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Jett's holding Emma with unexpected gentleness, his muscular hands delicately supporting her tiny body.
As we solemnly make our sacred vows as godparents, a powerful wave of emotion almost brings me to my knees.
The faith that Daniel and Jessica have put in us—in me—is staggering. I blink back tears, determined not to smudge my mascara.
Glancing around at my family's faces, I recall all the magnificent churches and elaborate cathedrals Jett and I have explored while touring.
Although we've gazed in wonder at age-old stained glass windows, there's something uniquely extraordinary, almost enchanting about this modest, sincere ceremony happening in the very house where our tale began.
Our journey from tension to understanding has brought us full circle. We're back where it all began.
After the ceremony, we linger in the backyard for a celebration. The crisp night air caresses my skin, sending a slight shiver down my spine as Daniel passes around bottles of his home-brewed beer.
Across the yard, Daniel catches my eye and grins, raising his beer bottle in a silent toast. The look in his eyes says it all—he's happy for us, for the life we've built together against all odds.
I return the gesture, my heart swelling with love for this crazy patchwork family of ours. These people ground me.
I tilt my head back, seeking Jett's lips. He meets me halfway, our kiss deep and achingly tender. In this moment, everything is perfect.
Jessica cuts into the cherry pie, the sweet aroma filling the air around me. The flaky crust gives way to tart cherries oozing their ruby juices. One bite and I'm back at Maggie’s diner.
Jett's arm slides around my waist. “Are you remembering our road trip?”
"How could I forget?" I tease lightly, tilting my head to meet his gaze. "It all started with a slice of pie."
Jett chuckles, the deep rumble vibrating against my back as his arms around me tighten. "Now we're godparents and building a life on the road. Who'd have thought a rock star and accountant could make it work?"
I nestle closer, tracing a lazy pattern on his forearm. "I wouldn't have believed it," I murmur. "But I'm so grateful we took that chance. On the trip and us."
I pause, letting out a contented sigh. "Even if it means enduring your crazy tour schedule and obsession with hair products."
Jett's eyes gleam mischievously as he leans close, his lips grazing my ear.
"You knew the deal," he teases playfully. "The hair products stay. How else can I keep this tousled look the fans love?"
I laugh, shaking my head. "Oh, that's your secret? Not your talent and charisma?"
"Well, that too," he concedes with a grin, pulling me closer. "But let's be real, babe. The hair is at least fifty percent of my appeal."
I roll my eyes, but I can't fight the smile. This is the Jett I love—making me laugh at odd times, never too full of himself despite his stardom.
"You're impossible," I murmur, but there's no heat behind my words.
"Impossibly charming, you mean," he counters, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner.
I snort, swatting at his chest. "More like impossibly full of yourself."
But even as I say it, I know it's not true.
"You love it," he whispers, his breath warm against my skin.
And I do. I love every part of him – the silly and the serious, the public and the private. I love the way he makes me feel like the most important person in the world.
As Jett twists a lock of my hair around his finger, giving it a gentle tug, a familiar heat blooms in my core.
"You know," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "I've always loved your hair. So soft, so silky."
I shudder, my eyes fluttering closed. It's tempting, so tempting to just give in, to let him take me right here against the wall...
