Chapter Twenty-Two #2

“For making all of my dreams come true. For being my person.

For just being you.”

I want to say more, but sleep claims me before I can utter

another word.

But I know I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

I love a man of action.

Christian made all our arrangements and even packed for both

of us while I handled endless calls and texts. Nora had several interviews

lined up for me, and between them and talking to family, I have almost no

voice.

But it’s been so worth it.

Now, as we board the red-eye flight to Florida, I’m looking

forward to rest.

We’ve mastered the art of sleeping on planes after so many

years of traveling, and I’m relieved we’ll wake up in the morning slightly

refreshed so we can hit the ground running with our families.

It takes several minutes of pulling out pillows, eye masks,

earplugs, and whatnot before we can safely tuck our bags under our seats. It’s

not like we’ll instantly fall asleep, but everything is now comfortably within

reach, so we can settle in.

“You’re a genius,” I murmur.

“Me? How do you figure that?”

“I didn’t think it would be possible for us to get on a

plane in less than twenty-four hours.”

The look he gives me is a little cocky, but adorable.

“Seriously? We’ve flown on shorter notice before.”

“No, I know that, but this trip was trickier because you had

no idea how long those interviews would be.”

“That’s why we’re on the red eye. There was no way you would

still be talking to any entertainment sites at ten at night. This was the safe

choice.”

“Brilliant.” I sigh happily and secure my seat belt. “I love

that our moms are working together to coordinate lunch tomorrow. I can’t wait

to see everyone, and for everyone to meet Emmy. She’s a member of the family

now,” I say with a giggle. “Oh, I can’t wait for Emmy to meet MVP!” referring

to Christian’s World Series MVP trophy.

She’s lovingly packed in my carry-on suitcase in the

overhead bin. There was no way I was trusting her in any checked luggage.

“You are going to be celebrated for sure,” he says, taking

my hand and linking our fingers together. “I can’t even imagine how many people

will be there.”

“The last head count was twenty-seven. Not including us.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

We sit back and people watch for a few minutes, and I don’t

fully relax until the pilot announces that we are clear for takeoff.

That’s when I know it’s almost time to go to sleep.

Only…I don’t.

The flight attendants do a quick offering of snacks and

beverages, and we decide to eat and drink a little something. I watch a few

episodes of a home renovation show to help me unwind, but by the third episode,

I’ve lost interest. Yet I’m still not quite ready to doze off.

Which is weird for me.

It’s quiet in that strange way airplanes always are after

midnight—dimmed lights, a low hum, shadows of strangers tucked beneath

blankets. Christian’s hand is warm, threaded through mine where it rests

between us, and even though I should be exhausted after the craziness of the

last few days, I’m wide awake.

He shifts slightly, tilting his head toward me. “You okay?”

he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.

“I’m fine,” I whisper back. “I don’t know why I’m still

awake.”

He smiles, eyes barely open. “I promise no one’s going to

steal your Emmy. They’ll have to get through me first. I’m all over it.” The

words are barely out before he yawns.

I roll my eyes, even as warmth fills my chest. “My hero.”

“We don’t all wear capes,” he says, soft amusement in his

voice, but then his eyes meet mine. His expression grows serious. “I’m proud of

you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being proud of you.”

I swallow, trying not to get emotional at thirty thousand

feet. “Thank you. I’m still processing it. It feels unreal. Like I borrowed

someone else’s moment.”

“Yeah,” he says gently, squeezing my hand. “Except you

didn’t. You earned it. You worked for it. And I got the best seat in the world,

watching it happen.”

I lean into his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his

breathing. “The next few days are going to be crazy,” I whisper. “Family chaos.

Pictures. Hugs. My mom crying…”

“Your dad pretending he isn’t,” he adds with a grin I can

hear more than see.

“And maybe yours finally being impressed.”

“I don’t know. He could surprise you,” he says, a quiet

laugh beneath his breath.

We fall into a comfortable silence; each temporarily lost in

our own thoughts.

“Hey,” he murmurs after a moment, softer now. “I’m glad we

get this time. Just us. Even if it is in cramped airplane seats.”

“Me, too,” I whisper. “Right now feels…good.”

He turns his head and presses a light kiss to my temple.

“Get some sleep, Mrs. Emmy Winner.”

I let my eyes close, the world narrowing to his warmth, the

muted hum of the plane, and the steady certainty of the man beside me.

“Only if you do, too,” I murmur.

“Already ahead of you,” he breathes. His hand stays in mine

as we finally drift off to sleep.

The airport’s quiet as we walk to baggage claim and

then head over to pick up our rental car. I wouldn’t say I’m well-rested, but

I’m mildly refreshed.

Christian loads our luggage into the trunk, and when he’s

seated behind the wheel, he’s all smiles.

He is definitely more of a morning person than I am.

At least today he is.

“Hey, so it’s obviously super early, and I don’t think I’m

ready to jump into the whole family chaos yet. How would you like to stop for

breakfast?”

It’s not the worst idea.

“Sure. That sounds good. Where do you want to go?”

“I was talking to my brother last week, and he mentioned

this new place he said makes the best breakfasts. Like…the best omelets, the

best waffles, muffins as big as your head…”

I start to laugh, even as my stomach growls. “Well, now we

have to go. The best omelets and muffins as big as your head? That

sounds too good to pass up.”

“Excellent!”

The drive from the airport is familiar, and we can

practically do it on autopilot. And while I’m curious about where this

restaurant is, I assume it’s on the way.

We’re going to my parents’ house first, and I wonder if I

should text and let them know we’re stopping to eat before we get there.

“Uh-oh…”

Turning his head, Christian frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“You know my mom is probably planning on us eating breakfast

with them. I should probably let her know so she’s not worried, right?”

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” he murmurs. “So…yeah, sure.

Text her and let her know where we’re at.”

“Okay.” And I do.

The second I slip my phone back into my purse, my eyes start

drifting shut. I am feeling the effects of the red-eye flight now.

“How much longer until we’re there?” I ask.

“About twenty-five minutes. Don’t worry. I’ll wake you,” he

assures me, and I happily drift off.

It’s only when I feel the car come to a complete stop that I

open my eyes. “Are we there?”

I sleepily look around, not recognizing anything. We’re not

in a restaurant parking lot. We’re in a residential neighborhood. But not one

that either of our families lives in. This one looks like it’s still under

construction.

“Um…Christian?”

“Hmm?”

“Are we lost?”

“I told you, we’re going to breakfast.” He says it so

casually, so lightly. Like it makes perfect sense.

But it doesn’t.

“There’s a restaurant in the middle of a neighborhood?” I

ask with amusement, straightening in my seat. There aren’t many houses, but

several are under construction. “I’m so confused right now.”

He reaches over and gives my thigh an affectionate squeeze.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be there in like two minutes.”

I laugh nervously. “Where?”

The only answer I get is a soft chuckle.

We drive past a few more unfinished homes until we stop in

front of one of them.

“We’re here,” he says, as if it explains everything.

I look at the house and then back at my husband. “Okay, am I

still asleep? Because there is no way a house under construction serves

breakfast. It’s just not possible,” I joke.

Beside me, Christian twists in his seat to face me. And, in

his typical, loving way, takes my hand in his.

“The other night—after we got home from the awards show—you

said something to me that…well…didn’t sit right.”

All I can do is stare because I have no idea what he’s

talking about.

“You told me I made all your dreams come true,” he said

gruffly, his thumb gently stroking my wrist. “That wasn’t exactly true.”

“What are you even talking about? Of course, it’s true. Our

entire relationship…all the things we’ve done…”

“Please,” he says quietly. “I need to say this.”

So, I sit and patiently wait.

“That first move to St. Louis, you told me you were

disappointed because you envisioned our lives in California. It was close to

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