Husband and wife.
Poppy and I meet, and some part of me is aware that all the cameras are on us as I wrap my arms around her waist, Cordelia getting gently squished between us. Though as soon as she feels me, she closes her eyes, and even over the rumble of the massive crowd, I can hear her purring loudly.
“Hi, wife,” I say, as Poppy’s smile somehow widens further, her dark eyes glittering in the sun.
“Hi.”
“I take it you saw my interview.” The need to know what Poppy thought of it eats at me. Though her presence here gives me a fairly good idea.
“What interview?” Poppy says, cocking her head, but her teasing smile remains. I could answer with a quippy remark, something equally playful. But ever since I decided I love Poppy, the words have been demanding to be said.
“It was true, you know. Everything I said. I meant every single word,” I tell her. Every moment that stretches between us without being able to kiss her is excruciating.
“Here I thought you’d never show the public that side of you.”
“I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf.” My gaze is fixed on her mouth, unable to think of anything except showing her how much I love her.
“Does that include telling all your swooning fans that you’re off the market?” She asks, and it snaps me back to the moment, and drawing my attention to what Poppy hasn’t said. She wants confirmation that I’ve done what I initially set out to do, proof that I’m a changed man.
“They already know,” I answer. “I’ve been a one-woman man since the day we said our vows.”
Poppy stretches up on her tiptoes, and plants a kiss on my mouth, a quick one before she pulls away. Her eyes flick over to the big screen, where we’re projected in front of the entire crowd. A brief thought of what people might think of this crosses my mind. Will they think this is still part of a ruse? Still part of the publicity stunt?
It takes only a second for me to remember that I don’t care, and I turn back to my wife and kiss her like every other time we’ve kissed before.
My lips capture hers and she melts into me, her mouth soft, and warm, and all I’ve ever wanted.
CHAPTER 49
POPPY
My heart is burstingwith pride.
For Jett and his win, but also for me. For us. For everything we’ve overcome to be standing here today. I could have taken the safe option, stayed home and watched him win the Big Air World Cup from the comfort of the café and my apartment. I might have waited for Jett to come back into town to confess my feelings for him, but somehow that didn’t seem like enough.
The lengths Jett has gone to show up for me even while working toward the most important, and most difficult milestone in his skiing career, I had to be here for him, too. To celebrate his accomplishments the way he celebrates mine.
Somehow, our marriage has turned an arrogant playboy, into a kindhearted, selfless partner.
Deep down, I think Jett always was, he just needed to remember who he was beneath the mask he wore for the public. The man he is deep down inside, the version of himself he tried so hard to protect from getting hurt.
I thought marrying Jett was a crazy idea, how could Ihave ever predicted that we’d be here? How could I have ever guessed I’d be so madly in love with my husband?
We don’t have much time to celebrate together, before we’re being whisked away, off the ski hill toward the press tent. Jett’s arm remains snug around my shoulders, keeping me and Cordelia nestled in beside him.
He only lets us go when we get into the tent, and he takes his seat in front of the two dozen reporters, all eager to ask him about his win today. But not without giving my hand a gentle squeeze and planting a kiss on my cheek first. Cheeks that are now hurting from smiling so big, so proud.
Luckily Dan is sitting up there with him, controlling the frenzied sports reporters, and fielding questions. He points to the tall, blonde woman I’ve seen at some of Jett’s other events.
“Congratulations on being the Big Air World Cup Champion, Jett,” she starts.
Jett gives her a grateful nod.
“Tell us what was going through your head when you landed the winning jump?” She asks, and a murmur ripples through the room in anticipation of Jett’s answer. I’m sure by now they all expect a cocky answer from him, something likeof course I was going to win.
But Jett’s expression says something different today, something I can’t quite place. It’s the way his mouth is working, rather than sliding into his usual lopsided grin. The way his eyes flicked down to his hands, folded on the table. It was a split second, but I caught it.
“Sarah,” Jett answers, looking the reporter in the eyes before he answers her question. The room is already stunned into silence at Jett addressing her by her name. “I’m going tobe honest with you. The only thing going through my mind was how fucking grateful I am to be here. And for every single person who worked their asses off to get me here. My coach—” Jett reaches over and pats Dan between the shoulder blades, and if my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, I’d swear the man has tears in his eyes— “my athletic therapist, my publicist, but most of all, my girls.”
