EPILOGUE
“I hate wearing these things,” Gannon scowled at his reflection in the hotel mirror as if he was in pain. His fingers were trying to loosen the tie he’d just tightened.
“But you look so good in them.” Paige stroked her hands over the broad shoulders under his black suit jacket.
He snagged her wrist and pulled her around to face the mirror in front of him. “Speaking of looking good.” He nibbled at her neck.
“Do not leave a mark,” she ordered. “We’re not going to a wedding with me sporting a hickey.”
“What if it’s in a place that no one else will see?” Gannon asked, his fingers edging the wide strap of her blush pink dress off her shoulder.
“Why are we going to a wedding again when we could be spending the afternoon in bed?” he asked tasting her skin and drawing a crop of goose bumps to the surface.
Paige dropped her head back against his shoulder and smiled. “Not everyone wants to elope like we did, Mr. King.”
“Mmm. Mrs. King. I still like the sound of that,” he murmured, slipping one hand into the deep V at the front of her dress.
“You should be getting used to it by now,” Paige teased, spinning in his arms to wrap hers around his neck. “It’s been ten months. I think we can spare a few hours outside the bedroom.”
“You’re not going to make me feel guilty about wanting to spend as much time with you as I can before you have to take off on your screening tour.”
Her documentary, shot over an intense three-month period, was finally wrapping up in post-production and due to debut in a month’s time. Her baby was being brought to life, and it was better than she’d ever dreamed. And her directorial debut season of Kings of Construction had the highest ratings so far that the show had ever seen.
“It was my understanding that you’d be accompanying me on my tour,” Paige said, biting at his bottom lip.
“Of course I’m going. But it’s going to be like shooting Kings all over again. I’ll never have you all to myself.”
She laughed and pulled him closer. “We made do then. We’ll make do again.” She felt his fingers at the zipper of her dress.
“Don’t even think about it,” Paige warned. “We’re already late.”
“Where are you going?” he demanded when she made a dash for the door.
“Upstairs to my office. I just wanted to check my email again before we go.” Gannon had outfitted one of the bedrooms on the fourth floor into a state-of-the-art office for her and Becca. They’d nicknamed it heaven and had spent hours and hours up there filming interviews and reviewing footage.
“Don’t even think about it,” Gannon teased. “We’re already late.”
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They arrived just before the glossy white doors to the Portland Unitarian Church closed and scooted into a pew next to her sister. “It’s about time,” the ever-punctual Dr. Lisa St. James said pointedly.
“Good to see you, too, Lis,” Gannon said, pressing a peck to his sister-in-law’s cheek before slinging his arm around Paige’s shoulders.
“He looks happy,” Paige said, nodding at the groom who beamed like a beacon at the front of the sanctuary.
“He’s got a lot to be happy about,” Lisa nodded.
Paige dug into her clutch for her tissue stash and offered one to her sister. Lisa shook her head.
“Softy,” Gannon whispered in Paige’s ear, his thumb caressing the bare flesh of her shoulder.
“Weddings always get me. And if memory serves, you got a little misty-eyed at ours,” she pointed out.
“Allergies,” he claimed.
The music rose and the doors to the back of the church opened. Malia, in a flouncy pink dress and a tiara that sat on her fuzzy new growth of hair, strutted down the aisle. Her pink high tops visible under the miles of tulle in her skirt. She skipped and then ran, jumping into the arms of the man at the end of the aisle.
Gannon cleared his throat, and Paige elbowed him in the gut. “Yeah, try not to tear up, tough guy.”
“Crap.” Lisa snatched one of the tissues from Paige and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
“Just think, Lis. This wedding wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for you,” Gannon whispered.
“All I did was match a patient to a trial.” But there was a slight curve to her lips.
The church doors opened again, and this time they all rose as Carina, resplendent in yards of ivory, floated down the aisle. The designer gown was fitted to her lean frame as if it had been sewed onto her body. Miles of veil trailed behind her. She was a breathtaking bride with eyes only for her daughter and soon-to-be husband, the man who had saved Malia’s life.
She was so happy. There wasn’t a person in the building that couldn’t sense the radiating joy.
Paige didn’t even bother trying to stem the happy tears.
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“Gannon! Paige!” Malia barreled across the dance floor and jumped into Gannon’s waiting arms.
“Hey there, pipsqueak.” He spun her around, lifting her toward the tulle and light draped beams above their heads and she squealed.
“I’m so glad you guys are here. Did you see my shoes? Aren’t they awesome?”
“They are awesome,” Paige said, returning Malia’s one-armed hug. “How’s school going?”
“Good! I’m playing baseball! I’m really good,” she announced.
“I bet you are,” Gannon said, setting her back down. “So what do you think of your new stepdad?”
Malia looked over her shoulder where her parents were posing in front of the bar. “He’s kind of the best. And he’s super smart. He says I can be a doctor like him if I want to but that I shouldn’t make up my mind too early.”
Paige laughed. “He sounds like the best.”
Carina and Dr. Singh waved in their direction. “I’d better go,” Malia said. I want to make sure I get a good piece of cake.” She dashed off, her pink sneakers squeaking cheerfully on the wood floor.
Gannon took Paige in his arms again, moving to the music. “God, I love that kid.”
“You’d be a horrible human being if you didn’t,” Paige pointed out.
“Maybe we should have some,” he said, his face serious, but eyes dancing.
“Kids?” Paige clarified.
“Yeah,” he said, guiding her in a slow spin. “Maybe three?”
Paige grinned, her heart swelling in her chest. “Three kids. That’s a lot.”
“Well, we’ve got all those bedrooms at home,” he teased.
He leaned her back for a dip.
“It’s a good thing because I found out this morning that we’re going to need one of those bedrooms.”
She saw it, the question followed immediately by the spark of joy. He pulled her upright faster than necessary, and she fell against him laughing.
“You’re not fucking with me?”
Paige shook her head, more happy tears clouding her eyes. “Nope. You’re going to be a daddy.”
He hugged her to his chest and then cupped her face in his hands. The music and lights and laughter faded into the background.
“God, I hope it’s a girl,” he said, sealing his wish with a kiss.