Epilogue
One Year Later
My eye was probably going to be permanently damaged because of how much I was watching Tate out of the corner of it.
We were lying on the couch in our apartment, my production company’s channel pulled up on the TV. We had a bowl of popcorn on my lap and a homemade mix of our favorite ice cream flavors on his. We’d just started buying the chocolate and strawberry and mixing them to make it easier.
A debut movie called Guarding Her Heart came on the screen.
“Nice,” Tate said, a fistful of buttery popcorn in his hands. “Did you pick that title?”
“No. But it’s not the worst I’ve heard.”
He smiled but said nothing as we watched a few of the credits appearing on the screen. And then my name appeared as the screenwriter.
Tate whooped with pride, pulling me in for a kiss on my forehead.
A burst of excitement came over me just then. I was excited for this story. But I wasn’t sure if I was more excited about watching Tate’s reactions or the actual story.
I found out pretty quickly it was Tate.
“Wait,” he said, holding up his hand as the policeman with a hobby farm pulled the heroine running from her ex outside for a boxing lesson. “Is this about us?”
I just grinned and kept my eyes on the screen. I had already screened the movie at work a month earlier, so I knew what was coming.
And I wasn’t disappointed.
A few delightful minutes later, Tate stood up, his hands fisted in his hair.
“What did he call her?” He turned to me, horror in his eyes. “You didn’t do that to my character?”
By this point, I was laughing so hard my cheeks were aching.
“Smart aleck? No!”
“It totally works,” I barely shot out between breaths.
“Are you kidding me? Couldn’t you get them to edit that out? Or at least pick a different word? I’d rather not say anything than say that.”
I was still laughing, but since my husband was under duress, I reached out and pulled him back down to our couch, kissing him until he stopped whining like a baby. He still had more hecks and darns coming his way, and I wanted him to be fortified.
“He makes up for it,” I said sometime later, caressing his cheek. “And look at that gun he’s carrying. He’s putting it in the back of his jeans in that hot way, just like you do. I was very specific about that.”
Out of the subpar acting pool we had to pick from, I’d been happy with both of our picks for the main characters.
They had a sweet chemistry about them that seemed to work.
And Ari and Reese had been grateful to learn that the forearms had been honorably represented.
Tate and I had even taken it upon ourselves to do extensive research on the logistics of two people sharing one tractor seat.
Spoiler alert: it can definitely be done, and the actors on the small screen represented this finding quite adequately.
When the movie was over, Tate smiled down at me from my spot lying on his chest.
“With the exception of some questionable dialogue choices, that might be one of the best movies I’ve ever seen.”
“It really took us on a rollercoaster of emotions, right? The romance, the stalker, the suspense, all the delicious cheese…” I trailed off as he pulled me up to meet his lips.
“The marriage,” he murmured.
“I might write more of these movies,” I told him.
“I think you should…now that you have all the inspiration you need right here.”
He answered my grin with a kiss that left me speechless.
Plot Twist: Happily ever after does, in fact, exist.
The End.
Thank you for reading The Bodyguard’s Fall.