But I didn’t care that I was sitting in a cramped coach seat versus the luxury leather recliners on the team’s jet. I didn’t care that I was dead on my feet and about one blink away from falling into a coma. I just wanted to get home to my husband.
I slid my earbuds in and reclined my chair back the measly two inches it was willing to go. I was ready for the time to pass at full speed so I could be in my bed, all wrapped up in Kline. Never Been Kissed was the courtesy movie for my flight home, and I couldn’t deny my excitement.
Even though that movie came out forever ago, it will always have one of my favorite endings. Sam Coulson running down the stadium steps.
“Don’t Worry Baby” by The Beach Boys playing in the background.
The crowd cheering.
Josie Gellar watching him stride toward her.
And then, that kiss. How he just grabs her and kisses the fuck out of her.
Yeah. Talk about cinematic perfection.
I could remember watching that movie when I was young and just wishing, hoping, fucking praying I’d get my Josie Gellar, “Don’t Worry Baby” moment. I’d truly believed that everyone got to experience one of those epically romantic moments once in their lives.
I had mine with Kline when he stood in his office—proving to me that he was every bit of the man I knew he was—and got down on one knee, asking me to spend the rest of my life with him. He’d lived up to the fantasy and then some. Sure, we’d had other amazing, swoony moments, but that one topped the rest by a landslide.
Damn, I miss my husband.
The flight had been long, and despite my valiant efforts to catch some shut-eye, I stayed wide-eyed and fidgety the whole way. After navigating my way out of baggage claim, I hopped in a cab and headed home.
I was nearly vibrating with excitement over surprising Kline.
The cab ride was short and sweet thanks to the time of morning, and with no rush-hour traffic or random construction delays to stop my progress, I was out of the cab and onto our elevator within 30 minutes.
I slipped in through the door, toeing off my heels and locking the dead bolt with a soft click. Leaving my suitcase and purse in the entry, I tiptoed down the dark hall and stopped at the doorway of our bedroom. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, it didn’t take long to find myself very, very confused by the number of figures lying in our bed. As I moved farther into the room, my night vision transitioned completely, and what I saw had me stopping dead in my tracks.
Kline lay on his back in his familiar sleeping pose—one leg hanging out from beneath the blankets and an arm strewn across his abdomen. And Walter was in his familiar spot, curled up at the foot of the bed.
But he wasn’t alone.
Nope.
Stan was sleeping soundly on my side of the bed, his giant head resting on my pillow. And his little buddy Walter was pressed up against his stretched out legs.
Kline Brooks had officially caved on Stan.
Jesus. Could he be any swoonier?
I needed to thank him. A lot. Because hell, I was pretty sure he had just given me another “Don’t Worry Baby” moment.
Quietly, so as not to disturb my husband, I roused Walter and Stan awake, encouraging them to slip off the bed and out of our bedroom.
Stan followed my lead with puppy-like movements, his long tail wagging and paws awkwardly tapping against the hardwood floor. Walter was less enthused, but he followed nonetheless. I had a feeling it had more to do with his boyfriend than me, but I’d take what I could get.
Guiding them into the living room, I threw an old comforter on the couch and got them settled. Within a few minutes, my two boys were sawing logs, adorably cuddled up to one another.
When I returned to the bedroom, Kline was still where I had left him, deep in sleep and looking sexy as hell with bedhead and only a pair of boxer briefs and a thin sheet covering his body.
I quickly got undressed and climbed onto the foot of the bed, crawled under the covers and stopped once I reached the waistband of his boxer briefs. When my fingers started to slide them down, Kline stirred in his sleep, his eyes blinking in confusion.
“What the…? Georgie?”
“Hi, baby,” I whispered, tugging his briefs down just enough to reveal his…oh, yeah.
“What are you doing home so early?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes feverishly.
“I was missing you too much.”
“What time is it?” His voice was thick and groggy.
“It’s time for me to thank my amazing husband.”
His brows lifted. “I like where this is headed, but what exactly are you thanking me for?”
I straddled his hips, leaning forward to brush my mouth against his. “You caved on Stan,” I said, tugging on his bottom lip.
He grinned. “Oh, yeah, Stan.”
“Oh, yeah, him. The giant dog that was just sleeping on my pillow.”
Kline laughed as his fingers slid into my hair, tangling with the loose curls. “Walter’s boyfriend snores, by the way. A lot.”
I giggled, but I needed to ask, “What made you change your mind?”