Page 106 of What I'm Looking For

The two-year-old nods seriously before turning her head into her mom’s shoulder with a sudden bout of shyness. Pam manages to tickle a giggle out of her without disturbing the baby.

Yeah, these ladies know what they’re doing.

Blowing the baby a kiss, I take Will’s hand. “Okay. Let’s go.”

My husband, very handsome in his tux, tucks my hand into his elbow to escort me to the passenger-side door of our new Subaru wagon, where he gestures grandly for me to get in.

“Dammit. I forgot the tickets.” I knock a fist against my skull, carefully avoiding the styled hair and made-up face I paid a stupid amount of money for someone else to do. “Mommy brain.”

He holds my elbow as I maneuver into the car, awkward in the long gown and high heels. “No problemo. We can run back by the house.”

As he trots around to the driver’s side, I enjoy the view. That sexy body is all mine. And he isn’t just eye candy. He’s accomplished so much since we met five years ago. Not only is he working all the time as a fight choreographer—even on the occasional film set—he’s played Hamlet, Richard III, Henry V and Orsino since we’ve been married. Plus, he takes care of Immie the three days a week I have to be at the office. We even manage to fit a regular roll in the hay into our busy lives.

Moments later, we pull up in front of the place we purchased last year, just blocks away from Deb and Pam. Our upstairs tenants relax on the front porch, and Will says something to make them laugh as he runs by.

He’s back in a flash, holding the tickets so I can see them before slipping them into an inside pocket of his tux.

“I’m very proud of you,” he says as he starts the car.

I bat that down. “This award is not that big a deal.”

He leans over to kiss me sweetly on the lips. “‘How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deal in a naughty world.’”

I lift my eyebrows and wait for the translation.

“It’s a very big deal. You deserve recognition for your efforts at Women to Women. But I’m not only proud of you for that,” he says softly. “I’m proud of you for balancing it all—work, baby, us.” He starts the car. “How’d a guy like me end up with a strong, successful, compassionate and sexy woman like you?”

Before he can put the car in gear, I lean over to kiss him. He returns it with passion, making me wish this dress had easier access.

When we finally come up for air, I hold his face in my hands to whisper, “I’m glad I finally figured out what I was looking for.”

His smile is dazzling.

“Me too.”

* * *

Ready to hear Ben’s story? A tale that includes an adorable stray dog and a second chance with the girl he left behind?

It’s all inForget About Me

Keep reading for a bonus epilogue or…

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Bonus Epilogue

July, 1988

BEN

If only my agent could see me now.

Scratch that. If he did, his head might explode. Wouldn’t want to be responsible for that.

You see, Deb—costume designer extraordinaire—thought it’d totally be an excellent adventure to not only have me whip off my shirt for theRomeo and Julietlove scene, but for my shirt to be rippedopenfor my death scene.

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