A buzzing sounded in Brody’s ears. He’d almost stopped listening after the part where she’d said she loved him.
But MacArthur’s expression had softened toward Amanda, and that was all the faith Brody needed.
MacArthur turned to Brody. “Do you love my daughter?” he boomed.
“With all my heart, sir,” Brody answered.
“If you hurt her,” MacArthur said, tapping Brody in the chest with each syllable he made, “I promise you will live to regret it.”
As if there was any chance of that happening. “Not a problem, sir.”
Amanda beamed at him, probably because MacArthur had actually walked away from the fight. He was heading out of the press conference and past the last row of cameramen, who were waiting patiently for Brody to return to the business at hand.
Let them wait. He had more important things to attend to. Whatever baggage Amanda came with, he was willing to accept. She’d accepted him even though his father was in prison, hadn’t she?
He clasped Amanda’s hands. “You handled MacArthur better than anyone I’ve ever seen.”
She gave Brody a wistful smile. “It won’t be easy having him in my life. Like you said, he’s always playing a chess game in his head. But, having him estranged from me, while still on good terms with Jeannie, is worse than having to walk on eggshells around him.”
“For you, Amanda, I’ll walk on eggshells.”
She laughed, a dimple appearing in her cheek. “I’m warning you, they might get sharp sometimes.”
“Yeah, and it’s a challenge I accept.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “If you’ll have me, I’ll battle through snowstorms for you.”
“And carry me through avalanches?” Her eyes were twinkling.
“There are no avalanches in Manhattan.”
Her mouth opened and closed, but for a moment no words came out. “What are you saying?”
Brody cupped her cheek in his hand. “That I’ll live wherever you want. In New York, anywhere. Starting today. Just…say that you forgive me.”
“You’d die in Manhattan,” she said softly.
“Not with you, I won’t.”
Tears were forming in her eyes. He didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, and he started to worry.
“Brody, I think it’s best you stay on the tour for the season like you’ve committed to your team.”
“Amanda, I’ve already talked with them, and—”
She put her finger to his lips. “I know. And after we return from the tour, both of us together, I want to live in New Hampshire,” she whispered. “In your house that you told me about.”
“In my…”
“I want to go home. With you.” She laughed, and tears rolled down her cheeks. He promptly wiped them away with his thumbs.
He would renovate that house, just like Hans had, now that he would be living there full-time. And it was fitting that he live there with Amanda. He’d never forget their days and nights stuck in a snowstorm in the mountains.
“I’m sorry, Brody. Walking out on you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I only did it because I loved you.”
“Loved? As in past tense?”
She bit her lip, making his heart stop beating. “Past, present and future. Even more so since you risked everything to do what’s right for yourself.”
He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and take her home with him as fast as he could. He settled for a kiss.
While they kissed, applause came from the assembled reporters. But he could only look at Amanda.
Never again would he worry about what he had to prove. About medals or coaches or the past or what might have been.
Because all that mattered was here and now, in his arms.
EPILOGUE
A Year Later
AMANDA OPENED THE FLAPS of the cardboard box from her publisher. There it was, the promotional copies of Brody’s story. Her first sports biography, with two more on contract for an Olympic sprinter and a gymnast, both clients of Harrison’s.
She danced a little jig and then held the hardcover book against her chest, grinning from ear to ear. This was her first book. And it was all the more special because of Brody’s help.
He saw her hopping round the foyer, and his face broke out in a grin, too. He’d already helped her by reading the galleys, so he knew the book as inside-out as she did. “Timely,” he said. “You can take a copy to your sister.”
“Jeannie will be thrilled.”
“Are you ready to go?” He held up their suitcases. Outside, the car service had arrived to take them to Boston’s Logan Airport. From there, they would travel on an international flight to Milan, where they would spend two weeks visiting her sister, Massimo and her new baby niece, Ava.
“The question is, are you ready?” She twirled the hanger containing her wedding dress, enclosed in a garment bag.
He leaned over and kissed her. “I was born ready.”
“I know that, Coach Jones, but are you ready to marry a writer?”
He nibbled her ear. “No garter thingies, right? You promised me.”
“None,” she breathed.
“And that thing with selling off the bride to dance with other guys? We’re not doing that, either.”
“No buste,” she agreed.
“Good,” he murmured, gathering her close and kissing her more deeply. “Because I’m not interested in sharing you.”
She held him for a long time, her hot skier. It was hard to believe that once upon a time, he’d been the last man she’d ever imagined marrying. Now, she couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else. “It will be the happiest day of my life.” She ran a hand up his hard biceps and licked her lips. His pupils dilated.
“Uh, Manda, the car service sent a limo,” he said. “You know, with one of those solid walls that raises between us and the driver. Are you game?”
Yes, she was a very lucky woman.
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781459219830
Copyright © 2012 by Cathryn Parry
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