Wildcard: Volume Three - Page 37

“…defeated American teenager Cally Harmer in straight sets, 6-2, 6-3.”

Damn. She lost. But considering this was her first major competition, she did pretty well. I watch Cally pack her tennis bag and walk off the court as the camera zooms in on Ryder again. My heart swells. I still can’t believe how freaking lucky I am. I’m the envy of every woman in the world because he’s all mine.

We’ve already overcome so many obstacles. I’m both excited and scared to see what the future brings. In the back of my mind, I’m wondering where we go from here. We live in different countries. Our lives are so different. I can’t expect him to pack up his life and move to the US . . . can I?

“Did you see that shot?” Jake cries, his eyes wide.

I laugh and shake my head. Ever since Ryder came into our lives, Jake has been obsessed with tennis—to the point where he’s become somewhat of an expert, arguing over line calls and cheering on his favorite players. I’m embarrassed to admit that even now, after spending all this time with Ryder—I cannot fucking stand tennis.

I can’t think of anything more torturous than watching two people hit a ball around for hours on end. I seriously hate it with a passion. Not that I’ll ever tell him that. I don’t think he could handle any more revelations from me.

“Ryder!” Jake exclaims.

I look behind me, surprised. I wasn’t expecting him to be here for hours. I stand up as he walks over. His arm brushes over my back sending tingles down my spine as he moves past me and over to Jake.

“How’s my favorite boy doing?” he grins.

“Do you think I could be a ball boy when my lungs are fixed?” he asks seriously.

Ryder messes his hair. “You can be whatever you want, mate. But on one condition.”

“What?” he asks, wide-eyed.

I smile. I love watching the two of them together. Jake loves him so much and I can see the feeling is mutual.

“I need your permission.”

What? I eye him curiously because I have no idea what he’s doing. What does he have up his sleeve? What does he need my seven-year-old sons permission for?

“Is this about you and Mommy?”

“What makes you ask that?” Ryder asks, a smile playing on his lips.

“You want to have a sleepover with Mommy,” Jake explains earnestly.

I hold back a laugh as Ryder looks at me for help and I shrug. He’s on his own for this and I cant wait to see where this is going.

“Max told me adults have sleepovers so they can make babies,” Jake continues. “Are you and Mommy going to make a baby? Because I don’t want a sister. I want a brother. Can I name him? I want to call him Steven.”

I lose it. I begin to laugh. Poor Ryder is standing there with a bewildered look on his face. Finally he smiles.

“This isn’t going how I expected it to,” he mumbles, embarrassed.

He slaps his hands together and sits down, pulling a small box out of his pocket. Opening it, he sets it on the table in front of Jake. Even from where I’m standing, I can see the sparkle of the huge solitaire diamond.

“Jake, I want to marry your Mum.”

“What?” I blurt out. My hands fly to my mouth. Did I just hear him correctly?

“Will that make you my daddy?” Jake asks.

“Yes. I’d love to be your dad, Jake,” Ryder smiles.

Jake thinks for a moment. “Can I take you to school for show and tell?”

“Sure,” Ryder laughs. “Why not?”

Tags: Missy Johnson Wildcard Romance
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