Epilogue
Two years later
Dallas, Texas
Bristol examined the triple-layer chocolate espresso cake with the salted caramel drizzle and nodded.
The ganache had set perfectly, and the edible flowers along the base gave it the kind of effortless elegance she wanted viewers to feel they could pull off at home.
It was indulgent but not intimidating—her whole brand in a single dessert.
Jayla circled the cake with a critical eye, then flashed her a grin. “That looks amazing. If this doesn’t make people lick their screens, nothing will.”
“I just want them to try making it. It’s only four steps if you don’t count crying while you wait for the ganache to cool.”
“Five steps. You forgot eating half the caramel with a spoon.”
Bristol laughed. Having Jayla here—first as her best friend, then as her co-producer/assistant—had made the move to Dallas bearable and then wonderful. They’d found a rhythm, both on set and off, that felt like the life she’d always wanted and never dreamed she’d be able to build.
Jayla studied her face, her smile turning upside down into a frown. “You look washed out. Tyler!” She waved the makeup artist over. “Give her more blush. She can’t look like a cadaver on camera.”
“I’m fine,” Bristol protested.
“We’re rolling in twenty minutes. Fine doesn’t cut it.” Jayla gave her a look that dared her to argue.
Mutely, Bristol submitted to Tyler’s brush. Normally, she’d make herself heard. She didn’t let anyone run her over anymore. But today there were extenuating circumstances. Today was…special. She’d explain to Jayla once she could.
As that thought circled, her phone buzzed on the nearby counter. Bristol glanced at the screen. Presleigh.
“Hey, you. I can’t talk long. We’re about to tape.”
“That’s okay. I just called to wish you a happy early anniversary. I can’t believe you and Jesse have almost been married a year! And I wanted to hear your voice. But everything is fine. Just call me back when you can. No rush.”
Her sister sounded lighter these days, more grounded.
Losing Hayden, then Corey months after their June wedding two years ago had nearly broken her, but single motherhood had done what pageants and coddling never could.
It had forced Presleigh to figure out who she was without a man defining her.
She’d found the strength to pick herself up by her bootstraps and carry on all by herself.
Bristol was sorry for what her sister had been through, but it had given Presleigh the hard lessons she’d needed.
She’d finally grown up, and Bristol was proud of the woman Pres was becoming.
In the background, a toddler shrieked with laughter, and something in Bristol’s chest went soft.
“Aww, I hear my pretty little niece. Give Jordan a kiss for me. I’ll call you tonight after we wrap.”
“Perfect. I’ll be done with my online class by then. Love you, Bris.”
“Love you, too.”
She pocketed her phone as Tyler finished her touch-up. The director, a wiry woman named Grace who ran the set with calm precision, stepped over to adjust the cake’s position under the lights. “We’re going to open on you at the counter. Will Jesse be here today?”
That was the great thing about the show they’d created.
It wasn’t just about her and her confections.
Mostly…but Jesse was welcome anytime the mood struck him.
And he appeared on camera a lot—not because anyone demanded it, but because he wanted to share the experience with her.
That freedom had been the whole point. No handlers, no publicists dictating his schedule, no image to perform.
Some episodes he wandered in with his guitar.
Others, he stayed in his home studio down the hall, writing.
If he wasn’t feeling like Jesse McCall the rock star, the “product” on any given day, he could just be Jesse the man. Her husband and the love of her life.
It was the perfect solution for them.
“Any minute, I think. He said he wanted to be here.”
“Great.” Grace smiled, looking at something just over her shoulder. “Ready for him now?”
“Always.” Bristol turned.
And her heart flipped over.
Jesse stood in the doorway to the studio, guitar slung across his body, smiling in a way she’d come to know as well as her own reflection.
Not the rock-star grin with the calculated dimples—the real one, slightly lopsided, a little boyish, the one he wore when he had a secret.
Or the one that tilted his lips when he’d written something he was proud of.
The cameras wouldn’t catch the difference.
The audience at home would simply see Jesse McCall, chart-topping songwriter and television personality. Bristol simply saw her husband.
He crossed the set and slid an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. “How’s my beautiful wife?”
Bristol smiled up at him, but her stomach fluttered with something new. Something nervous. She was going to have to tell him soon. They hadn’t planned this. Hadn’t even talked about it, like they did everything else. She just hoped he wouldn’t be upset.
“Good.”
“You look great.” His grin widened.
Crazy. A year of marriage and he could still make her blush so easily. “You do, too. And you seem excited. Care to share?”
“I wrote something this morning. It just…poured out.” His dark eyes were lit up, alive in a way that still made her heart skip. “Played it for Dan. He’s losing his mind. Naturally, he wants me to record it.”
“Naturally. What are you going to do?”
She smiled. Everyone always wanted Jesse to record his own songs. He wrote hits for other artists now—Grammy-winning, chart-topping hits—but the industry never stopped trying to pull him back to center stage. The difference was, these days, the choice was his.
He shrugged. “We’ll talk about it.”
And they would. They’d learned to talk about everything they were thinking or feeling.
She loved that he didn’t make those decisions without her, just like she never made big choices without him.
They’d only been married a year, but it had been the best year of her life.
Whatever she’d imagined marriage could be, the reality was better.
Messier, louder, more complicated—and infinitely more joyful.
She was living a dream come true—not because she was married to a famous man, but because she was married to an amazing person who loved her unconditionally.
“After the taping, I’m all yours,” she said, steadying her voice.
He tilted his head, reading her the way he always did. “You okay?”
“Perfect. Let’s do this.”
“Let’s do it.” Then he glanced down at the cake and groaned. “What did you make for today?”
She felt her cheeks heat and her belly flip again. “A slightly early anniversary cake.”
With a twist.
What if he didn’t love it?
Jesse raised a dark brow at her as Grace called places. The lights warmed. Bristol stepped behind her counter, centering herself the way she did every episode—hands on the cool surface, a breath in, a breath out. It worked…kind of. But today was different.
She tried not to pass out.
“Welcome back to Sweet Cinns.” She beamed at the camera, feeling the familiar comfort of doing what she loved.
“I’m Bristol McCall, and today we’re making a triple-layer chocolate espresso cake with salted caramel that’s going to ruin you for every other dessert.
And I’ve got a special guest with me—my husband, Jesse, who’s brought his guitar today. ”
Jesse settled onto the stool beside her, the instrument resting easily against his body. “She says special guest. I say I showed up for the cake.”
The crew laughed. Bristol walked through the recipe, guiding the audience through each layer.
Jesse taste-tested the caramel and nearly swooned off his stool, which made her laugh.
This was their rhythm—easy, unscripted, real.
Everything his old life hadn’t been. Everything her old life had been missing.
When she reached the reveal, her nerves kicked in. Her heart started hammering.
“Now, the anniversary version of this cake has a little surprise inside.” She set the finished cake between them and handed Jesse the knife. “Why don’t you do the honors?”
He paused, his gaze probing like he was trying to figure her out. Then he took the knife, cutting a clean wedge and lifting it free. The layers pulled apart—one unmistakably pink, the other unmistakably blue.
Jesse went very still.
“Honey?” He set the knife down slowly and turned to her. His dark eyes searched her face—stunned, wide, steady. “Are you… Is this…” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “We’re having a baby?”
Bristol nodded, tears spilling before she could stop them. “We’re having a baby. I found out yesterday.”
She’d been on the fence about doing this reveal on camera.
She’d baked a cake without the colored layers for the camera.
She’d planned to save the special version just for him, to tell him after the taping, in private.
But she’d wanted to share their joy with the world, and instinct told her that he’d agree.
Besides, their life had always been a little unscripted, and standing here with flour on her apron and his stunned expression lingering in her head…
This felt exactly right.
Jesse pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground. She felt his chest shudder against hers and knew he was crying. When he set her down, he cradled her face and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.
“I wrote a song for our baby,” he murmured against her mouth.
Bristol pulled back, blinking. “How did you—”
“Know?” He dropped his head close to her ear, his voice low enough that the microphones wouldn’t catch it.
“Honey, I know your body. I’ve noticed some changes.
” He smiled, and the tenderness in it nearly undid her.
“I’ve been hoping we could start a family.
I didn’t know if you were ready, and I didn’t want to push. But…this is perfect.”