Page 142 of Accidental Mile High Vows

He looks at me. “You’re beautiful. More beautiful than I remembered.”

“I’m exhausted and running on coffee and toddler chaos.”

“Still beautiful.”

I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. Dante has fallen asleep between us, exhausted from all the excitement. The car hums along the highway, taking us home.

EPILOGUE

SAVANNAH

Six Months Later

The engagement party is perfect.

I stand in the doorway of our penthouse, watching guests arrive in elegant dresses and tailored suits.

My hand rests on my stomach—ten weeks pregnant now. Our second child. A daughter this time, according to the ultrasound we had last week. Ledger cried when the tech told us, the same way he cried when Dante was born.

Speaking of Dante.

“Mama!” My two-and-a-half-year-old comes running across the living room, his little legs pumping fast. “Mama, look!”

He’s holding a toy car, one of the hundreds he’s collected over the past six months since Ledger came home. His father spoils him terribly, making up for two years of missed birthdays and holidays.

“That’s great, baby. Now go play with your brother before the guests get here.”

“‘Kay!” He runs off toward the kitchen, where Alexi is probably panicking about the caterers.

“He has so much energy,” Elena says, appearing beside me. She’s wearing a blue dress that makes her look stunning, though she doesn’t know yet that in about an hour, Alexi is going to get down on one knee in front of everyone. “How do you keep up with him?”

“Lots of coffee. And knowing that soon I’ll have two of them.”

“You’re going to be amazing with two. You’ve been amazing with one while building a business empire.”

“I haven’t built anything. I’ve just been maintaining what Ledger created.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. The Rome property wouldn’t be profitable without your marketing strategy. And the Chicago expansion wouldn’t have happened without your negotiations with the city council.”

“You look beautiful,” Ledger says, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. His hands rest on my small bump, protective and possessive. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit tired if I’m being honest.”

“You should sit. Rest. I can handle the greeting.”

“I’m pregnant, not fragile.”

“I know. But I’m allowed to worry about you.”

I lean back against his chest. “You’re allowed. Just don’t go overboard.”

“Too late. I’ve been overboard since the day I met you on that plane.”

I turn in his arms and kiss him. “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth.

“I love you too. Both of you.” He touches my stomach.

“Don’t forget Dante.”