, I waited, sitting on the bottom of the stairs that led up to my apartment. Hamish's big truck pulled in, and my heart lifted just at the knowledge that I'd be seeing him momentarily. I'd felt happier these last few days than I had in my life.
We drove out to Point Loma, Hamish parking the truck at Ocean Beach.
We strolled, hand in hand, along the beach, pausing for a bit to watch the dogs play on the leash-free part of the sandy expanse, dodging waves and other dogs and rolling in the water.
After a bit, we were climbing to the long pier and following it out to its end, where it perched above the roiling ocean below. Hamish and I leaned over the thick wooden railing side by side, each of us staring down into the water for a while
The sun beat on our backs, and though there was a light cool breeze, the sunshine permeated every cell of my body, making me feel light and free. I turned to smile at Hamish, to find him looking at me uncertainly.
A little sliver of worry slipped through me. "What is it?" I asked him.
Hamish's boyish grin returned. "No, it's nothing, lass. It's just hard to believe you're here. That we're here. Like this."
I pressed myself into his arms then, nestling my face against his neck and breathing in the scent of him. Home. Hamish would always smell like home.
He wrapped me in his arms, but then I felt him step back, cold air sweeping between us.
Hamish cleared his throat and gave me that odd look again, his eyes darting to me and then down to his feet.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Sophie," he said, and there was something formal in the way he said my name, laying it
out carefully between us. "I can't tell you how happy I am to have found you again."
"Me too, Hamish, I—"
Hamish lowered himself to the wood planks of the pier, settling on one knee before me and taking my hand in his. "I always dreamed the world would bring me back to you, that it would find us together again someday. I always hoped that there would be a time when I'd be able to kneel before you and ask you to be my bride."
Surprise and joy danced inside me, making words difficult to find. I hadn't expected this, not yet. I couldn't find any words, so I just took his hand as he reached for me.
"Will you do me the honor, Sophie? Will you marry me?"
"Oh my god," I breathed. "I..." This was soon. This was so soon I hadn't really had time to process that we were together again, that we were dating, forget getting engaged. I'd spent the last days fighting off doubt, wondering if I could trust my heart, if I could believe in what I'd always thought to be true. And here he was asking. I couldn't say no, even if something felt just a tiny bit off, a bit rushed. It was Hamish. "Of course I will." The words came naturally despite my surprise. I'd never imagined anything different. Hamish was my heart and my home, and while this was happening faster than I might have expected, it was right. I knew it was. "Of course I will," I repeated.
Hamish whooped loudly and leapt to his feet, pulling me into his arms and swinging me in a circle. When he set me back on my feet, he kissed me long and hard, and the few other people meandering around the end of the pier gazed at us with smiles. One woman called out, "congratulations!"
We walked back to the foot of the pier, our hands and hearts linked, and my feet barely touching the ground. As we reached the end, something occurred to me. "Hamish, did you ask my stepfather?" I didn't have love for the man, but I knew we had to abide by tradition—mostly because Hamish's family would demand it. And a man like Aaron James would want to be asked, even if he didn't care about me either. He wanted to feel important, to be given the respect he hadn't earned, except in name.
"No, lass. I'm asking you."
"He'll be angry," I said, thinking of my stepfather's red face. The man had never hit me, never hurt me except through his total disregard. But he'd scared me. "Ask him now?" I suggested. I hadn't spoken to the man recently, but I knew it was tradition. And Aaron James, my stepfather, stood on tradition as if his life depended on it.
Hamish looked down at me, seeming to consider this. "I'll tell him. But a man who never looked after you like he should has no say in your future."
I nodded. Though I worried about what he might say, how he might react, Hamish's words felt true. My stepfather would accept our engagement. He had to. There was little he could do about it anyway, from seven thousand miles away.
"Will we go home then? To be married? And what of the Feats?" I asked.
A look passed over Hamish's usually open face that I couldn't read. "There'll be time to worry about the details. For now, I just want to enjoy our engagement."
When he pulled me into his arms again to kiss me, I decided that I agreed. There'd be time to worry later. For now, I was going to let myself be happy and ignore the strange warning I felt flashing in my gut.
Chapter 102
Stepfathers and Sheep
Hamish
I'd always enjoyed weekends—lately because weekends usually meant matches during the season, and no matter how old I got, the game still got my blood flowing like nothing else. I knew I was lucky to play, and being part of a team like the Sharks made me feel like the luckiest fecker there was. But this weekend? This weekend the woman I loved, the girl I'd loved my whole life, had agreed to marry me.
She couldn't stay over Sunday night, though I begged her to, telling me she needed to be up early to bake Monday morning. But she'd left me with a kiss to remember and a promise to meet me for dinner the next night.
I parked after dropping her off. We might or might not have spent a little extra time at her place after the drop off, but I won't confirm or deny that because I am a gentleman. The walk to my apartment from my parking spot around the corner wasn't long, but I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I didn't even register it until I was at the foot of the stairs up to my door again, glancing into the dark little space below. Madame Anastasia sat there as always, giving me a knowing look that creeped me out like nothing else possibly could.
With a shiver, I dashed upstairs and pulled the door shut tight, though I didn't think the woman would actually follow me up the stairs. Better safe than sorry, I figured as I threw together a quick dinner. Then I settled in to read for a while. If I stayed up until midnight, calling home would be acceptable. My sister would surely be up by seven, Durnish time.
And she was.
"Little lad," she cooed, answering the phone. "Charlie said you'd have news the next time we heard from you. Do you?"
"Aye, I do." The grin that covered my face was clear in my voice, and I knew telling Mari about the engagement was a mere formality.
"I'm so happy for you, Hamish," she cried. "And for Sophie. Will you tell her to call me now that you're together again? We can all be friends again, can't we? Just like it was?"
"I hope so," I told her.
"Will you be coming home then?" she asked. "Or are you going to make poor stiff Charlie travel halfway around the world?"
"He already said he was coming, I might as well let him come."
"But you'll get married here? At home?"
"I don't know," I told her. "Not if it has to happen before December, I won't. I've got games most weekends starting in February, and the season starts in March. I can't leave the country then."
"Hmm." Mari sounded disappointed."How big is your place? Can we all stay with you?"
I looked around my two room apartment, chuckling. "No, definitely not," I told her. "It's a tight squeeze for me by myself."
"I guess we'd better find a hotel, then," she said.
"You're ahead of yourself. I just asked her today."
"But we'll need to witness the Feats, Hamish. And if it means we all travel halfway around the world, then I'd expect the wedding will follow right after."
"Well, I don't know about the wedding, but I suppose you're right about the Feats." I sighed. "I haven't spoken to Mr. James."
Mari was silent. "You didn't ask him first?"
This again. I knew it had been breaking with tradition, but I was surprised how vehemently my siblings seemed ready to defend the man's ridiculous right to give away a daughter he never cared for in the first place. "I'll call the man later today. Unlike you, he might not be eager for a seven AM call."
"You mistake resignation for eagerness."
"You love me."
"I do." She sighed. "I'm happy for you Hamish. Just speak with Mr. James before he finds out some other way."
"Aye." I hung up the phone, the excitement of the day slowly washing through me as the clock ticked toward twelve-thirty. My fatigue, combined with my reluctance to speak to Sophie's stepfather, had me putting the call off until morning, and I fell into bed, happiness at the knowledge that Sophie would be my wife spreading over me like a warm blanket.
The phone rang at six o'clock AM, pulling me from a dead sleep.
"'Lo?" I managed, lifting the phone to my face as sleep fogged my mind.
"Ye right bloody bastard." An angry voice greeted me, and I knew immediately who was on the other end of the line.
"Mr. James," I said, sitting up and rubbing a hand over my jaw. I should have called the man before I'd fallen asleep, but now it was too late. "How are you sir?"
"I'd be loads better if you weren't tiptoeing around trying to take my daughter from right under my nose," he said, his voice still furious.
Fury threatened to color my tone too, but I pushed down the anger I felt, angry at him referring to Sophie as his, as if she were a piece of property or a tool he might loan out.
"I'd planned to call you today, sir," I said, forcing a civility into my tone that I did not feel.
"To ask for your daughter's hand." In the heat of the moment, I decided to give the man what I knew he wanted. I'd planned to simply inform him of our plans, but I had a feeling Mr. James would do his best to make life miserable for anyone near him, whinging about the wrong of it all. And those nearest him were my family. I bit back my pride for them.
"A little late, I hear," he said bitterly.
"Ah, yes, I'm sorry for that."
"It's true then? She said yes, did she?"
Even in his angry voice the reminder of Sophie's acceptance sounded incredible. "Aye, sir. She did."
"So I expect you'll be rushing things then, hoping to get yer royal inheritance all locked up?" There was a note of something besides anger in his voice now, something I didn't like.
"No rush," I said.
"Not what I hear."
Damn those highland gossips. I could only imagine how Mr. James found out in the first place. Mari and Charlie discussing it, now doubt, and either little ears nearby or maybe one of the lads who helped out with the animals had caught wind of it. In a country as small as Durnland, everyone was a gossip, and no news was too small. But technically, this wouldn't be small news. I knew I was something of a favorite son for the country, since there were few Durnish celebrities or well-known athletes.
I was quiet a moment too long, and Mr. James saw his opening.
"Your brother has offered to allow me to accompany him to witness the Feats, and attend the ceremony."
I shook my head slowly. "Neither of those things has been planned. We have time—"
"What you have, son, is a fiancee I may or may not allow to take your hand, and a whole mess of Durns coming over to watch."
"Respectfully, sir, Sophie's already agreed."
"And I don't care about that," he said, his voice growing sharp again. "It's not her place to agree. It's mine, and you conveniently overlooked that. So I'll be coming along to make sure you've got my Sophie's best interests at heart. I won't have her thrust into some union of convenience just so you can keep your place in line for the crown."
Mr. Match: The Boxed Set Page 51