Epilogue
Levi
Staring down at my hand, I admire my ring, still in shock that we beat the Lions in the World Series last season.
Being one of the closing pitchers during the series against my former team brought a mix of emotions.
Some of the men have remained good friends, while others I could do without.
Besides, they were the ones who traded me, but with this on my hand, I no longer harbor hard feelings.
The ring is yellow and white gold adorned with our Mustang Logo created with diamonds, rubies and sapphires in the center and the words, World Champions circling it.
The year is emblazoned on one side with previous wins listed below and our stadium on the other with National written in script over the stadium.
Inside is personalized with my name, number, and position.
Now that we’re headed into the next season, it’s time to look forward. It’s time to put a ring on Layla’s finger and I’m nervous as hell. We’ve talked about the future, but actually proposing has me trembling. If I can close out a game in the World Series, I can ask the love of my life to marry me.
Taking a deep breath, I stride into the training room, smiling at the sight of Layla standing at the counter doing paperwork.
She’s dressed in black leggings, a thin ivory sweater and sneakers with her hair pulled back in her familiar ponytail.
As I step into the room, she lifts her gaze, her eyes sparkling and a wide smile brightening her flawless features giving me goosebumps. “Hi, Levi.”
“Hi, beautiful.” Blushing, she looks away. “I need to steal you for a little while. Are you almost done?”
“I’ll finish up for you, Layla,” Jordan, one of her colleagues offers. I spoke to Bill earlier to share my plans and he said his staff would be happy to help however they could. I'm grateful this is one of those ways.
“You don’t have to do that,” Layla argues as expected.
“I’m waiting for Calabra to show up anyway. It gives me something to do.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
She reaches for her bag and I wave her off. “We can come back for your things.”
“Okay,” she says dragging out the word, her eyes narrowing.
Holding out my hand, she takes it and I entwine our fingers together. Lifting her hand to my mouth, I brush my lips over it and lower it between us feeling her stare.
“Are you all right, Levi?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You seem edgy.”
Forcing a laugh, I claim, “I’m fine. I promise.”
She quirks her brow but doesn’t push. As I take a step down the tunnel leading to the baseball field, her steps falter. “We’re going on the field?”
“Yes, but don’t worry, we have permission.”
Stepping out onto the ballfield with the stadium lights illuminating the diamond, she looks around in awe. “I’ve never been out here when it’s empty like this. It’s beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Giggling, she teases, “Such a charmer.”
“Only for you, Layla.” She grins, letting go of my hand and spinning around in a slow circle, taking it all in. My eyes never waver from her. The way she finds beauty and joy in the small moments is one of the reasons I love her.
“Come on,” I prompt, holding my hand out once again. “I want to show you my view when I’m playing.”
“Okay,” she readily agrees, clasping my hand.
Strolling towards the pitcher’s mound, my hands start to sweat, my heart pounds and tingles crawl up my throat. We step up on the mound together and she releases my hand, smirking. “How’s my form?” she asks, her tone teasing. Then, she proceeds to pretend to pitch.
“You’re pitching?” I laugh. “Are we switching rolls, now?”
“Not exactly a switch. I’m not your coach.”
“Technically, no, but you are in all the ways that truly matter.”
“Levi,” she murmurs, the soft sound like a caress, calming my nerves.
Staring into her eyes, a smile curves my lips. “You’re so damn smart, Layla, I’d be crazy not to listen to you.”
Giggling, she reminds me, “You didn’t think that the day you met me.”
“Am I ever going to live that down?”
She shrugs, giving me a mischievous grin. “I’m here, so I think I got past it…eventually.”
Chuckling, I concede, “Well, you sure know how to put me in my place. I know you won’t take shit from me and that’s the way it should be. You challenge me in so many ways and it makes me want to be a better man.”
“I think you’re already a good man, Levi.”
My heart clenches. This woman. “Maybe because I have a good woman by my side and I would be honored if you would stay by my side for the rest of my life.”
“That’s where I want to be, with you beside me,” she says not understanding where I’m going with this making me laugh.
“What’s so funny?” she asks, puzzled.
Stepping towards her, I cup her cheek, giving her a chaste kiss. “You. You always know how to make me laugh.”
Trailing my hand from her cheek and down her arm, I grip her hand with both of mine as I drop down on one knee, realizing it may be the only way to convey how I’m feeling. “I’m not doing this right.”
Her eyes widen to the size of saucers and her chest heaves. “Levi?”
“Layla, I’m so damn in love with you. I love playing baseball but you are what makes the game of life worth living. Please, do me the honor of becoming my wife. Layla Romano, will you marry me?”
She gasps. Keeping one hand clasped with hers, I reach down with the other and dig the ring out of my pocket, her ring. Holding it up, I meet her teary gaze, mine open, vulnerable and full of love and hope. “Please, marry me.”
A broad smile spreads across her face, her eyes shining. “Yes, Levi. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Rising, I exhale in relief, and drag her into my arms. With a grin plastered across my face, I cradle her head in my hands and seal our mouths together, kissing her hard, almost frantic. Cheering rings through the speakers, startling us both, causing us to rear back.
Looking up towards the booth, Gabe’s voice echoes around us, “Congratulations, Sis!”
We both burst out laughing and she looks at me, arching her brow. “I needed help to make this happen, so Gabe is watching from the booth and filming it for your mom.”
Grinning, she stares at me, her eyes bright with emotion. “I love you, Levi.”
My heart clenches like it does every time I hear those words leave her mouth. “I love you, too. You’re stuck with me, now,” I tease making her giggle, slipping the ring on her finger.
She glances down at the yellow gold, round diamond, surrounded by smaller diamonds. “I thought we said nothing bigger than one carat?”
“It’s not.” I smirk and she gives me a look, calling me on my bullshit. “The center diamond is one carat. Sure, the surrounding diamonds make it about three all together, but I thought this fit us, fit you perfectly.”
“Because it looks like a flower. Sneaky. And beautiful. And you’re right, perfect,” she softly admits.
“Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes, please.”
The End