His laugh was low and easy as he pushed the door open and flicked on the lights. “Open them.”
Jamie blinked, and her breath stopped. “Oh my God.”
The dusty old barn was gone. In its place stood a state-of-the-art recording studio, gleaming under the warm glow of recessed lighting. Soundproofed walls, brand-new equipment, and, most stunning of all, her guitars, hanging neatly along one side, while Clayton’s lined the other.
She turned to him, wide-eyed. “Clayton . . .”
He leaned against the doorframe, watching her reaction. “Figured we could start a little studio out here. No more driving to Nashville.”
Her throat tightened as she took it all in. He’d done this. For her. For them.
“I don’t have the words,” she whispered, running her fingertips over the smooth wood of her favorite guitar. “But thank you.”
She turned back to him, her heart full. And before she could second-guess herself, she reached up and kissed him.
He smiled against her mouth. “Worth it just for that kiss, darlin’.”
They picked up the girls and headed to Clayton’s house. Surprisingly—or maybe not, considering they’d eaten most of her birthday cake—the twins were still wide awake. They should have been asleep by now, but Clayton had let them stay up to watch the final episode ofThe Bachelor, which they’d recorded. He’d even banned Jamie from checking her socials to avoid any spoilers.
Of course, the bachelor picked the wrong woman—the one Clayton couldn’t stand from the very first episode. He said she was only there to boost her profile, and he was probably right.
Clayton turned off the TV in disgust and left the bedroom while Jamie and the girls laughed at how upset he was.
When he returned, he was hiding something behind his back.
“My darling,” he said in his corny English accent.
Jamie laughed. “I see Steve Trevor’s back.”
“Dang it, Jamie,” he said in his regular voice. “Steve Trevor is Wonder Woman’s boyfriend.”
“He is?” Jamie didn’t know that, but now it made sense.
The girls giggled. “Evenweknow that, Miss Jamie,” Emily said.
“I need a better ending,” Clayton said, revealing a red rose from behind his back. “Will you accept the final rose?”
Jamie laughed. “Yes, I will.” She took the rose. “Thank you.”
“Does that mean you’re getting married?” Emily asked.
Jamie’s eyes widened. “No, honey—”
“Well, why the hell not?” Clayton interrupted. “Marry us.”
She froze. Her breath quickened, her heart hammering against her ribs. Was he joking? It sounded like something Clayton would blurt out without thinking, but the look in his eyes told her otherwise. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t taking it back.
Jamie swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to Charlotte and Emily. Their hopeful faces nearly undid her. They were already part of her life, and she was part of theirs in ways she hadn’t even realized until this moment. She loved them. She loved him. And maybe this wasn’t the proposal she’d imagined—not some grand, orchestrated moment with a big speech and a diamond ring—but it was theirs, messy, spontaneous, full of love.
Her lips parted, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across her face. She looked back at Clayton and the words tumbled out before she could second-guess them.
“Why the hell not?”
EPILOGUE
The Grammy Awards
The Following Year
