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Then with the applause surrounding them, he carried her up the stairs and away from the blinding lights and camera lenses. Stopping only when they were out of sight and standing on the other side of the arena door.
Her back pressed up against the wall, Cruz looked down with love and tenderness in those eyes. “I meant it you know. I do love you, and I promise I’ll show you how much every day, every morning, and every night you grace me with your presence in my life.”
“I insist on nothing less. And if you haven’t figured it out, I love you too. Love you for accepting me as I am, pushing me to be true to myself, and showing me what happiness could be.”
He kissed her again, long and hard, and she was having a difficult time remembering where they were. Until the bright light from over his shoulder caught her attention. “Cruz?” She pulled away, and stared into the camera lens and the grinning faces of those around them.
He turned and saw them. His hand grabbed hers and he bent down to her ear. “Guess we better make this good.”
Then he was kissing her again, and she didn’t care about anything but the fact that he loved her.
And she was finally going to get her own happy ending.
Epilogue
The hot Mexican sun was relentless above their heads but neither of them cared as they wielded their shovels and hacked away at the stump in front of them. Payton envisioned little bursts of freckles popping up on her skin, something that her mother would certainly abhor.
And that Payton relished.
This time Cruz was successful as he whacked away at the large agave plant he’d dug up from the ground. And the crowd burst into applause.
“Your husband is certainly quite the charmer,” the older woman who was part of the tour said next to her.
She thought about the past couple of months, beginning with Cruz pulling her away from her first exhilarating hockey game and whisking her away for some much needed talking, interspersed with lots of lovemaking. His family had, of course, eagerly accepted her into their happy herd, all of them insisting, rightfully, on taking some responsibility for events that led up to their wedding.
But the real reason for this change of events was both she and Cruz letting go of everything that had held them back—whether they saw it at the time or not—and embracing whatever thrills this road together could take.
And just four days ago, the Sorensens and even her own dignified parents had stood as witnesses in a small, private but unique and beautiful civil ceremony where Payton walked herself down the aisle with Abba’s “I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do” playing overhead. They’d all been just as delighted to see them off in the car that Cruz had rented just for the occasion. One nearly identical to the first one they’d set out in just a few months before.
Cruz looked up and winked at her, sending chills through her.
Cruz? A charmer? “He certainly is.”
Many hours later, the stink of the dirt and sweat from their tour washed away, and their bodies sated and tangled together in the tangle of the covers, Payton thought about how lucky she was.
“Hey. Don’t even think of conking out on me now,” Cruz whispered in her ear. “I’m only just getting started.”
She sat up, pressing a kiss against his mouth, basking in her happiness. She reached over to the nightstand. “I was only g
iving you a chance to catch your breath. But in case you needed any musical inspiration…” She picked up his phone, scrolling through it, an idea for a song already forming.
But Cruz placed his hand on hers. “I have something already in mind.”
He took the phone from her and scrolled around another minute, obviously not as familiar with the music app. She bit her lip to stop from smiling. “I’ll have you know,” he continued, “I’ve not only created my own playlist, but I’ve added that Fandango app you’re so fond of, along with Facebook and the Twitter. You’re going to have to help me figure out that whole tweeting thing, though.” He shook his head.
She thought about correcting him, telling him that it’s just pronounced “Twitter,” but she laughed instead. “Okay. Lay it on me. What musical selection does Cruz Sorensen prefer listening to in his free time? Madonna? A little Enya? Maybe Barry Manilow?”
He just smiled smugly and set the phone onto the small stereo on the nightstand before turning back to her.
It was a breezy reggae song that started and it took her a few seconds to recognize the unmistakable sound of Bob Marley singing “Is this Love.”
She listened to the lyrics for a moment, understanding that Cruz was confirming for her that he was going to love her. Every day.
More tears filled her eyes. But then she laughed at the devilish grin on Cruz’s face as he leaned across the bed toward her and nipped her sensitive ear lobe, sending chills down her spine.
“Heaven help me, woman. I do love you,” he whispered.
“And I love you. All the days of my life.”
