Page 39 of And Everything In Between (Love By Any Means #3)

She frowned for a second. He’d been texting her on and off all day.

Always with an update or a soft, I’m thinking about you text.

But now it was silent. She was worried about him.

He loved the mission, but he didn't like the performance part of it. Her man’s social battery got depleted quickly. She needed him to check in.

Paige: You know, I worry about you. If it gets to be too much, go sit quietly and recharge. I love you.

She didn’t get a response, so she set her phone down. He knew how to find her if he needed her. She decided to let the man have his moment. But deep down, she knew Giovanni Dowlen didn’t do silence without reason.

#

Giovanni, Emon, Brooks, and Rolani sat in the faux shop set up for the night. It felt good having his people with him, his brothers. Rolani was a given, but Emon and Brooks had both taken time off from building empires to show up for his moment. That meant something.

And of course, the women weren’t missing this.

While the fellas kicked it, their wives and girlfriends were posted at the hotel, living it up, brunch, mimosas, loud-ass laughter, shopping, and taking up space like only Black women could.

That was why they worked their hands raw.

So, their women could move through the world without hesitation or apology.

“This shit is surreal,” Rolani said, leaning back in the leather chair, the replica shop shining around them.

Rolani had been his friend way before all of this.

In fact, it was Giovanni’s dad who got him into cars also.

When he came to spend the night, if Giovanni had to be in the shop, so did he.

It was the only way his dad agreed. Rolani was better for it.

He found his passion for painting and detail work.

Now he was Giovanni’s right hand at the shop and the best in the business at what he did.

“Yeah, a nigga can’t believe this shit here. I appreciate y’all for making it out,” Giovanni said.

These were the men who’d known him when he was nothing but reckless ambition. The ones who’d seen him humbled, healing, rebuilding after betrayal. They weren’t here for photo ops. They were there for him. Proud of his accomplishments.

“Bruh, we’re family. In more ways than one. I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else. How you feeling?” Emon asked.

Giovanni exhaled, heavy. “Like a fish out of water. I’m hype… I don’t know how to show it. I feel like this is a big moment, but… something else is eating at me.”

“Is it ‘bout the show?” Emon asked, tipping back his beer. “Or about Paige?”

Giovanni smirked, rubbing his thumb along the bridge of his nose. “Both. Always. She’s a thought in everything I do.”

Brooks laughed. “She got you wide open.”

“Nah, she got me locked in. Crazy part? We’ve only been together a few months. But time seems not to even matter much with her.”

He listened with intent as they spoke. These were men who’d loved out loud. Who had taken risks on women they couldn’t unsee once they saw them.

Giovanni blew out a slow breath.

It still surprised him sometimes— how much he’d changed. How fast it had happened. How fast he’d fallen in love with Paige. And Giovanni, normally a man with good common sense, felt reckless and bold.

Time had never stopped him. When had he ever played it safe? Every win that mattered came from moving off instinct, not permission. The shop. The TV deal. Hell, even stopping traffic for a stranger that night. That wasn’t a strategy. That was faith. A faith that felt like God's highest favor.

“So?” Brooks shrugged, catching his eye. “When you know, you know.”

“And you know,” Emon added without looking up, like it was fact.

Giovanni let the words settle before nodding. These two had already done what he was now stepping into. He’d watched Emon love Blake like his whole soul was tied to hers. He’d seen Brooks shift his entire world to wrap Taylor in peace.

And he’d do both.

His phone buzzed; it was a text from Paige. He smiled.

Paige: You know, I worry about you. If it gets to be too much, go sit quietly and recharge. I love you.

He read her message but didn't respond right away.

With intense eyes he stared down at his hands, scarred, calloused, capable.

Built to carry, to create, to protect. Hands that would rub her back when she needed, hold her hand when she needed, wipe her tears when she needed, hold their children.

Flashes of the future had been plaguing him all day.

That ache in his chest showed up again, familiar.

It'd been lingering ever since she got to town.

Her simple message, the way she worried about him, supported him without being asked, crystallized everything. This wasn’t just love. This was partnership. This was home.

“I’m not tryna show up to this premiere treating it like some solo achievement,” Giovanni said finally, certain. “Not when the woman who centered me enough to make this possible is waiting back at that hotel.”

Emon leaned in, knowing. “You saying what I think you saying?”

“I think so.”

Even Brooks sat up straighter. “Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

He didn't need another sign. He'd already seen enough. That woman had changed his damn life. There would be no halfway with Paige Bishop. There had never been a stutter step or a misfire. From the night she slid into his car to every moment she’d poured into him after. He didn’t need more time to figure out if she was his to have and hold forever; he needed her .

“Let us know how we can support. Proud of you.”

They’d been all in from the jump, even when they tried to play it cool. He wasn’t a man who believed in signs from the universe, but he believed in what his hands could build and what his heart could feel. And both were telling him the same thing: Paige Bishop was meant to be his wife.

Giovanni stood up, already moving. “Y’all feel like being late to the premiere?”

The men slapped their hands on Giovanni’s back, congratulating him, fully aware that the theme of the night was going to shift tremendously.

He pulled out his phone and made a single call.

“I need a favor, a big one sis.”

#

Paige checked her makeup one last time in her compact mirror, smoothing a finger over her perfectly lined lips.

The midnight blue dress hugged her curves, strapless with a high slit that showed enough leg to keep Giovanni's attention where it belonged, on her, not the cameras that would be everywhere tonight.

“You good?” she asked, glancing at him. “We can still turn around if you're not feeling it.”

Giovanni's face was focused, tight, that quiet intensity he got when his mind was working through something. He looked damn good in that tailored black suit, no tie, gold and diamond chains resting against his chest. His eyes flicked to her briefly, a small smile breaking through the seriousness.

“I'm good. We need to make a quick stop before we hit the premiere.”

“A stop? Baby, we're already cutting it close. You hate being late, and I do too now.”

“Paige, this our shit. Trust me, one last time.”

Those words. So simple, but heavy between them.

‘Trust me’ had been the unspoken thread of their relationship from the beginning, from the moment he asked her to get in his car at the fairgrounds, to when he sat with her father during dialysis, to every time he showed up exactly when she needed him without having to ask.

“Always,” she replied, because it was true.

The car turned off the main road, heading away from the glittering strip of Hollywood where the premiere was being held. Paige raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. Giovanni’s hand rested on her thigh, squeezing gently before leaning in for a kiss.

“You do this every time. You’re gonna mess up my lip combo.”

“That glossy thing you do with your lips drives me crazy, baby. I'm sorry.”

After fifteen minutes, they pulled up to what looked like a private airfield. Security waved them through without checking ID. In the distance, the sleek outline of a helicopter stood silhouetted against the setting sun, its blades motionless but ready.

“Giovanni,’ she said slowly, “what's happening right now?”

The driver put the car in park but didn't kill the engine right away. He turned to look at her.

“Do you trust me?”

“I already said I did,” she replied, trying to read his expression. “But you're acting weird as hell right now.”

That pulled a smile from him, a wide one.

“I know, and I’m sorry. We're not going to the premiere. Not yet anyway.”

“Then, where are we going that requires a helicopter?”

He took her hand in his. His palm was warm, steady.

“Vegas.”

“Vegas?” she repeated, blinking. “Tonight? Giovanni, your show-”

“Will still premiere whether I’m there or not. And we’ll watch it.”

Paige stared at him, trying to make sense of what was happening. “But why...”

“Because”—he cut her off gently— “I’ve got something more important to do tonight than stand around taking pictures with strangers. I want a sure thing by my side.”

The intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

“What's more important than your career-defining moment?” she asked, her voice dropping to match his tone.

“You. Us.”

Realization didn’t just creep in—it crashed, loud and sure. Her heart pounded, wild and frantic. Marriage. Tonight.

The magnitude of what he was suggesting crashed over her in waves.

A year ago, she would have called this crazy. Six months ago, she would have needed time to think, to plan, to control every variable. But sitting here with Giovanni, watching him risk everything for them, she realized something had fundamentally shifted inside her.

She wasn't afraid anymore. Not of loving him completely, not of being loved completely in return. Every careful wall she’d built had already crumbled anyway - brick by brick, kiss by kiss, gentle gesture by gentle gesture.

“Vanni...” tears rushed to the brim of her eyes, but not from fear. From recognition. This was right. He was right. They were right.