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He holds out his hand, but instead of reciprocating, I giggle and nod like a bobble-headed fool. “I’m so sorry…is this real?” I whisper to Jay.
Chris laughs, and I finally take his outstretched hand. “This man loves you a lot.”
Jay gets him settled on a bar stool he pulled from behind some greenery, and then he stalks toward me, takes my hand, and pulls me against his chest as Chris Martin sings “A Sky Full of Stars.”
As I lean into Jay’s embrace, our hearts beat as one, and I feel contentment like I’ve never known.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I whisper as the song ends.
“I’d do anything for you.” The adoration in his tone and in the way he looks at me makes my stomach flip.
“You ready?” Chris asks, propping his guitar against the wall near the stairway.
“For what?” I scrunch my nose, watching the Grammy winner make his way to the pergola instead of bolting like I expected he’d do after he completed a favor for a random billionaire like Jay.
“To get married, Kitten.” Jay loops his arms around my waist from behind and nuzzles my neck. “I don’t want to wait another day to make you my wife. Marry me tonight. Move into this house with me. Let’s give Chloe everything we never had. A family full of love. That laughs together, dances together,singstogether.”
My heart rate ramps up again as I spin to stare at him. “You’re serious? You bought this house for us? You hired Chris Martin to marry us?”
He chuckles. “I hired him to sing you a song to convince you to marry me. In case you said no.”
This man is ridiculous. And the most romantic person I’ve ever met. With a small smile, I place a hand on his cheek and just soak in his warmth. He leans into my touch, inhaling and closing his eyes as if he’s memorizing this moment, as if he really doesn’t believe it will last.
The truth is, I plan on touching him like this for the rest of our lives.
“And besides,” he says, his eyes fluttering open and that smirk dancing across his face, “I’m Jay Hanson. Of course I hired Chris Martin to sing to you. And to officiate our wedding. What kind of billionaire would I be if I didn’t?”
Laughter skitters into the night air, and pure joy vibrates around us.
“And this house?” I squeak. “It’s really ours?”
He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “If you like it.”
I throw my arms around him, pulling him close. “I love it,” I whisper. “Yes…yes I’ll marry you.”
And then, as the sun sets over the park, with our daughter by Jay’s side as his best person, and Sophie and Cynthia by mine, my soulmate and I say our vows. And Chris Martin, the goddamn lead singer of Coldplay, pronounces us husband and wife.
And when we hold tight to each other under the stars on the rooftop of our new home, sharing our first dance as husband and wife, he sings “Yellow.”
59
A SKY FULL OF STARS BY COLDPLAY
Cat
We walk our guests out through the front door and say goodbye. Sophie shoots me a saucy wink as she leaves, and Cynthia takes Chloe with her for the night.
When we’re finally alone on the sidewalk in front of our new home, Jay turns to me with blue flames dancing in his eyes. “C’mere, wife.”
Wife.Holy shit. Is there a hotter word in the English language?
When I stare up at him, still stunned stupid, he slides his hands beneath my knees and my back and cradles me against his chest. With a kiss to the temple, he strides for the door, then carries me over the threshold of our home.
“Say it again,” I whisper.
Jay licks his lips as he meets my gaze. “Wife.”
The word is uttered with such reverence. Such appreciation. So much love and unwavering devotion.
