by G. K. Brady
He let her linger and ogle the space a while longer before he showed her the rest of the house. He felt like a kid on Christmas morning, and every expression, every word, every reaction from her were his presents to open—and he couldn’t wait.
They finally came to a stop in the airy great room and kitchen. He spread his arms wide. “So picture family dinners with you, me, Archer, Mom, Dad, Gage, Lily, and Daisy. Plenty of room for everyone. What do you think?”
Sarah folded her hands on the granite island counter and looked around with an expression he could only describe as awe. “I love it,” she whispered reverently.
“More than the others we’ve looked at?”
She positively beamed. “Absolutely.”
Quinn executed an inner fist pump. Scored again! Yes!
From his cargo shorts pocket, he extracted three objects. His heart rate kicked up a few notches, and he started to juggle. Sarah glanced at him and smirked. “Didn’t get in enough juggling at the picnic?”
He kept his eyes fixed on the items looping through the air. “Nope.”
She poked her head in cabinets and took another tour around the great room before stopping in front of him. Folding her arms across her chest, she tracked the circling objects. “Are you nervous today or just fidgety, Sparks?” she teased.
“Honestly? A little of both,” he murmured.
He could feel her heat as she drew closer. “Why?” Her eyes continued following the motion. Without waiting for his answer, she pointed at one of the items spinning in midair. “What’s that?”
Quinn snatched it, letting the others thud to the floor. “You mean this?” He opened his palm and presented her a small box.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth parted. “What is it?”
“Open it and find out.”
She stretched her fingers toward it, then snatched them back as if they were about to be sacrificed to a set of pointy fangs.
“Open it,” he urged. Excitement and nervousness twined inside him.
Curiosity lit her eyes as she plucked it out of his open palm. Oh so carefully, she opened the lid. He pulled in a breath that he nursed in his chest. She let out a gasp, and those wide, glittering hazel eyes drilled into him. “Is this … are you …?”
“Yes, that’s an engagement ring, and yes, I’m proposing.” No way did he want this girl to get away from him.
Stunned, she stared at the ring, then at him, and back again.
He pointed at the open box. “And that goes”—he twirled his finger in the air—“with the house.” Then he opened his arms wide. “And me. A total package. If you don’t like the house or the ring, we’ll trade them for something else. But I have a no-trade clause.”
Her diamond-bright eyes shimmered with tears. “It’s so beautiful.” Her fingertips played over the round brilliant stone sparkling in a platinum band set with smaller diamonds, but she didn’t pick it up.
Plucking the ring from its velvet nest, he took her left hand in his and held it to the tip of her ring finger. Then he swallowed. “Please say yes.”
In those glittering eyes danced mischief. “What’s the question?”
Killing me here, Sunshine. He was sweating bullets and praying he didn’t give himself away with some embarrassing blunder. This was more nerve-racking than going into overtime in game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals with a zero-zero tie—which he’d done only recently, so he knew.
He cleared his throat to keep his voice from sliding up an octave or three. “Sarah Sunshine Nelson, I love you.” His hand shook as he slid the ring on.
It looked huge on her small finger, and a giggle escaped her. “Nothing halfway.”
So maybe I overdid it. “Nothing halfway, ever, babe,” he agreed. He tipped her chin up, and they locked gazes. He could barely catch his breath or coat his desert-dry throat for drowning in her hazel depths. “Please marry me? That’s the question.”
Her head bobbed vigorously, but nothing came out of her mouth. Tears coursed over her cheeks. Finally, in a voice so choked with emotion he barely heard her, she said, “I wouldn’t trade you. Ever.”
He caught her as she leapt into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. “I love you,” she breathed against his neck. God, it felt so right having her pasted against him.
Laughing, he spun them. “Does this mean yes?”
“Yes, it means yes! Do you need me to spell it out on T-shirts?”
“Oh Jesus. I’m scared to ask, but what would the T-shirts say?”
“Yours would say, ‘I Asked,’ and mine would say, ‘I Said Yes.’” She crinkled her nose. “Too cheesy?”
“Cute, but I think yours should say, ‘I’m His So Back Off,’ and mine should say, ‘She’s Mine. Best Score of my Life.’”
THE END
Thank you so much for reading The Winning Score. If you enjoyed Quinn and Sarah’s story, please take a few moments to leave a review on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08HNCNNLY, or any of your favorite book review sites. You would make me oh-so-happy.
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Acknowledgments
To my readers, who make this so much fun for me. Keep those emails and comments coming. I eat them up!
To Risa B., for patiently fielding my questions and generously sharing your experience as a structural engineer … and for taking such good care of my son.
To Stephanie H., for designing and babying my website and social media. Your creativity is amazing, as are your organizational skills. You make me look good!
To the Marbles and the non-Marbles (you know who you are), thank you for your invaluable critiques.
To Jodi B., thank you for your swift and honest feedback. And thanks especially for fearlessly slapping my characters around when they needed it most.
To Jenny Q, my editor and cover designer, thank you always for your expertise, your intuition, and your generosity. It really does take a village to write a book, and I’m so glad you’re in my village!
To HippoCampus Publishing (aka Persnickety), for the sound-barrier-breaking speed at getting this story turned around, and for all those little bubbles that hold your suggestions and humor, which I always appreciate. Thank you for making me laugh out loud, especially when things aren’t so funny.
And always, to my husband, Tim, my rock. You are as steadfast as your father was. What a way to carry on his legacy. I don’t know how you put up with me, but please don’t ever stop.
Also by this Author
The Playmakers Series
Book One - Taming Beckett
Book Two - Third Man In
Book Three - Gauging the Player
Coming Winter 2020/2021: Book Five in The Playmakers Series is Dave and Ellie’s story. If you’re interested in reading an ARC, or want to receive updates about its release, sign up for my mailing list here: https://www.griffin-brady.com/contact/ or email me at [email protected]
Historical Fiction
The Heart of a Hussar (Book 1 of 2)
A Hussar’s Promise (Coming Nov. 2020)
About the Author
Since childhood, all sorts of stories and characters have lived in G.K. Brady’s imagination, elbowing one another for attention, so she’s thrilled (as are they) to be giving them their voice on the written page.
An award-winning writer of contemporary romance, she loves telling tales of the less-than-perfect hero or heroine who transforms with each turn of a page.
G.K. is a wife and the proud mom of three grown sons. She also writes his
torical fiction under the pen name Griffin Brady. She currently resides in Colorado with her very patient husband.