Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Grady

Hard to believe it's been a year since Annika burst back into my life, but here we are.

Back at the softball fields.

She might live in Shipwreck now, but she's still a Sarcasm native who drives home to see her mama and sister at least five times every week—sometimes with me, sometimes without me—and she's once again playing for the GOATs.

The Greatest Of All Times.

She's my greatest of all time.

And here I am, staring her down as I wind up to toss her the first pitch.

"Don't you dare go easy on me," she calls as she steps up to the plate at the top of the third inning. We're tied, zero to zero, naturally. "I will end you if I think you're just being nice."

I grin, because she's all talk.

"That's not what you said last night."

"Shut up and pitch the ball, Rock," Georgia calls.

Tillie Jean audibly gags behind me.

I toss the pitch, and Annika lets it go right by.

It's rare she swings on the first pitch.

Only time she did, she racked me in the nuts, so I'm good with her letting a strike go by, even if she could've knocked it halfway to Copper Valley.

"C'mon, Grady. Give me a tough one," she calls.

I'm physically incapable of tossing her a tough pitch. Not when she smiles at me like that. The whole diamond is lit up with her glow.

Her mama and sister are cheering in the stands. Roger's there too, a permanent staple in their lives who's turned his plumbing business over to Birch, his son, so he can help Maria more in the bakery. Liliana from the winery and Hazel from Rise and Grind in Sarcasm are both in the dug-out, cheering, along with Birch.

I toss another pitch at Annika, and she swings and misses.

On purpose, I'm positive.

Two strikes.

That's not gonna do.

"Don't even think about it," she calls to me.

"Says the woman who whiffed on purpose."

"Like I'd do that."

"Oh, you absolutely would."

There's no heat in our banter this year.

Other than the I want to take you home and get you naked heat.

"Substitute pitcher!" my dad yells.

"I have two strikes on her," I yell back.

"But you're about to throw her three balls."

"Rawk! Three balls is one too many! Rawk!"

Annika grins.

And fuck it.

I'm not going to strike her out, and Dad knows it.

I pull my glove off and toss it in the dirt.

She frowns and steps back from the plate.

"He's right," I tell her. "I'm just gonna toss you a few balls to make myself feel better."

"Rawk! Grow some balls! Rawk!"

"He's right too," I say with a nod to the parrot.

She laughs and shakes her head. "Your balls are fine. I promise."

"No, no, they've been letting me down lately."

"Over-personal much?" Georgia calls.

"Did not need to know that," Tillie Jean agrees behind me.

Like they don't know what I'm talking about.

I stroll off the pitcher's mound and head for home plate.

"It's true," I tell Annika. "Time to man up."

Her brows furrow like she honestly has no idea what I'm up to.

Or what's wrong with my balls.

"Are you okay?" she asks when I'm halfway to home plate. She glances back at the umpire, like she's afraid he's going to call me off-sides, though that's not actually a thing in softball.

"I need to tell you something."

"Can it wait?"

Her teammates are starting to spill out of the dugout like they're expecting a brawl.

Georgia pulls her mask off and tries unsuccessfully to stifle a huge grin, and I know several of my teammates are pulling in closer to watch.

When I hatched this plan, I thought I'd be sweating.

But the only thing giving me any pause at all is the sudden worry clouding Annika's eyes.

"Nope. Can't wait. Not one more minute."

"Grady—"

I don't let her finish, and instead take her hand, while she's still gripping the bat in the other, and I drop to one knee.

"I love you—" I start, and that's as far as I get before realization dawns and she drops her bat and tackles me to the ground, kissing me and shouting, " Yes! " before I can even ask.

"Will—you—" I try again.

She grabs my cheeks and presses her lips to mine. " Yes ," she says again.

She's laughing and straddling me and kissing me, not letting me get a word out.

I can't even get to my pocket for her ring.

"You—you—you perfect man," she gasps as she finally lets me go. "You scared me half to death. I thought you had a problem with your—with your—with your balls. And that would've been awful. I still would've loved you, but I would've been very sad for both of us."

I cradle her neck and pull her close. "Can I please ask you to marry me now."

"Can I say yes?"

"Again? Are you sure?"

She laughs and hugs me tighter. "I love you so much."

"I love you more."

"You better. Because I'm going to score a home run on you. Right now."

And because she's Annika…that's exactly what she does.

On the field. In the softball game.

But she scores a home run later too.

When we're alone.

And I promise her we'll never stop scoring home runs for as long as we both live.

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