I don’t know much about the big center, other than he’s quiet, the team’s captain, and likes to paint. Bearded and tatted along his muscled arms, with a shock of wild brown hair that grows thick on his head, he’s hot in a broody, lumbersexual kind of way. Because, yeah, I can totally see him rocking a plaid shirt and chopping some wood. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, I turn my attention elsewhere.

For the rest of the dinner, I have fun. Only Gray seems off, his voice louder than usual when he tells a joke, his muscles tight, even when I put a hand on his neck and rub it. But he leans in close and whispers in my ear. “After these guys leave, I’m taking you out for a ride. I have a surprise.”

I waggle my brows. “Color me intrigued.”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Gray flashes a quick smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. And I wonder if we’re both trying too hard to be brave.

* * *

Gray refuses to tell me where we’re going or why, or even give me a hint, which leaves me with all sorts of ideas, none of them based in reality. I’m up to guessing it’s a ride in the Goodyear blimp when we enter the campus.

He parks in front of the stadium, and my excitement turns to confusion. “Why are we here? If you think I’m playing some random game of midnight touch football on a full stomach, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“No football, I promise.” He’s grinning like a kid on a snow day. “You’ll see. Come on.”

Taking my hand, he leads me to one of the stadium’s side entrances.

“Are we allowed to be here?”

Gray’s texting something on his phone, but gives me a quick look. “Now, Mac, you know me better. Of course not.”

I huff, but then the door opens and a security guard waves us in.

“Thanks, Rufus,” Gray says.

Rufus, an older, portly gentleman, give a gruff nod. “Just remember our deal and clean up after yourselves.”

“What was the promise?” I ask as we walk farther into the stadium and Rufus ambles off, his large frame waddling slightly.

“Tickets to the bowl game and that I don’t trash the place.”

“Ah.” I trot alongside Gray, whose hand has become slightly damp. He glances down at me a few times, his smile tight but his eyes shining as though excited.

All questions stop when I see the soft glow in the center of the field. A nest of blankets has been laid out along with a basket, camp lantern, and, a little ways away, a small heater.

Gray leads me to the spot. “I wanted to give you your last present here.”

“I get another present?” I sit on the blankets, curling my legs under me so that he has room. “Gimme.”

Gray laughs but pulls a carafe out of the basket. “Cocoa first.”

The little heater provides warmth, but not as much as Gray’s big body. I snuggle against him and drink cocoa. The dark stadium is still and quiet, the high, slanting sides looming up around us. Only a few lights by each end zone are on, shining a harsh, bluish white. “It kind of feels like we’re in the bowels of a space ship.”

Gray shifts closer, and his chin rests against my shoulder. “I guess it kind of does now. I’ve never been here when it’s dark like this.” I feel his head turn and know he’s looking around. His voice lowers to reverence. “To me, it’s a cathedral. I sit here and I feel calm, centered. And yet it’s like all the energy of games past remains, coursing through my veins, and I can’t wait for the next game.” My hand finds his, and I hold it as he continues. “I don’t even think it matters what stadium I’m in. It just feels right.” Soft lips brush along my neck. “The same way you feel right.”

This man. He does it for me in every way. I turn and kiss him, loving that I can. That he’s mine. Gray’s fingers thread through my hair to cup the back of my head as he deepens the kiss, tasting me like it’s the first time. Heat flares over my skin, but he pulls back, his breath coming a little faster. He gives me one more soft peck. “Love you, Ivy Mac.”

“Love you, Cupcake.”

Gray takes a deep breath, his nose against my hair as if he’s taking in my scent. Then he gives himself a little shake. “Okay. Present.” He fumbles around in the basket, his shoulders inching up, and it hits me that he’s nervous. Really nervous.

Which makes me nervous. When he turns, he’s so tight the muscles along his thighs bulge against his jeans. “Ivy…”

My attention drifts to the little black box he holds. Shit. I can’t move. My heart slams against my ribs.

Gray sits back on his heels, facing me. With shaking hands, he opens the box. The ring is gorgeous, an Art Deco design of three flat, emerald-cut diamonds on a platinum band.

I stare at it, numb inside, then look back at Gray. His whole heart is in his eyes. The corner of his mouth quirks, trembling a little. I just want to hug him close, only I’m frozen.

“This was my mom’s,” he says. “The only tangible thing I have left of her. Seeing it on your finger would give me joy.”

“Gray…” I swallow hard. “What—”

He quiets me with a squeeze of my hand. “Ivy Jane Mackenzie, I want to marry you. I want you to be my family. And I’ll be yours.” He looks at me with hope and longing. “Say yes?”

Shock has punched the breath out of me. I’d feared this. Yet, his words, the look in his eyes, makes me want to hug him close. Which makes it harder to answer.