Page 37 of Delay of Game (Norwalk Breakers #4)

EPILOGUE

One and a half seasons later...

Rob pulled at his bow tie, loosening the collar of his shirt while we waited for the elevator to return to the parking garage.

I batted his hand away, smoothing the tie and running my palms down his shirt. “Don’t mess with it.”

“I hate it,” he grumbled. “I look like a penguin.”

“You look like an incredibly handsome penguin.”

He rolled his eyes, hiding a smirk. “You ladies, on the other hand, look phenomenal.”

Mila preened in the reflection of the elevator door, admiring the full-length pink ballgown we’d picked out. One that Rob had unsuccessfully tried to talk her out of for something with sleeves and a Purtian-like neckline.

His hand snaked up my back, knuckles brushing over bare skin. The slinky red dress was nothing I would have picked out on my own. Cassie called an emergency meeting of the Breakers’ wives and girlfriends after Trent Vogt’s girlfriend, Kit, asked if a black jersey dress was fancy enough for tonight.

Even though it had pockets, the answer was a resounding no.

While Cassie and Lena talked Kit into an emerald-green, A-line gown encrusted with crystals on the top with a price tag that shocked us both into silence, I fell in love with a satin dress with a plunging neckline, no back, and a high slit.

And apparently, Rob loved it too because he hadn’t stopped touching me since I put it on or whispering about how badly he wanted to take it off.

I reached behind me, intertwining our fingers and shooting him a grin. “Later,” I mouthed.

“Fine.” He pulled me closer, untangling our fingers and wrapping his arm around my waist.

“How late do you think we’ll be up?” Mila asked as the elevator reached us with a ding.

“An hour?” Rob guessed as I said, “Past midnight. Gloria is going to take you and Kalani up to a hotel room for a sleepover so we can stay out.”

Mila frowned, but didn’t argue. “Where is Gigi, anyway?”

Rob ushered us into the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor. “She’ll join us for the ceremony. She’s on a date.”

I leaned my head against his chest, listening to his pounding heart. “Take a breath.”

He inhaled slowly and then exhaled, closing his eyes. “I”m fine.”

I shrugged. “It’s a big deal. It’s okay to be a little nervous.”

“Last one, best one, Daddy!” Mila exclaimed as the elevator doors opened.

Photographer flashes blinded us as a woman dressed in black wearing a Breaker’s badge and a headset intercepted us from the photographers. “This way to the red carpet. Stop on the four dots on the floor for pictures. If we can get just Mr. Grant on the fourth dot, that’d be great.”

Rob tensed. I rubbed his back. “We can handle that. Four stops, Rob only on the fourth.”

Mila quivered with excitement, pulling us onto the carpet. The flashes only intensified as a rush of reporters called our names. Rob’s hands were clammy on my back, jaw set in a straight line even as Mila beamed bright enough for all of us.

“Let’s try a few of them with you smiling,” I teased, brushing my lips over his cheek and getting at least a faint impression of a smile out of him.

“I hate this so much,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Last time, best time,” I repeated Mila’s mantra through the last season. Last time playing a pre-season game. Last home game. Last championship. Last Super Bowl. Last Norwalk Breakers event.

He nodded. “Better enjoy it then, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

Mila and I stood by while Rob posed for the cameras. The reporters eagerly shouted out questions. What do you plan to do next? Will you be wearing a New England jersey next season? Did the Breakers cut you? Is this a retirement or a transfer?

He ignored them all until the woman with the headset told him he could move on.

For the ring ceremony, the team had rented out an opera house in Norwalk’s historic city center. A pair of men in tuxedos opened up the doors to the ballroom. We entered through the top of the grand staircase, looking down at the festivities.

Mila sucked in a breath, releasing it with a sigh. “It’s like a fairytale.”

I followed her gaze, similarly awestruck.

A peacock-colored carpet ushered us down the stairs and under an imposing crystal chandelier into the ballroom, decorated not only with polished wooden floors, high ceilings, and ornate gilding on the walls, but peacock and silver streamers, flowers, and decorations on every table and in every open space.

“It’s like prom,” Rob muttered. I elbowed him. “Fine, it’s like a very fancy prom. Fairytale prom.”

The owner of the Norwalk Breakers and a line of coaches stood at the bottom of the steps, welcoming Rob with a handshakes and an attempted hug or two that he easily sidestepped.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Coach Simmons asked him with a sad smile. “Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay another season or two?”

Rob shook his head. “I got my ring. There are worse things than going out on top.”

“Not even as a coach?”

“Hell no,” Rob laughed. “I trained my replacement. That’s all you’re getting from me.”

“I had to ask.” Coach Simmons patted him on the back with a smile. “Enjoy your night.”

“He offered you a coaching position?” I took Rob’s arm, watching Mila as she bounded off into the sea of players and their loved ones. “You didn’t tell me that.”

Rob shrugged. “What’s to tell? I said no. I’d be a terrible coach.”

“I don’t think Ethan would agree.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not that clever. We’re sitting with Noa and Lena. Do you see them anywhere?” Rob narrowed his eyes, searching the crammed ballroom. “Over there.”

We waded through the sea of players and their loved ones, stopping every few seconds so another one of Rob’s teammates could express their shock and surprise that he hadn’t renewed his contract with the Breakers. Unlike the rest of his team, we’d had a season to prepare.

A week after the previous season had ended with the Breakers losing their conference championship, Rob sat the three of us down and told us this would be his last season. No tears. No drama. Just a determination to win the Super Bowl and go out on top.

“What about after?” Mila had asked, voice wavering.

He’d shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. Whatever comes next.”

“Rob!” Lena bounded up from the table with a surprising amount of grace for a woman in her last month of pregnancy. “I can’t believe you’re leaving us.”

“I’m not dying, Lena.” Rob accepted her hug at the same time Kalani wrapped herself around his leg.

He let go of Lena and prized her daughter off, holding out the pocket of his tux until she pilfered around inside, emerging with a pack of gummies.

“And as a retirement gift, management gave me a set of season tickets to home games.”

“He’s going to hate that,” I mock whispered to Lena.

“It’ll be a real pleasure to watch Rob Grant losing his mind from the stands instead of on the field,” Noa agreed, pulling Rob into a hug.

“Who else is sitting with us?” Rob shifted the conversation, nodding over to the two champagne flutes on the table.

“Ethan and Lily, but they’re grabbing a drink at the bar,” Noa said, scooping Kalani up into his arms. “Shouldn’t be much longer now. We were waiting for you to start.”

“And Trent.” Rob jerked his head back up to the staircase where Trent emerged in a peacock blue tuxedo, complete with a top hat and cane. Kit rolled her eyes at the top of the staircase, a smile on her lips. “That guy always has to make an entrance.”

“If we could have everyone in their seats,” the team owner announced over a microphone.

Dinner flew by in a blur. Gloria showed up in time for the entrees, and the kids stayed awake through the ring ceremony.

On the count of three, the entire team opened the boxes with their Super Bowl championship rings and the ballroom erupted in laughing, crying, and a startling amount of screaming.

Mila modeled Rob’s ring, putting it on two fingers and holding it up next to Noa’s.

Finally, Gloria whisked the kids upstairs, and the real celebrations began. Cassie pulled me out onto the dance floor while the team owner gifted Rob a Louis XIII Cognac that he immediately popped open to share with his teammates.

Before long, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and only slightly buzzed, I made my way back to Rob’s side.

“Are you having a miserable time?” I teased, glancing my shoulder against his arm.

“No,” he said, brown eyes lighting up. “But I’m ready to get out of here.”

“Already?” I glanced back at the party in full swing and shrugged. “Then I’m ready, too.”

Rob pressed his palm to my back, guiding me away from the staircase and toward a set of double doors beside the stage.

“I think the elevator is back there,” I laughed. “How much of that cognac did you drink?”

“Barely a glass. This way.” Rob put on the steely, commanding voice that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Yes, sir.”

“Right here.” He pushed open a door that led outside.

I stepped into a small garden overlooking the city center. Starlight twinkled overhead.

“Did you need some fresh air?” I ran my hand along the edge of a water fountain in the middle of the garden. Two cherubs dancing, a jet of water spraying over the top of them.

Rob didn’t answer. He wiped his hands on his tux, shoulders tense and breath shallow. Confused, I kept walking beyond the fountain to the dozens, if not hundreds, of red roses arranged in front of the metal fencing. When I turned around, Rob was on one knee.

“Astrid.”

I sucked in a breath, my mind racing to catch up. “What are you doing, Rob?”

He held the box that held his Super Bowl ring, flipping it open to reveal a new ring in its place. “Astrid Grace Evans, marry me.”

“Marry you?” I echoed, pressing my fist to my chest.

“Marry me. Let’s have a couple of kids together and find out what our life looks like after football.

” He cleared his throat. His voice wavered as his eyes dipped to the ground.

“I love you so much it physically hurts, and I can’t imagine my life without you.

I kept playing football because I didn’t know what my life looked like if I wasn’t Rob Grant, the football player.

I still don’t know what my life will look like, but if you’re there, I know it’s gonna be fine. Better than fine. Amazing.”

“What does Mila think?” I asked, biting back tears.

“That I should have proposed a year and a half ago.”

“She’s a pretty smart kid.”

“Is that a yes?”

I crashed into him, knocking the box out of his hands and nearly tackling him to the ground as my lips searched out his.

“I’m going to take that as a yes?” he asked when I finally gave him some breathing room.

“Absolutely.”