“Ha! That’s some big cojones you got there.” The dark arch of brows Banner inherited elevates, and there’s a twitch of the lips that look just like hers, too. “You speak enough Spanish to know what that means, gringo?”

The tense line of my mouth relaxes because she is so much like Banner, I have to like her just a little bit.

“You hurt Banner when you said that,” I say, testing the temporary cease-fire between us.

“And you don’t like seeing my daughter hurt?”

“No, I don’t,” I answer seriously, no smile in sight. “Not even by the people I know love her.”

She searches my face for a moment before speaking again. “Do you have any idea how exceptional Banner is?”

She continues before I can answer.

“They said to me, ‘Mrs. Morales, Banner is Mensa.’” She allows a glimmer of humor in her dark eyes. “I thought they were insulting my daughter. Mensa means stupid girl in Spanish.”

The slightest smile tilts one side of my mouth as I appreciate the irony.

“She was so different, so . . .” A helpless shrug lifts her shoulders. “I wasn’t prepared for her.”

“Neither was I,” I agree wryly.

“The books she read, the languages she learned, the dreams she had, I couldn’t teach her those things.” The softened line of her lips cements. “But I did teach her honesty, loyalty, character. I taught her not to cheat.”

The humor we’d briefly shared dissolves, leaving the warm, early evening air tense. I don’t offer excuses or explanations because I don’t owe anyone those. I take responsibility for my actions, and nothing she will say can make me regret that her daughter is mine.

“She’s a good girl,” Mrs. Morales says softly.

“I know that. If you’re working up to telling me I don’t deserve her, don’t waste your time. I already know that, too.”

“Zo is a good man.” Her dark eyes never waver from my face, inspecting, assessing. “Are you a good man?”

I pause, examining her question and my response before answering.

“I’m good to your daughter. I would never hurt her and would kill anyone who tried.”

That bold truth sits between the two of us for a few moments before she nods.

“Well, Banner has always known her own mind,” she says. “And her mind is set on you.”

Another smile twitches the corners of her mouth.

“I think she has set her heart on you, too.”

“It’s mutual,” I assure her.

Her eyes don’t leave my face, narrowing until she nods and seems satisfied by something she sees.

“Yes, well my grandchildren will speak Spanish,” she says brusquely. “And if you don’t want us talking about you in your face, you will learn it and quickly.”

“Sí,” I reply with a smile I don’t try to hold back.

“So you’re saying you do want to marry Banner, then?” she demands, dispelling the brief ease and crossing her arms over her chest exactly the way Banner does when she’s reading me my rights.

“Uh . . .” This is taking a turn.

“What? You want to have the cow and the milk but not pay the farmer, eh? You want my grandchildren born out of wedlock?”

“No, you see I was—”

“You have moved in, yes?” she asks, shifting her hands to the hips. “To my daughter’s house? You live with her? You sleep with her every night?”

“Well, yeah, but we—”

“Then children will follow.”

With her being such a devout Catholic, I’m not sure which might be more offensive. The fact that we have sex outside of marriage or that we use birth control. I wish Banner was here to answer these questions because I could screw this all up even worse. Fortunately, someone, a cousin if I recall correctly, calls for Mrs. Morales. With one searing look from my head to my toes, she leaves as abruptly as she came.

Well, that went well. I think. Maybe?

I could use some air after that. I step out onto the terrace and am thrilled to find it empty. The thrill is short-lived when I hear footsteps approaching. The last person I want to see is the only other person out here.

“Zo,” I greet him evenly. “Good to see you.”

His full-bodied laughter fits better now that he’s getting some of his bulk back. His body has responded well to the stem cell replacement, though he is nowhere ready for the court. You’d never know that by the stories Banner has planted. She has Sutton Lowell over a barrel with all the goodwill for Zo in the league. If they even hinted they were cutting him from the Titans, there would be public outcry. If he recovers enough to work out for them, and if he proves he can still perform, his spot still waits.

“I thought you were more honest than that, Foster,” he says with a microscopic smile.

“It is good seeing you. Of course, I’m glad you’re doing so well.”

“It has been a lot, and Banner has been invaluable.” He pauses. “Thank you for not making her choose or keeping her away from me.”

“You mean the way you kept her away from me?” I can’t resist asking.

That tiny quirk of his lips come again. “I deserved that.”

Yeah, you did.

“I was desperate to keep her,” he says simply, looking me in the eyes. “I’m sure you can relate, can understand. I really appreciate you allowing her to help me these last few months.”

“Allow?” I scoff. “You know I couldn’t stop Banner doing what Banner wants to do if I tried. Believe me, I’ve tried. I wouldn’t want to stop her. Banner is completely mine and wholly her own. I love that about her.”

He nods, a smile of understanding tugging the corners of his mouth. We don’t speak for a few minutes, lost in our private thoughts. Lately, I’ve been tossing something around in my head that he may be the only person who can appreciate.

“Have you ever heard of multiple discovery?” I ask, leaning against the terrace wall.

“Can’t say that I have,” Zo replies, frowning.

“It’s usually used for scientists or inventors. The phenomenon of two people discovering something in different places at essentially the same time,” I say. “You’d be surprised how often it happens. Calculus, oxygen, the blast furnace . . . all multiple discoveries. Even Darwin’s Theory of Evolution was postulated at the same time by someone else.”

Zo lifts his brows, silently asking what my nerd talk has to do with the price of tacos in Mexico.

“I think that’s what happened to us,” I continue. “We both met Banner at the same time in her life, and we saw something in her no one else saw yet. We made a spectacular discovery, and the rest of the world didn’t recognize it. Couldn’t see it when we could. It’s like we shared a secret, the two of us.”

“I get that,” he says quietly, lifting a speculative gaze to mine. “And how is it resolved? When two discover something at the same time?”

I shrug, shove my hands into the pocket of my pants.

“It becomes a matter of who tells the secret first,” I explain. “A rush to claim.”

“So are you saying if I had met Banner first, she would have chosen me?” Dark humor fills his eyes.

“No, I don’t think so,” I answer. “Banner is my opposite, but she’s my match.”

My equinox.

“The only way Banner would have chosen you,” I tell him frankly, honestly, “is if she’d never met me.”

We are magnets who distracted ourselves with career, family, other people for a decade, but ultimately couldn’t resist the pull of one another.

“And you? You would have chosen someone else?” he asks, but I think he already knows the answer.

“Probably not,” I answer quietly. “You’ll find someone else, Zo. I know you will, but Banner’s kinda my one shot.”

He nods, maybe starting to understand why I fought so hard for her. Why I bulldozed him and anything in my path. I’m not an easy man to love, and finding someone I can love for the rest of my life would be nearly impossible. Banner is my miracle. Maybe he gets that and can forgive me one day for doing whatever it took to have her.

The woman in question strides out to the terrace, her confident gait briefly broken when she sees the two of us together. She doesn’t voice the question written all over her face, but she’s probably discretely checking for blood.

“Zo, you’re supposed to wear this.” She holds up a facial mask. “A lot of good it’s doing by the punch bowl when you’re out here. I’m also not sure you should be out here. Sun’s going down, and there’s a little bit of a chill. Maybe you should—”

“Okay,” he cuts in, lips twisted in exasperation. “Bannini, I got it.”

Their eyes hold for a second. Hers concerned, his a little irritated but mostly indulgent.

“Alright, but you need to drink this.” She offers him a large cup and straw I hadn’t noticed her holding. “None of that food in there is safe. You wouldn’t be able to keep any of it down. This is sweet potato, lime, pineapple—

“I need to tell you something,” he interrupts, flicking a glance my way and then back to Banner before going on. “I hired a nurse to take care of me so you don’t have to do so much or come over all the time.”

Praise Jesus. I’m going to church every week from now on.

“A nurse?” Consternation wrinkles Banner’s expression. “Why? I can—”

“No, you can’t, Banner,” he says gently, firmly. “I need you not to for a while.”

She still looks confused, but I’m not. Zo needs to fall out of love with Banner and can’t while she’s there all the time being exactly the woman he wants.

“I personally think it’s a great idea,” I chime in, just in case they’re wondering.