Deck His Balls (Spice and Seduction)

Epilogue

Tricia

ONE YEAR LATER

The new gymnasium gleams in the December morning light as I pull into the parking lot for our annual Christmas basketball camp. Joel and I spent months planning every detail of this place, from the polished hardwood floors to the state-of-the-art lighting system. Our shared dream made real in steel and glass.

I’m running a few minutes late—unusual for me, but Jasmine’s baby had other ideas about my morning schedule. As I push through the double doors, I hear the familiar squeak of basketball shoes and Joel’s deep voice calling out instructions.

My heart does that funny little skip it still does whenever I see him. He’s running drills with his boys’ team, looking perfectly at home in basketball shorts and a “Coach Mitchell” t-shirt that shows off those arms I love so much.

But something’s off. Where are my girls? They’re never late for practice.

“Hey, superstar,” Joel calls out, jogging over to press a kiss to my cheek. “You’re late.”

“Where are all my players?” I ask, scanning the surprisingly empty court. “Don’t tell me they’re all sick on the first day of camp.”

Joel’s eyes sparkle with barely contained mischief. “Oh, they’re here. Just changing into their new camp uniforms.”

Before I can question him further, the lights go out. My heart jumps, but then I hear the rhythmic stomp-clap pattern my girls have perfected over the holiday season.

“Coach Washington, coach Washington!” Their voices ring out in perfect unison. “Listen up, we’ve got something to say!”

Spotlights flicker on, illuminating my team arranged in formation at center court. They’re all wearing matching white and gold uniforms I’ve never seen before.

“There’s someone special who loves you so much, He built this gym just to keep us in touch. Coach Mitchell’s been planning this moment all year, Because you’re the one that he holds most dear!”

I laugh, even as tears prick my eyes. “What is this?”

The lights come up slowly, revealing our friends and family lining the court. Caress stands with happy tears streaming down her face while Dylan holds her close. Jasmine beams from her seat, her new baby girl sleeping peacefully in her arms.

And there’s Joel, down on one knee at center court, looking at me like I’m his championship trophy and MVP rolled into one.

“Tricia Washington,” he says, his voice carrying across the silent gym. “You’ve changed my whole game plan. Before you, I thought I had it all figured out. I had my career, success, and the perfect strategy for everything. Or so I thought. Then you came along with your competitive spirit and that huge heart of yours, and suddenly nothing made sense unless you were part of it.”

He pulls out a ring that catches the light like a star. “This past year has been the best of my life. Building this gym with you, watching you coach these amazing kids, falling more in love with you every single day… I want all of it, forever. The wins, the losses, the early morning practices, the late-night strategy sessions. I want it all with you.”

My vision blurs with tears as Joel takes my hand. “So, what do you say, Coach? Ready to make this a permanent partnership? Will you marry me?”

The answer’s been there all along, really. Since that first pickup game, since the charity auction, since every moment that led us here.

“Yes,” I manage through happy tears. “Yes, to all of it.”

The gym erupts in cheers as Joel slides the ring onto my finger and pulls me into his arms. Our girls start their victory chant, and I can hear Caress shouting, “That’s my brother and future sister-in-law!”

Joel’s forehead rests against mine. “I love you, Tricia Washington-soon-to-be-Mitchell.”

I laugh, my heart so full it might burst. “I love you too. But don’t think this means I’m going to go easy on you during practice.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grins. “Game on, baby. Game on.”