“Come on, baby. Come on, baby,” Kerry whispered. It had been the only chanting I’d heard, and it was subtle, under her breath like she willed it her man’s way.

  I watched Kendrick then. He was getting there, the time his only enemy. Knowing that, he went for the three-point shot, the shot unlikely but possible. His feet left the court, his shot aimed and the ball ready to leave his fingertips. He was so focused, so determined on that one job. The ball into the hoop, the points his. In fact, he was so focused he didn’t take notice of a player from the opposing team, charging like a ranging bull for the star player. An elbow hit Kendrick’s gut, his legs knocked from underneath him, but it was too late the ball had left his fingers, the player unsuccessful in deterring him.

  I followed that shot with bated breath, the same as everyone else in that crowd. We could get ahead before halftime. We could get ahead. The buzzer hit first, blasting through the air like shattered glass, but that didn’t matter. The points still counted. They always counted.

  The ball hit the backboard first, but then slid, slid for that wonderful squish. The crowd cheered, roared with an immeasurable excitement that their star player had once again gotten them that much closer to win, and I turned to Kerry to see her response. But she wasn’t watching the hoop. She wasn’t watching the score. She stared in horror with the rest of Griffin’s teammates; Griffin’s face a mash up of similar horror as he stared out at the court.

  At Kendrick.

  He lay on the court, holding his knee with an ache that ripped across his face that had to mean so much more than physical pain and I could feel that. I could sense that even more from this distance of a few feet away. The most vicious opposing player couldn’t harm a basketball player as much as an injury. No. An injury was as demon, one that couldn’t always be overcome.

  Kerry stood immediately, but the others held onto her. Most likely knowing she couldn’t do anything. And I was there too, an arm around my new friend as she watched the tragedy pan out before her. The medics swooping in and studying Kendrick. They were with him for a while, the refs and coaches keeping everyone back. Eventually a stretcher came out and I knew it was over. For tonight at least, Kendrick Donovan was done.

  Two of his fellow players helped him up and onto the stretcher, and not to my surprise one was Griffin, lending a shoulder for his player in need. He and his other tall teammate got Kendrick on the stretcher and that’s when we finally let Kerry go. Eddie went with her, the two gathering their things, before following with the mass. I gave her my warm wishes, watching with my hand over my face as they left.

  Kendrick lifted his fist while he wheeled away, the crowd chanting their support for him, but after he acknowledged them he reached out as if seeking someone. That someone quickly arrived, Kerry. Her hand held his as the crowd swallowed them whole, gathered around them as they left the stadium.

  Everything happened so quickly and I had no idea what to do. I felt so helpless for Kendrick, for Kerry. How things could turn so quick. Like the blink of an eye. I searched out Griffin after that, for guidance on what to do and think next as well as to console him anyway I could, but it turned out he didn’t need me in that moment.

  Speaking with his coach, he stood off to the side, the man’s hand on his shoulder. They only spoke as a pair for a few seconds before the coach gathered the rest of the team. They huddled, again shortly, before exiting, the other team quickly doing the same.

  Sam and I exchanged a glance, wondering what was happening, but then the halftime show got underway and our questions were stamped down for now. I normally liked the show, but I had to admit, after what happened, it was hard to enjoy. Even the dancers seemed a little less motivated that usual, trying their best to get a clearly drained crowd up and amped for the second half of the game. When it ended, I think we all shared the same amount of anxiousness. Kendrick Donovan led this team to greatness. Quite literally every game and we all wondered what would happen in his exit.

  I listened to the announcer along with Sam, with everyone really, for substitutions. With the crowd noise, announcements were hard to make out. I ended up seeing what was happening before I heard it. I ended up seeing him like a beacon there to light my way. He’d light everyone’s way tonight.

  Griffin’s number was called, his name, and he raised a fist to the crowd. He had something in his hand, a jersey with a number—Kendrick’s. He shook it and the crowd lost their minds.

  I did as well, standing and cheering with the rest for the fallen player, and then I watched my man take the reins. He was playing point guard, there in Kendrick’s place.

  Everything happened quickly with Kendrick’s injury, but when Griffin Chandler hit the court everything went in quick time. His feet hit the court in a flash, his game on, and his precision nothing short of amazing. He’d worked hard for this moment. He fought hard for it, so when he made that first shot within seconds of touching the court I could do nothing but shake my head, expecting nothing less. His feet were a blur, his shots a blur. One after the other it was like the opposing players weren’t on the court. He created opportunities for the shooting guard yes, but his skills when it came to his three-point shots were impeccable. His team protected him, making his job easy, letting him do his job easily.

  On the fifth consecutive shot, he pointed to his left, to me, a grin on his lips as the crowd roared.

  Swallowing hard, I placed my hand on my chest, Sam shaking my shoulders in a frenzy at all the excitement. The Jumbotron filled with my image at Griffin’s blatant move of acknowledgement, which I knew, but I didn’t care. I cared about that man out there, and I knew, in that moment, everything was about to change for him.

  Everything.

  Troy gestured to Stasha who nodded, exiting the back of the black Escalade. Troy had the driver park us behind a building so Griffin and I couldn’t even see the extent of our destination. We knew we’d be seeing potential wedding venues today, beaches. Troy informed my fiancé and me that would happen later in the morning after our brunch, the official meeting of him. I hated I almost had to cancel. Griffin had a crazy hectic night last night. I supposed leading a team to victory would do that to a guy and I was so proud of him. He had made magic on that court last night and I wasn’t the only one who noticed. He’d been swarmed after the game, interviews and things. He more than stepped up after Kendrick’s injury. He led, making Kendrick himself proud. He had called Griffin last night from the hospital, telling him what a great job he’d done as he watched the rest of the game there, and that meant so much to Griffin. His own leader was proud of the way he performed and though for Griffin stepping in had been bittersweet in Kendrick’s absence he did what he had to do. Kendrick had also given him his blessing, as his status for the rest of the season was unknown. All we knew was the point guard went into surgery this morning, after that, we’d know for sure. I spoke to Kerry briefly too. She was well, but not without worry and I didn’t blame her.

  We’d all said a few words for them both last night over drinks. Griffin’s teammates took him out to party after the win and Sam and me tagged along for the ride. I might not have gone if she hadn’t offered, which was nice that she had. I had a good time, but did go home earlier, Sam as my ride. Griffin didn’t get in until nearly three so I figured today’s meeting with Troy would have to be rescheduled. He didn’t want to disappoint me by canceling so he’d been a trooper and gone, loading up on morning coffee. I almost couldn’t tell he was tired except for the slight darkness under his blue eyes. My poor thing. He’d be able to sleep it all off this afternoon though as he had the day off.

  Troy smiled at us, eyeing our hands laced together in Griffin’s lap just briefly before he pressed a hand to his ear. He listened, and I figured that was Stasha in his ear, letting him know everything was all set. He lowered his hand. “All right, guys. You’re going to love this,” he said gathering his things. He had a pen and paper. “Just follow me to the land of dreams.”

  I snorted, loving him, and watched as he got out of the wide Escalade’s cabin. Once he cleared, Griffin tugged my hand, moving into the space near my ear.

  “We’re safe with this guy, right?” he asked, laughter behind the depth of his drawl. I knew he was joking as he’d loved Troy at brunch, but I played along.

  “I think so,” I told him with a shrug. “But just to be sure I think I need a kiss. You know, just in case it’s the last time you ever see me.”

  This final parting didn’t seem to bother him at all. He dampened his lips before he did, the fullness covered in a slight sheen as he pressed a hand to my cheek, guiding me into the depths of a full kiss. He smelled like peppermint as he’d popped a Tic Tac after brunch, that and the thick taste of Griffin Chandler.

  He had me sighing, moving into him for more, but he grabbed my hand, sliding away and opening the door before I tackled him there in the backseat. Mock pouting, I let him guide me. From his casual expression when he helped me out, you’d never know anything was amiss in that back seat, but I wasn’t so good at hiding.

  I passed Troy’s knowing look, pulling back a bit. “How much of that did you see?”

  “See what, my bride?” he said, winking. Putting the deviousness away, he gave a small clap. “Come on, then. On to paradise.”

  Griffin and I both shook our heads, though I think me for a different reason as I’d been caught with my hands in the Griffin Chandler cookie jar. Sticking behind Troy as he guided us from our parking spot toward the beach, I couldn’t help swinging my hand in Griffin’s. As it was early in the day, the sun had the perfect positioning. This all felt so peaceful, so magical and I think Griffin definitely noticed my high.

  He kissed my cheek, staying there. “You can’t stop smiling,” he said, but the happiness lining his face when he pulled away let me know I wasn’t the only one.

  I pushed my arm around his waist, fitting into that perfect space under his arm. Sometimes being over a foot shorter than your man had its advantages. His long arm went around my shoulder, bringing me close and Troy did take us away, me away, to paradise. Our private beach had clear blue water and crystal white sand like many beaches in Miami, but this one was different. Any sounds beyond anything natural couldn’t be heard, the waves breaking softly against the shore. It was heaven on earth and I could see those closest to us sharing it with us, our day even more special because of it.

  “Silence,” Stasha said, making both she and Troy’s presence known when she leaned into him, and Troy simply smiled at the remark. “Silence is good, Stasha. Never underestimate it.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Griffin spoke first between the two of us. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking without words. “Silence is definitely good.”

  They all gazed at me from that moment on, but I gazed up at Griffin, jaw slacked. “Can we buy it?”

  A snort hit his cute little nose, and Stasha and Troy got their laughs in as well.

  “You really want it?” he asked me, tugging me to him. “I can call Mickey.”

  Funny enough I knew he would if I let him. This man loved to spoil me. I settled a hand on his chest. “I think the wedding should do it, but thanks.”

  “So do we need to see anymore locations?” Troy asked, raising his clipboard. “This one is available for your dates.”

  Griffin once again glanced to me for guidance. I think we had our location.

  Troy took us up and down the beach, giving us its history as well as sharing with Griffin some of the ideas our planner and I both had come up with. Griffin surprised me by making a few suggestions himself, and though, this didn’t go far past items on the menu I was happy he was playing along. He got a phone call as Troy started discussing some specifics he had in mind for the day’s layout.

  “Hello?” he answered, giving me an apologetic smile I quickly waved off. Honestly, I’d been surprised his people hadn’t called him sooner. Rich had basically been blowing up his phone for the last two weeks with various things. Usually when Rich spoke to him Griffin had this look on his face I knew meant he was just as excited about getting a call as I was about him having to take it. But today, right now, was different. The expression that flashed across his face, well, was nothing short of shocked. He blinked, laughing a little before rubbing a large hand over his mouth.

  “Seriously?” he asked into the phone. By this point, Troy had turned away with Stasha, giving us both privacy, but I wasn’t. Griffin seemed more excited with every passing second. He gave another laugh, shaking his head. “Sure, sure. I mean, I gotta speak to Roxie first, but…”

  The little yippee puppy in me wanted to tug at his shirt and scream, “What! What!” But I remained calm, silent until he hung up, and when he lowered the phone, something told me he had a similar jumpiness inside him.

  Grabbing me by my waist, he spun me around, a full 360 rotation that made me laugh before he placed my feet back into the sand, and even with my feet on the ground, I couldn’t respond after that. I couldn’t respond because Griffin’s mouth came down on mine, a full, powerful kiss that left my head spinning by the time he pulled away.

  Hunching to my height, he placed his hands on my cheeks. “I never thought it would happen this fast, Roxie. I just…” He couldn’t even speak he was so excited, losing the words. “That was Mickey. The phone has quite literally been ringing off the hook about me. He wants me to come down to his office and root through it all with him and Rich. Can you believe that? I can’t…”

  I shot into his arms, willingly this time, as I gripped around him. He squeezed me, lifting me mid air again, so effortless with the move. Always effortless.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I whispered kissing his cheek. I knew things would change for him last night, and he was right. It all happened so fast, but that was awesome.

  In his arms as he spun me again, I could see over his shoulder. Stasha and Troy had made their way farther down the beach and I took advantage of the privacy, sneaking in for a kiss of the man who held my heart. His lips on mine and his hand in my hair, I felt him all over me, through me, and wrapped around me completely. We had many kisses, but this one meant something deep, the raw emotion flowing over us both. I just couldn’t believe he was accomplishing his dreams so quickly. I was so happy for him.

  When he set me down, my hands were in his. “So do you need to go or…”

  “Um… yeah. I just…” Pushing his hand behind his neck, he gazed around. “Are you okay? I mean, if I leave you?”

  He’d barely been able to finish before I pulled him over to Stasha and Troy.

  “Good news?” Troy asked casually. I really did love this guy. I explained to him Griffin needed to get downtown pretty quick and he suggested the driver take him, allowing the planner and me to finish up here.

  “You’ll really be okay?” Griffin asked me, Stasha by his side. She’d offered to escort him.

  I answered with only a wave, letting him go. He was still shaking his head by the time he left Troy and myself at the beach.

  “You two are quite simply sickening to watch you know,” Troy said, nudging me. “But that’s only perfect.”

  “Hey now,” I laughed, pointing. “Watch it, you.”

  He bowed at the waist, his hands in a steeple. “Forgive me. Let’s get back to this, shall we?” he said spinning to the landscape. It was quite beautiful indeed. He gestured to the shore. “So we’ll have you and Griffin stand ample feet away from the shore so—”

  “Why?” I asked surprising myself. When he eyed me, I gave a subtle shrug. “Standing in ankle deep water could be cool. The girls are in short dresses and the guys could…”

  “Cuff them,” he finished for me as if he were the other side of my brain. “But you don’t mind your dress getting wet? Or do you want it hemmed?”

  “I don’t mind the dress getting wet. Only wearing it once, right? And didn’t we talk about changing dresses for the reception anyway? Something easier to dance in?”

  This made him smile. “You’re definitely a carefree bride, Roxie Peterson, and I’m okay with that. So that’s just about it I think for now. Your guests will all be down by the shore. The bride entering from stage right. We can set up a tent for you and your father to enter in from.”

  He said the word so casually I’d been taken back a bit. But what he’d said was casual—to most people anyway. That should be casual. That word: father.

  “My dad?” I asked him. It felt funny even saying it myself.

  “Mmmhmm.” He started to write something down, his head lowered. “And do you have his number? I noticed on your questionnaire you had his name but nothing else.”

  “Um, uh,” I paused, chewing my lip. “Why would you need that? His number that is?”

  He faced me. “Well, it’s just good to have on hand. I also need to call him about arranging a fitting for him where he lives so he won’t have to come here. His local formalwear shop can call one here with his measurements. I’ll also need to know if he’d like to wear a formal tux or what the groom and his men are wearing.”

  He lowered his clipboard just then, almost like he knew something was off, that something was wrong. But how did I tell him the truth? That yes, I had a father. Yes, I had a man to walk me down the aisle, but I had yet to even think about him and his roll in this wedding until this very moment….

  I hadn’t even told him I’d gotten engaged.

  The telltale ping let me know it was okay to head back to the bedroom, Mickey’s jet in its nighttime cruise setting. I passed Rich reclining in one of the bird’s cushy seats, my assigned babysitter as he had been for the last week now of scheduled events.

  He turned his slicked-back hair on the seat, his laptop illuminating his face. “You headed to bed, champ?”