“I did not!” But I also don’t want to blurt out:We Got Drunk and Woke up Married! I can’t say that. Can I?
Instead of giving them the dirty lack of details, I smile sweetly. “No, sorry to disappoint, there was no surprise hot-air balloon ride or fireworks or an arbor of flowers. It was simple. We were surrounded by friends and skipped straight to the good part.”
Maverick clasps his hands together. “Shocking, innit, given my flair for the dramatic?”
I roll my eyes. “He’s way more dramatic than I am.”
“Yeah?” someone asks. “In what way?”
Oh shit. Did I just walk onto a land mine?
I clear my throat. “Um. Let’s me just say ... nobody cries harder at movies than this guy.” I point at him with my thumbs, giant grin on my face, and hope he doesn’t mind my teasing in a room full of media.
Maverick snaps his head toward me, wide eyed, and blurts, “That was one time!” into the microphone.
“Threetimes.” I hold up my fingers. “Especially the Pixar movie with the dog.” Whatever it’s called.
“Do not bring up the dog movie.” He winks. “That dog deserved better,am I right?”
More laughter. “When are you due?”
He leans forward. “Not for a while.”
Ah good—he’s not giving specific details. “We’re excited.”
“Do we know if it’s a girl or a boy?”
I shake my head. “Nope—not yet.”
“You planning on finding out?” one of the female reporters asks.
Beside me, Callum nods. “Damn right we are ...” Then he stands, tugging me up with him. “All right, folks. That’s all for today. We’ve got lives to live and cribs to build.”
The reporters shout more questions, but the agent cuts it off, ushering us toward the side door. My heels click against the floor, Maverick’s hand warm at the small of my back as flashes pop behind us.
The second the door closes and the noise muffles, I sag against the wall, exhaling. “Holy crap.”
“You killed it.” He grins, that boyish, heart-stopping grin.
“I rambled.”
“Nope, they’re in love with you too.”
Chapter 34
Annabelle
Four months later . . .
The thing about long-distance marriage—yes, that’s a thing and we’re doing it—is that it’s doable when one of you has to take a plane to see the other on the weekends like we’re starring in a Nicholas Sparks movie. ’Cause obviously he can afford to pay for it.
But it’s not glamorous.
There’s jet lag and delayed flights and canceled flights and turbulence. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve gotten nauseous and barfed in first class ... and not-so-fun fact: They do not take your puke bag after you’ve ralphed in it.
News flash: It’s considered hazardous waste.
So yeah. Not glamorous.
