Page 42 of My Puckin' Luck
“The fact you showed up here for me, makes me believe you want to still fight for us. So, you didn’t lose me. I just hope we’ll get past this.”
“We will. I know it.” A mischievous smile spreads over his face. “So… if this were a movie scene you wrote, you know, the one where the guy grovels and gets the girl back? How’d I do?”
I have a chuckle at that. “You got lucky. I couldn’t have written it any better.”
“In that case, you know what we do now?”
“What?”
“Isn’t this usually the part of the movie where the characters kiss and live happily ever after?” He wiggles his brows.
Warmth spreads through my body as I go in for that kiss. “Yes, it is.”
Happily ever after… suddenly looks very promising.
EPILOGUE 1
ANASTASIA - A FEW YEARS LATER
After a long weekof packing our things, we head up to the rooftop sanctuary to relax together, drink, and watch the sunset on our last night in this house in the Hollywood Hills.
Saint helps me get settled with him under a blanket, having replaced the Adirondack chairs last year with a more comfortable lounger for two. We clink our goblets in a wordless toast, his filled with wine, mine filled with milk.
“We did it, angel. Everything packed and ready. After the movers come in the morning, we take a private flight up to Montana to start our new life together.” Saint’s voice has an air of a man on a mission. New husband, a baby on the way, and a new job in a new state are a lot to undertake in such a short time, but he’s dealing with all in stride well.
He reaches over and pulls me onto his lap. Not an easy feat, what with me six months pregnant, but we make do. I wouldn’t ruin this moment to have him hold me, with his hand on my stomach and talking to the baby.
He always tells the baby funny stories about our life, and about his dad, even mentions Esme and Mimi sometimes—as his mother reluctantly finally agreed to be called instead of Grandma.
The most exciting story of late being the new professional league expansion team opening up—The Montana Frostbites. They hired Duke to be the new coach, and hired Saint as one of the assistants. To say the new position has given Saint a refreshed outlook on life would be an understatement.
When he got the new position, I gladly accepted that we’d be moving. I’d had enough of the Hollywood rat race and constant anxiety over the studio’s pressures for more and more scripts. Saint and I agreed I’d take time off to raise our son. He’s going to make the best dad ever.
I think, with time away from all the pressure, my creative juices may flow again. Who knows what I’ll write given the room to develop something new?
Tonight though, Saint isn’t launching into stories for the baby inside of me to hear. I glance at him as he stares out at the sunset. “What are you thinking?”
“How I built this rooftop sanctuary as a safe place for me to suffer in silence, wrangling with my past. Once you came along, angel, you disrupted all of that. From that day on, I couldn’t imagine being here alone again.”
“I’m going to miss this place.” My head lands on his chest.
“Lucky for us then, I talked our contractor into building something similar in our new home.”
I lift my face to him again, excited for the news. “Now, that’s a great story to tell tonight. You hear that little baby? Your daddy is one smart man.”
“Actually…” He pulls out a notebook from behind his back. “I have a different story in mind. A little something I found tucked away in the guest room while we were packing. You must have forgotten all about it. Look familiar?”
I squint at the notebook and cannot believe what I’m seeing. “No, don’t read that. Throw it away, please.”
“Oh, no, no, no. This one sounds like a best seller. ‘Anastasia’s Inspired Naughty Novelette. Starring the Devil and the Angel.’ Hm. Why do I think I gave you the inspiration for this story? Shall we have a read?”
I laugh. “Something tells me I won’t be able to stop you, although I hardly think it’s appropriate for our child’s ears.”
Saint chuckles as he sets my story aside. “A far cry from the sweet stuff your studio always expected you to write?”
“Yes, but at the time I needed to follow my muse and write something different.”
“Will you finish it someday?”
