Rockstar’s Accidental Marriage (Wild Band Rockstars #2)

33. Thirty-Three

Thirty-Three

Emily

Sam’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white under the dim light of the dashboard. The sound of the truck’s engine rumbles softly beneath us. But the tension still lingers in the air.

I lean my head back against the seat, exhaustion weighing down my limbs. The events of the last hour swirling in my mind—Jeb’s confession, the fire, the police. But more than anything, I can’t stop thinking about Sam. The way he ran into that burning bus without hesitation. The way he held me after, as if letting go wasn’t an option.

He saved me and our baby. The thought sends a wave of emotion flowing through me, and I sniffle, wiping tears from my eyes.

“You okay?” Sam’s voice breaks through my thoughts, soft and cautious.

I glance over at him. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I think so.”

His lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, his grip on the wheel loosens, and he exhales heavily.

“I was scared today, Em,” he admits, his voice low. “When I heard you were on that bus... I’ve never felt fear like that before. It was like the world just stopped.”

His confession catches me off guard, and my chest tightens. “Sam—”

He shakes his head, cutting me off. “I know I don’t always say the right things. I know I’ve screwed up, made you doubt my feelings.”

Fresh tears trickle down my cheeks, and I silently wipe them away.

“But Emily,” he continues, his voice cracking slightly, “I love you. I’ve loved you for longer than I want to admit. And I’m sorry if I’m terrible at showing it sometimes—I just need you to know.”

The truck slows as he pulls into our gravel drive. He shifts into park but doesn’t move, his hands still resting on the wheel.

I stare at him, my heart thundering in my chest. “Sam...”

He finally turns to look at me, his green eyes raw and unguarded. “I love you, Em,” he repeats, the words firm and unwavering.

Emotion wells up inside me, and I reach out, cupping his face with both hands. “I love you too,” I whisper, my voice thick with tears. “I—I wanted to believe that you felt the same. Oh, Sam. These past few weeks—I thought—I thought I was losing you.”

His eyes soften, and he leans into my touch, his forehead pressing against mine. “You’ll never lose me,” he murmurs. “Never.”

We sit there, holding onto each other. Neither of us wants to admit just how bad things could have ended today. If Sam hadn’t run into that bus–

“Come on,” he says finally, his voice gentle. “Let’s go inside.”

He opens my door and helps me out, his hand steady as he gently guides me to the house.

Sam turns to me, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You need to rest,” he says softly.

“I’m fine,” I insist, but the exhaustion in my voice betrays me.

He smiles a crooked, boyish grin that makes my heart flip. “Humor me.”

He then scoops me gently into his arms and carries me upstairs. When we reach the bedroom, he helps me out of my clothes and slips off his. Crawling into bed with me, he reaches out and pulls me close. Cradling me tenderly against his chest.

“Emily,” he says, his voice husky with emotion. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving how much I love you. You and our baby—my girls—you’re my life now.”

Tears spill down my cheeks, and I laugh softly, swiping at them. “You don’t have to prove anything, Sam. I already know.”

He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to my lips, and in that moment, everything feels right.

As he pulls back, he smiles. “Good. But I’m still going to try.”

I laugh, and the sound is light and free. “You make me happy, Sam Ryder,” I simply say as I rest my head on his shoulder.

Tomorrow will bring its challenges, but for tonight, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be—safe in the arms of the man I love–and who loves me.

With the whirlwind caused by Jeb and Derrick’s arrest, the band has been inundated with requests for comments and interviews. Of course, I accepted as many spots as possible to take advantage of the free publicity.

However, with all the hoopla, our Vegas wedding is again plastered across social media. Every news outlet and fan page seem to have the same image: me in a simple white sundress and Sam in his leather jacket, standing in front of the Elvis impersonator in full costume.

Sam keeps gently asking me if I remember anything more about our wedding, but the photos don’t spark anything except frustration. It’s like looking at a picture of someone else’s life. I’m in the frame, but the details of that night feel just out of reach.

He hasn’t given me the wedding band he had crafted, and I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed. It’s a question I’ve been avoiding, as knowing he loves me is more than enough. The last few days have been wonderful, and I know it will only get better as our love seems to deepen every day.

Today, Sam is scheduled for an interview with a wildly popular talk show host, and I’m looking forward to joining him afterward for lunch.

I’m walking through the lobby on my way to the studio when a child catches my attention. He’s tugging at his mother’s sleeve, pointing eagerly at a bubble gum dispenser near the elevators. The mother hands him a coin, and the boy scrambles over to twist the knob. The plastic container with the prize inside rolls down the chute and skitters across the floor with a distinct, hollow clatter.

That sound—I stop, my breath catching in my throat as the noise triggers something deep inside me—like a key turning in a long-locked door. The memories flood back with startling clarity, each detail precious and perfect.

The neon lights of Vegas are bright and dizzying. Sam’s hand in mine as he pulled me down the Strip, both of us laughing deliriously. The bubble gum dispenser inside the casino, where I’d impulsively turned the knob, declaring it a sign when the prize inside was a plastic ring. Sam’s lopsided grin as he kissed me. Then, trying himself for a ring, but it took another half a dozen tries before his ring came down the shoot and skittered across the floor. We laughingly chased after it, scooping it up in triumph. Later at the wedding chapel, as we lovingly slid the bands onto each other’s fingers, the words he whispered as he held my hand: “I love you, Emily.”

It all comes rushing back. The way his voice softened when he said, “I’ve loved you since that day you ate that silly cupcake.” The way I answered, “I love you too, Sam,” before pulling him into a kiss that promised him forever. My eyes blur with quietly unshed tears as the memories settle into place, clear and vivid. It wasn’t a drunken mistake. It was perfect: romantic, silly, and entirely us.

The enormity of it leaves me unsteady on my feet. I blink rapidly, pulling myself back to the present. Reaching into my purse, I pull out the plastic ring and slip it onto my finger with a soft smile. Sam is waiting for me at the studio, and now, more than ever, I need to see him.

When I arrive at the recording studio, the receptionist directs me toward the set where Sam sits with the host. As I approach, I catch the tail end of the hostess’s dramatic, bubbly voice. She’s known for her over-the-top gestures and love of surprises.

A crew member approaches, and I’m ushered forward. To my shock, the hostess turns to the camera with a gleeful smile and announces, “And here she is, the woman everyone’s been dying to hear from—Emily Wild Ryder! Come on out, Emily!”

Sam’s head snaps around, his expression a mix of surprise and concern as I’m practically pushed onto the stage. The audience bursts into applause, and I feel like a deer in headlights.

“Emily, thank you so much for joining us,” the hostess gushes, motioning to the seat beside Sam. “Now, I know this is unexpected, but everyone’s been talking about your Vegas whirlwind romance and that unforgettable wedding. We just have to know, was it as spontaneous as it looked?”

I glance at Sam, whose expression is unreadable. Taking a deep breath, I let the memory of that night guide my words.

“It was spontaneous,” I begin, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. “It was also… very romantic. The most romantic night of my life.”

The hostess eagerly leans forward, her eyes wide. “Tell us about it, please!”

I smile, my gaze lingering on Sam, and everything feels right. The words naturally flow because they're true—they've always been true.

“It started as a dare. Sam mentioned that he was an Elvis fan and how Elvis had inspired him to pick up a guitar. I confessed my favorite song was by Elvis. One thing led to another, and we confessed our feelings. Before we knew it, we were standing outside a wedding chapel.”

A picture of us taken by the officiant splashes across the screen.

Sam suddenly reaches over and takes my hand in his with a smile as the show’s host turns back to us.

My eyes lock on Sam’s, “We laughed at the speed of it all, but we were serious about our feelings and our future. We wanted to get married.”

“And now?” the hostess prompts eagerly.

I look at Sam, my heart swelling. “And I still do,” I pause, my voice thick with emotion. “I love Sam, and I know he loves me and our baby.”

The audience lets out a collective “Aww,” and the hostess claps her hands together. “That is one of the sweetest love stories I’ve ever heard.” Her eyes catch the plastic ring on my left hand. “And the bubble gum ring you’re wearing? What’s that all about?”

Sam chuckles, his hand finding mine. “It was all her,” he says, his voice warm. “Emily saw the dispenser and declared it fate. Said if the prize was a ring, it was meant to be.”

The hostess squeals with delight. “Was it a ring?”

I nod, laughing through my tears. “It was a ring.”

“That ring meant something to both of us. It was the start of everything.” Sam pauses, then goes down on bended knee, pulling the velvet box from his pocket.

“Emily Wild Ryder, would you marry me all over again?” he asks, opening the box.

“Of course, Sam. I love you!” I say tearfully, pulling him to his feet.

He slowly removes the plastic ring and slips on a beautiful diamond ring, followed by the gold wedding band. He then takes me in his arms and kisses me passionately, and the audience goes wild.

Sam pulls out a matching wedding band and hands it to me to slip on his finger. I do with trembling hands.

The hostess quickly wraps up the show, admiring both our rings as the credits roll.

“I’ll be sending you a thank you letter for upping our ratings,” she says with a smirk. “This couldn’t have gone better if I’d planned it. We’ll want a close-up of the plastic and gold rings. Showing they’re a perfect match.”

Leaving the set is a blur. My heart is light, and the memories of our wedding are no longer a mystery–reminding me of the love that brought us together in the first place as Sam escorts me outside, his arm securely around my shoulders.

Sam pulls me into a quiet corner, his hands resting on my shoulders. “What all do you remember?” he asks, his eyes gently searching mine.

I smile, leaning into him. “I remember everything, Sam.”

His eyes gleam, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. He pulls me into a fierce hug, his lips urgently brushing mine. “I’m so glad, Emily. You have no idea how happy that makes me. It’s been hell. Me, remembering how special it was, and you—not remembering.”

“I’m so sorry, Sam. Champagne does that to me. I had already had a few drinks, not enough to be drunk,” I assure him. “But when we returned to the room, the hotel gave us that complimentary bottle…” My voice trails off as I look up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me, Sam?” I ask quietly, “Why didn’t you remind me of what really happened? Instead, you acted like it was all a drunken mistake.”

Sam grimaces, admitting, “I didn’t know what to do. So I played dumb.” Tightening his arms around me, he says ruefully, “Figured you’d eventually remember… but you never did.”

“Until now,” I tell him softly, allowing all my love to shine fully from my eyes.