Page 61 of It Happened in Vegas

A smile reached my eyes, allowing myself to be warm and happy for this moment. The Calhouns, the Buchanans, theBellamys were all growing little families and I’d be a part of that. For now. Forever?

Maisy patted her stomach—which had only started to show a tiny bit.“Now you need to hurry up and get pregnant so we can experience motherhood together, too. Of course that could meanyou’repregnant in your Maid of Honor’s gown this winter at my wedding.”

“Uh…” This entire situation suddenly became a little too real for me. Not that I didn’t love babies. There’d been plenty of them around our group between Chelsea and Vivian growing their family tree with Rex and Richard. For a long time, I seriously thought I was jinxed, never going to findthe onemuch less to have children.

“Hey, wife? The show is about to begin,” Keaton called over to me, and again everyone gushed at how good of a husband he was.

Maybe one weekend in Vegas reversed the jinx? Was there hope for me now?

“I better return you to his side. But don’t you even think that we’re doing away with our Whine and Wine Nights now that we’re entering this new phase of our lives. That girl’s night tradition will never end.” Maisy ushered me back to Keaton, making a big deal out of returning me to him, teasing him. “Remember, Keaton, as her best friend I have my eyes on you. Cousin or not. Better treat her right.”

“I shouldn’t have any problems there. Besides, the guys gave me some tips about keeping the wife happy.” He grinned ear to ear with the men, holding a brew in a frosted glass. The way he fit in so naturally with the group as a married man tore my heart open. What if at the end of ninety days he wasn’t one? It wasn’t just my life and future at stake here, but his too.

I packedup my things from Richard’s guesthouse and moved in with Keaton, into his charming older Craftsman house tucked near the edge of town.

Just like him, the place was one part rugged, needing to be tamed and remodeled, while the other part played all too easy on the eyes.

With charming curb appeal, the place had wood-framed windows that allowed for morning light and a wraparound porch with a swing big enough for two, stacked with cozy pillows and a quilt. Very inviting. I could see us swinging there in the evenings and having a glass of wine—or a brew, in his case.

“Nice place, Keaton,” I commented as he helped get my luggage to the porch.

“Thanks. I’ve been fixing it up little by little over the years, balancing brewery life and renovations whenever I have time.”

“What’s that?” I pointed to the opening of his garage revealing a large piece of wooden furniture like a dresser made out of logs.

“My hobby. I make furniture on the side.”

I cocked a brow. Another cool thing to discover about him? “Some hobby. Looks really nice. You’re talented.”

“In more ways than one.” His smile smoldered. “I start from cutting down the tree and with no plan, I eventually end up with a piece of unique furniture like this. One of the shops in town displays my pieces and they usually sell faster than I can make them. Come on inside. I’ll show you several I kept for myself.”

The house was surprisingly bright, with nooks and character, cool blue accents and clean lines, and the pale wooden furniture he’d built softened the masculinity of the space. Each paint stroke and built-in shelf revealed another part of Keaton’s story to me.

It immediately felt comfortable, and I liked it all very much. A stark contrast to the city apartments I’d lived in most of my life, this type of home lived in my dreams.

“Do you cook?” He asked as he showed me around his updated kitchen featuring white cabinets and granite countertops with stainless steel appliances.

“A little? Ask me to create a beautiful charcuterie board and I can win with that.”

“Noted. I like to think I’m a master at the barbecue. Somehow we won’t starve.” He hesitated before continuing on. “I hope this won’t be awkward for us. I pushed for you to move in here only because I didn’t want anyone questioning us about our living arrangements. It’s not just our family and friends to worry about, but people around town, and nosy TV fans. Anyone could go snooping and find out if we weren’t cohabitating.”

“It makes sense. And awkward? Not in the slightest. We went on one incredible date, spent a weekend in Vegas, got married, and two days later, here we are. It feels completely natural to me.” I winked.

“Well, when you put it that way…” He casually leaned against the cabinet, laughing, blue eyes bright and twinkling at me, as if he’d won the contest for cutest guy next door, only he’s mine.

“So… sleeping arrangements?” I asked the question we hadn’t really discussed yet.

“Our master bedroom is this way.” He led me down the hall, straight to my answer.

There, the contents of the room shocked me. In the middle stood a beautiful four poster bed made from the same blond logs I’d noticed in the garage. Ruffled white linens complimented the wood. And laced across the top, from corner to corner, sheer white fabric draped to the floor.

He turned on the light switch and I gasped when twinkle lights came on, softly visible through the fabric.

“Oh, Keaton.” My hand clutched my heart at the beautiful simplicity of it all. “Did you make this?”

“Yep. I just finished the bed last week. I was planning to sell it, but now that we’re married… The linens I ordered just arrived yesterday and I added the lights today. I thought it’d be a romantic touch.”

“It is. Very romantic. Did someone put you up to this? Maisy or Vivian?”

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