“Hey, Evan?” Henry called. “Sam said she’s crowning. What’s that mean? He’s sending me a picture.”
I stopped at the door and waited for him to join me. “That’s part of the birth, isn’t it? I think it’s when the baby’s head first pops out.”
His eyes flashed impossibly wide as he stopped in front of me. “Oh my God! He’s going to send me a picture of her vagina!” He threw his phone at me as though it had been a bomb set to explode at any second. “You have to look at it. You liked that kind of thing once, right?”
I curled my lip and threw it back at him. “Fuck no! I liked pussy. Not childbirth.”
He threw it back. “That’s just semantics. Take one for the team!”
I pressed my lips together but finally gave in and lifted the phone into my line of sight.
My chest seized.
I didn’t know Levee well. But she’d helped me get Henry back. That was one debt I’d never be able to repay. However, even without knowing anything else about her, like how much Henry loved her and she loved him, my smile still would have been unrivaled.
Sidling up beside him, I draped an arm around his waist and turned the phone his way.
On the screen was a picture of a beautiful baby girl with thick, brown hair feathering out from beneath a tiny, golden tiara while she blissfully slept in her mother’s arms.
The caption at the bottom read Hurry up, Uncle Henry. The princess needs a diaper change.
“Oh my God,” he breathed, pulling the phone from my hand to inspect the picture closer. “She’s gorgeous.”
I rubbed his back. “She really is.”
“I’m an uncle.” He lifted his eyes to mine, tears of joy sparkling in the sea of blue.
Pressing my lips to his temple, I murmured, “You ready to go meet her?”
“I just flew on a plane. And no offense to the pilot, but it was horrible,” he announced randomly.
I tipped my head and smirked. “Well, no offense to the spoiled rock star, but it wasn’t my fault.”
His hand landed on my chest, and his thumb traced the ridge of my pec. “It was the best flight I’ve ever been on. I couldn’t stop smiling. And laughing. I’m pretty sure Carter thought I’d lost my mind.”
I swayed my head from side to side in consideration. “You told me you love me too. There’s a strong possibility you did.”
His gaze turned serious, and he leaned forward and nipped at my bottom lip. “I’ll fly with you again.”
“Good to know,” I mumbled against his mouth.
He swept his tongue with mine before saying, “And, in the words of Optimus Prime, knowing is half the battle.”
I leaned away, shooting him a frown. “Optimus Prime? Still?” I feigned injury, clenching my heart. “You’re going to kill me.” Using my other hand, I gripped the back of his neck and guided him out the plane door.
“Not today,” he replied over his shoulder. “You promised me longer tonight, though we both know length is my specialty.”
I released him when he took his first step down. Then, when he got to the second one, I slapped his ass. “All right, smartass. That’s enough out of you.”
When he reached the bottom, he turned to face me, his bright smile only outdone by his eyes. “Let’s go meet our niece, Maverick.”
And just like that, I realized that maybe my home wasn’t in the sky anymore.
With Henry, I could soar with both feet on the ground.
Five years later…
“SHAWN!” I CALLED from my chair behind the soundboard in my studio.
Evan was sitting beside me, his hand firmly planted on my thigh as he nervously spun his wedding ring.
Yep. We’d done it. Evan and I had gotten married in a quaint ceremony with only our immediate family and friends in attendance.
However, judging by his eyes when he saw the wedding plans, he hadn’t considered four hundred guests, a horse-drawn carriage, and a castle in Scotland quaint or private. But like a trooper, he said not a single word as he walked away, shaking his head. Really, his only objection to the whole process was when I asked him to wear a kilt. I fully explained the merits of its easy access, but he wasn’t buying it. And, as much as I would have enjoyed the kilt, he looked even more edible in a black Armani suit the day we said I do.
Shawn’s dark-brown hair peeked around the corner before he slunk back out of sight.
A year after Evan and I had gotten married, I’d stopped touring. He hated being on the road all the time, even though we’d taken to flying a good bit. I loved performing, but I had to admit having a stable home with my husband sounded like the stuff fairytales were made out of.
And it was.
So fucking incredible.
Waking up with him. Wandering out to my private studio in the backyard. Levee coming over so we could write songs together, just like the old days. Then calling it a day and coming home to him.