“I don’t know. It was fun to write, but my muse has settled down and taken things in a whole new direction.” I cock my head at him, peering sideways at the profile of my handsome husband.
Sometimes I still cannot believe I’m Mrs. St. James. Since the day he surprised me, dropping to one knee, and proposed to me while we were at the famous Griffin Observatory during the golden hour. I pinch myself often to make sure I’m not dreaming.
One of my favorite photos of us is from that night, so happy together when I said yes to his proposal. The view of Los Angeles had turned a warm, golden hue during the sunset, illuminating the background behind us in shades of peach, orange, and gold.
Our wedding was beautiful, too, held up at Duke and Phoebe’s ranch in Montana in their dedicated wedding barn, where Phoebe takes pride in hosting events for all the hockey guys, most of them weddings. Although to hear Big D tease about it now, Saint had called him, apparently sweating bullets and worried about taking vows with me. It’s a funny story that gets bigger and bigger every single time he tells it when our gang is altogether.
But I wasn’t worried. I believed with my whole heart and soul, Saint would make it down the aisle with me. Of course, Misty made my bridal gown, her first ever, but not her last, launching a new enterprise alongside her costume business.
My only requirement was Misty fashion a gown for me that would make Saint see me, fall in love with me all over again, and bring him to his knees, crying as I walked in through all our friends and family to meet him at the altar. She succeeded, and that is one of my favorite photos from our wedding day, him on his knees crying like a baby.
Our fingers lace together over our child growing inside of me as we quietly watch the sun disappear over the horizon for the last time. I glance at the notebook with the unfinished novelette.
“I don’t know what I’ll write next. But I do know this. I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more right here. I love you,” I whisper.
“I’m a lucky man. I love you, and my angel baby, too.” Saint assures me, as he often does, and kisses my belly, because I finally found my forever-man.
