He was beyond excited.

As he caught a pass and ran it for extra yards along the sidelines, he heard her interviewing one of the Panthers free agent pickups. He was a cornerback. And from what Harrison knew, he spoke only Spanish.

Carrie was interviewing him while speaking fluent Spanish. Was there anything this woman couldn't do?

It didn't help that the defense was practicing right next to where she was conducting her interview. Harrison could hear everything she said. She could speak to me in Spanish all day long, he thought. I wouldn't understand a word of it, but it sounds pretty damn good coming out of her mouth.

That was when she noticed him watching. "What are you looking at?"

Harrison looked away. Carrie took a break in her interview and was now watching him practice. "Say that in Spanish," he teased.

"¿Qué estás mirando?" Then she decided to tease him more. "¿Algo más que tengas que decir?"

"What was that?"

"Anything else you have to say?"

He bit his lip. "Nope."

"Vuelve a la práctica."

He didn't have to understand Spanish to know what that meant. Harrison playfully shook his head and focused back on practice.

❺❾

After practice, he met her outside the practice facility. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

Carrie smiled. "I speak French too."

"Let me hear it."

"Je t'aime."

"What was that?"

"I'm not telling you. You're going to have to figure it out yourself."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Please."

"Ne peut faire."

"How did you learn to speak all these languages?"

She laughed. "It's only three languages," she teased. "During the summers when I was in college, I had an internship with the Dodgers sideline reporter. And during games when we weren't doing a whole lot, I talked with the players. A lot of Major League Baseball players speak Spanish. When we were watching games, they would teach me Spanish and I'd teach them English. Then my mom took me to Paris for a family vacation and I realized I wanted to learn French too."

"Is there anything you can't do?"

They reached his truck. "I don't know."

Harrison loaded his things in the truck as she jumped in the front seat. Today he was taking her to his home. And she was going to meet Wilson.

When he jumped in the drivers seat, he desperately wanted to hear her say something else in Spanish or French. "Please?"

"Why?"

"Because it sounds so good coming from you."

"What is it, my accent?"

"Maybe."

That was it. When she spoke French or Spanish, the languages made her seem like she had an accent.

She looked over at him. "Alright, fine."

"Mi amor es increíble. Es guapo, fuerte, cariñoso y carismático. Él es mi todo."

"And what's that?"

"Espero que me haga la pregunta que he estado esperando para escuchar."

He stopped at a red light. "Are you going to make me guess all that?"

The present smile on her face, stretched even wider. "Maybe I should."

"Just tell me."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Please."

Carrie laughed. "Well, I called you my love, and-"

"Woah."

She punched his arm. "You wanted me to explain this to you."

"I'm listening."

"Then I described what I liked about you and thought about something I was hoping for you to ask me."

Harrison knew exactly what that was. He planned on asking her tonight, after dinner. At the next red light, he decided to ask her now. Pulling out his phone, he quickly opened Google and typed in a few things.

"Carrie, ¿quieres ser mi novia?"

Her face lit up at his question. "¡Sí, me encantaría!"

"What does that mean?"

"That means I'd love to be your girlfriend silly."

She leaned across the center console of his truck and kissed him. "Je t'aime."

He remembered her saying that earlier. That was in French. And Carrie said he'd have to figure it out for himself. So Harrison was determined to figure it out by the end of the night.

❺❾

After the half hour drive, Harrison pulled into his driveway. Carrie didn't even know there was a house there. In fact, when he turned off the road, she almost asked him where he was going. There were plenty of trees in the front yard, completely blocking his house from the road.

He pulled in the garage next to the blue car she'd seen before. Then on the other side, was a car with a cover on it. Carrie followed him into the house where a German shepherd bounded around the kitchen counter. "That's Wilson."

Aside from Gary and his tongue, Wilson was the cutest dog she'd ever seen. He was a little bigger than a puppy, but not big enough to be an adult. And he was so adorable.

Carrie knelt down as he ran over. "You are so adorable."

He barked and it sounded still like a squeak. Then as she started to pet him, he rolled on his back and demanded a belly rub.

"Where'd you get him?"

Harrison turned around from unpacking his bag to see Carrie on both knees rubbing Wilson's belly. "I got him from the shelter."

She continued to rub his belly. "Why was a cutie like you in the shelter?"

"He was one of the last two left in the litter. A family was looking at both of them and chose the other one since he looked more like a true German shepherd. He was the more eager one to want a home. So I took him."

Wilson's back was all black as well as most of his legs. Then his paws and some of his face were the normal dark brown.

"Well, I think you're adorable," she told him.