Page 41 of Winning Match (League Valencia #1)

Marlowe

When the earliest rays of sunshine filter into the guest bedroom the following morning, my eyelids flutter open. For a second, I’m confused why I’m lying beneath the guest room comforter, completely naked.

But then, I feel the weight of his presence wrapped around me and I smile. His large hand curls around my stomach, his strong chest pressed against my back. Alejandro is here. Alejandro loves me.

I turn to him, studying the slope of his nose, the swoop of his eyebrows, the perfection of his rugged jawline and full mouth.

His eyes open slowly and those piercing green eyes captivate me.

“Good morning,” he murmurs.

I bite my bottom lip, nerves scattering through me now that he’s awake and it’s…tomorrow. “We should talk.”

He snorts. “We will.”

And I bite my bottom lip harder, turning to glance at the clock beside my bed. It’s early, in part due to the jet lag. Six seventeen a.m.

“Ale,” I whisper. “We should sail.”

Understanding colors his eyes and he smiles back. “I’d love to.”

We get out of bed and dress quickly.

Grandpa is already in the kitchen, having moved in during my time in Spain. He’s peeling a hardboiled egg, drinking a coffee, and reading a newspaper.

“I’m going to take Ale out on the water, Grandpa,” I explain, bending to kiss his temple.

Grandpa grins, glancing from Ale to me. “Show him the ropes.”

“If he can keep up,” I laugh.

“Wind’s in your favor,” Grandpa chuckles, winking.

Ale stares at me as if he can’t imagine life without me. It’s such a simple moment—my father’s kitchen at dawn, the sound of the spoon Grandpa taps against the egg, Narragansett Bay beckoning through the window—and yet, it spears me with a poignancy, with a promise.

“Grab windbreakers,” Grandpa advises. “It’ll be chilly this early.”

I move to the hall closet and reach inside, finding two Prescott Sail windbreakers that belong to my father. I toss one to Ale and he tugs it over his head.

Then, we step into the cool morning air, the sun slowly rising, and head toward the dock.

“This was my mom’s favorite boat,” I say pointing to the seventeen-foot, O’Day Daysailer.

“Grandpa makes sure it’s docked right here every summer so Dad can see it.

Sometimes…well, it jogs his memory.” I gesture for Ale to hop aboard.

“Give me a few minutes.” I remove the sail cover, double-check for life jackets and other essentials, and run through a mental checklist. Grandpa was right—the wind is favorable, blowing away from the dock.

I hoist the mainsail, uncleat and stow the lines, and push off the dock. Within minutes, I trim the sails and we’re guiding toward the open water.

The wind whips at our faces, blowing our hair. I glance at Ale and note the expression of awe etched in his face. It’s surreal, sharing this moment with him, when it’s one I never thought could make me feel content, overflowing with joy, again.

Once we’re cruising and the boat is balanced, I relax next to Ale and grin. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” I lift my chin toward the sky—soft pink interspersed with pastel blue. It’s dreamlike.

“Never seen anything like it,” he breathes, but he’s looking right at me.

I blush and dip my head.

We sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying the view and the moment.

“I spoke to Grandpa last night.”

He nods, his eyes cutting to mine and holding. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t rush me.

“José Costa’s proposal—the opportunity he’s offering—is once in a lifetime. It gives Prescott Sail the chance to have a steady delivery output as well as consistent revenue. Things have been up and down for years now and…with Grandpa getting older, I can’t keep a handle on everything by myself.”

“Makes sense,” Ale agrees, his expression neutral.

“Grandpa thinks he should remain CEO for a little while longer and we should hire someone to oversee things here. To essentially step into the COO of US operations and for me to launch a satellite office in Valencia. Then, we can reevaluate.”

“What do you think?”

I bite my bottom lip. “I want to come, Ale. More than anything, I want to ensure the stability of the business, and I want to be with you, in Spain. But...”

“But?” His voice tightens.

My emotions rise. “My dad… I can’t go months at a time without seeing him. Even if he doesn’t recognize me, I need to spend time with him.”

Ale reaches for my hand, folding my fingers into his palm. “Of course you do, mi nina . As frequently as you wish.”

I loose a sigh, my shoulders lifting to my ears in a shrug. “I can’t fly back every month. The cost?—”

“Is not an issue,” he interrupts me. “Marli, don’t think twice about the cost when it comes to your personal life and your family.”

“You can’t pay for me to fly home every month and?—”

“Why not?”

I huff out a laugh. “Ale, I’m your girlfriend. This is a new relationship. It’s not like we’re married or even engaged. You can’t spend money on me like that!”

He’s quiet for a long beat and I relax, relieved I got through to him.

“Do you want to be engaged? Married?” he asks slowly, his eyes glued to mine.

My heart rate ticks up as a wave of emotion—excitement and joy, nervousness and disbelief—crashes over me. “You-you can’t be serious?”

“I am. You’re it for me, Marli, and I mean that.

It doesn’t matter to me if we get married tomorrow or in ten years, I’ll always want to be your husband.

If you need to come to America every month or every two weeks, the cost is insignificant.

I am all in this with you and I will do anything I can to make you happy. Anything.”

“Ale,” I murmur, tears welling in my eyes.

“Marry me, Marli. Let’s start our lives together.” He shifts onto a knee as he says it, his eyes still zeroed in on mine.

I read the intent in his irises, the sincerity in his expression, the pure love in his touch.

And with the dawn wrapping around us, with the wind and sea and sun on our faces, I’ve never felt so close to my family, so at peace, so at home before. And in the depth of my heart, I know—this is it.

This is everything .

“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Alejandro. I want nothing more than to be your wife.”

He grins and I toss myself into his arms, kissing him hard.

We laugh and brush tears from each other’s cheeks, our foreheads bent together. My heart flutters like a sparrow’s wings and Ale’s arms circle around me, keeping me anchored to the moment—to him.

“Want to eat breakfast to celebrate?” I ask.

“I want to go anywhere you go, Marli.”

Grinning, I navigate us toward Wickford Harbor, to my favorite waterfront restaurant, where we sip hot coffee, eat Johnny Cakes, and savor the bliss of the moment.

We spend one more night in Providence, Rhode Island. Grandpa is delighted by my decision to launch Prescott Sail in Spain. The Sewing Circle is over the moon that Alejandro proposed.

“But we need to see the ring,” Dorothy warns Ale, who promises to rectify my bare finger the second our plane touches down in Valencia.

We spend our last night celebrating, talking, and making plans. I promise to visit every month and to help Grandpa fulfill the COO and eventually the CEO positions here.

On the morning of our departure, I leave Ale in the guest room as he makes phone calls, his Spanish too fast for me to understand.

Slipping into my father’s room, I smile when I see him on the balcony, bundled in a thick blanket, his eyes on the water.

“What are you doing, Dad?” I ask, sitting in the chair beside him.

“Just watching the sailboats.”

I nod, slipping my hand into his.

We sit together, watching the sailboats, lost in our own thoughts.

Sitting with Dad, I acknowledge the past that has now faded into bittersweet memories. I appreciate the present, this moment and all it entails. And for the first time in a long time, I envision a bright and fulfilling future.

We sit in silence until Ale gently tells me it’s time to leave.

I hug my father tight and press kisses to his cheeks, but I know when he looks at me, he’s a little bewildered.

“I’ll see you soon,” I promise.

He nods, his eyes clearing for a heartbeat. “I know.”

Deep down, I believe he does.

Bianca throws us a sweet and laid-back engagement party a week later. The team assembles at Corcho and when I walk in, a three-carat oval engagement ring sparkles from my finger.

“Oh my God!” Bianca yells, grasping my hand.

“You sound like Gladys,” I laugh.

“Dorothy thinks it’s gaudy and Judith said it could be bigger,” Ale adds.

Bianca cracks up. “Well, I think it’s beautiful. As are you.” My friend hugs me tightly. “You’re glowing.”

“Are you—” Luca starts.

“Don’t ask,” Ale shuts him up. He wraps an arm around my waist and tells our friends, “We’re getting married next summer on Narragansett Bay, in Rhode Island, and you’re all invited.” He looks at me and his eyes spark. “I can’t wait.”

I push up on my toes to kiss his mouth. “Me too.”

“ Madre Mía , do we have to endure this all season?” Carlos jokes.

“Seems so,” Coach Javi says, stepping forward to offer his congratulations.

The party kicks off with Andrés’s rendition of “Chapel of Love” by The Dixie Cups.

While Ale’s teammates and our friends sing and dance and drink, Ale grasps my hand, his thumb brushing over my engagement ring, and wraps an arm around my waist. We sway together and I can’t stop the smile that cuts my face.

“This reminds me of that first night, in the club,” I recall.

“When I attempted to impress you with bachata?”

“You did impress me.”

He drops his mouth to brush a kiss over my lips. “You impress me every single day, Marli. I’m in awe of you and I can’t wait until you’re my wife.”

I smile against his mouth, lifting my arms to entwine them around his neck. “I can’t wait until you’re my husband,” I admit. “But in the meantime, I plan to savor every second of our engagement.”

Ale’s hand settles in the center of my back as I arch into him. “Can we sneak away and start savoring right now?”

I laugh but my eyes dart around the room. “Once Abuela leaves.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” I kiss him hard.

Then, I savor the moment.

I savor our everything .