Page 102 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

And the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.

guide to love rule #32

You’ll never be prepared to realize that you’re in love with your husband.

29

maeve

“Doyou think you’d be able to design something like that?”

I have to blink a few times, because I’m not sure this is real life. Because how is it that Hunter McAvoy, the head coach of the Nashville Fury—a football team I’ve watched my entire life because of my father and brother—is wanting to hire me to decorate and help design a new surprise office and wing of the house he’s building for his wife.

“Think? I know I can. And I’d be honored to do so.”

We shake hands quickly since his wife Sadie is walking back toward us, putting her phone back in her purse.

“I hope he didn’t bore you,” she says. “If he was talking too much football, blink twice and I’ll pull him away.”

Oh, I like her. “I grew up in a football household. Graduate of UT and family are season ticket holders.”

Sadie’s smile immediately grows as I hear Hunter let out a groan. “I knew I liked you.”

We talk for a few more minutes, since apparently I’m in company with a fellow Tennessee grad, before I feel a hand on the small of my back.

“There you are,” Logan says. “Just wanted to check on you.”

I smile up at the man who has done a wonderful job tonight of introducing me to those he wants to, while also letting me forge out on my own. “Everything’s great.”

“Good,” he says, formally introducing himself to Hunter and Sadie. The two excuse themselves, but not before Hunter gives me a look that says he’ll be calling me.

“Another commission?”

I couldn’t keep the smile off my face if I tried. “Hunter was asking me if I’d be interested in decorating a surprise office he’s building for his wife.”

“That’s amazing,” Logan responds, bringing me in for a kiss that I feel through my body. “I think by the end of tonight you’re going to be booked for the next two years.”

I might be. And none of them, not one, was a man cave for a post-divorce bachelor pad.

I think I might cry.

“Thank you,” I say, pulling him in by his lapels for a kiss. “This is all happening because of you. I don’t know if I could ever say thank you enough.”

“No thanks needed, Love. You did this yourself. Your talent did this. I might have put a spotlight on you, but your brilliance has always shined on its own.”

Logan has called me beautiful. He’s called me smart. He’s called me sexy. When he calls me his wife I’m embarrassed how my body shivers. But when he compliments my work? Calls my talent brilliant? That’s my definition of talking dirty…

And while I’m overwhelmed by the response I’ve gotten tonight, I’ve also never been prouder of how a project turned out. Just this grand room alone is something that I’ll be putting in my portfolio for years to come. We gave it a rustic feel that will look good in June, but in December with trees and holiday decorations spread throughout? It looks like a cabin at a ski lodge in Colorado. The whites and creams against the browns ofthe wood are the perfect backdrop to the Christmas lights and trees I’ve put around. It’s a huge room, but somehow we were able to give it a cozy, intimate feel.

Most important? I enjoyed designing it. I found my love for creating spaces again, and I owe it all to Logan for letting me go forward with my vision.

In what feels like a blink of an eye, Logan Matthews has gone from one-night-stand, to client, to the man who helped me find my love again for my job, to husband. He helped me in a time he didn’t have to. He’s brought Jayce and me into his home, and we’ve created this unpredictable little family. And maybe the biggest thing of all, he’s made me feel again.

It’s a Christmas miracle.

“Thank you,” I say, taking his hand in mine. “For so much.”

His smile hits me just as hard as his words just did. “As much as I’d like to suggest we sneak away so you can thank me properly, I have to make a speech.”

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