Page 43 of And Everything In Between (Love By Any Means #3)

Paige leaned against the hotel balcony railing, steaming coffee mug cradled in her palms, as she watched the city wake up twenty floors beneath them.

The traffic looked like toy cars, the palm trees like miniatures in an architect's model.

The premiere had been a whirlwind, cameras flashing, industry executives shaking Giovanni's hand, congratulations flowing like the champagne they'd sipped until the early hours.

She couldn't believe her life. She was married. Someone's wife. Giovanni's wife. The thought sent a thrill through her that made her giggle softly until her phone rang beside her.

“Hey Momma, everything okay?”

“Baby, everything is fine. I'm calling to check on you. How you are feeling?”

“A little like I don't know how I got here,” Paige admitted, settling into the patio chair. “This is crazy.”

“No, this is what's on the other side of consistency and trust. Commitment.” She could hear the wisdom and pride in her mother’s voice. “Paige, you deserve this, and I hope you never forget what you deserve and what you mean to this world. To him.”

She looked behind her through the open balcony door, eyes settling on Giovanni who was still asleep.

His broad frame sprawled across the king-sized bed, one arm flung over where she'd been lying minutes before.

Her lips tugged at the corner, taking in the rare sight of him completely at rest, no phone in hand, no problems to solve.

Vulnerable and peaceful in the aftermath of his triumph.

“Thank you, Momma. We'll come see y'all first thing when we get back.”

“Okay, take care of yourself and your husband today. Y'all had a big weekend.”

Myra's voice cracked with emotion. “Lord, my baby got married.”

“Momma don't start crying,” Paige laughed, though her own eyes were getting misty. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Now go enjoy your honeymoon before real life comes calling.”

After they hung up, Paige sat in the quiet morning air, coffee growing cold in her hands as the reality of it all settled over her.

Less than a year ago, she'd been drowning in everyone else's needs, afraid to ask for help, convinced that independence meant isolation.

Now here she was, Mrs. Giovanni Dowlen, sharing dreams and burdens and building something beautiful with the man sleeping behind her.

She stretched, savoring the luxury of having nowhere to be. The bank had given her the week off, a gesture of goodwill from Ashton, who'd insisted she deserved to enjoy every moment of Giovanni's success.

She slipped back inside, pulling on his discarded T-shirt from the night before.

It still held his scent, soap, cologne, and that indefinable something that was only him.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her off guard: hair wild, lips still slightly swollen from his kisses, eyes bright despite the lack of sleep. She looked... happy.

“Wake up, superstar.”

Paige's voice pulled Giovanni from sleep, her lips pressed against his temple. Giovanni groaned, reaching for her without opening his eyes, pulling her close.

“What time is it?” he mumbled into her neck.

“Almost nine. The world's been up watching your show while you've been drooling on thousand-dollar pillows.” She ran her fingers through his beard.

“Damn, you look good in my clothes.”

Paige smiled, “You say that every time.”

“Because it's true every time,” he said sitting up and pulling her onto his lap, “How'd you sleep?”

“Like the dead,” she admitted, leaning into him.

“Good, yesterday was a big day.” That was an understatement. A premier turned into a proposal, which turned into her taking vows to love him in sickness and health.

“Yesterday was amazing.”

He nodded toward his phone, and she handed it to him. This wasn't his normal routine. He was intentional about not touching his phone for at least an hour after he woke. The day had a way of handling you otherwise. But he couldn’t keep his curiosity contained.

“You nervous about how people will react to the show?” Paige asked, noticing his hesitation. Giovanni didn't answer right away.

“A little,” he admitted finally. “This is my vision, my community. If they try to edit it into some reality TV bullshit...” He shook his head.

“Hey, why are you thinking like that?”

“I’m being a realist it’s a possibility.”

“But you won’t let that happen. No one gets to play with your name. That's what I love about you. You protect what matters. And the show is a hit. They’d be fools to change anything.”

“Our name.” He paused, looking at her.

She smiled. It was going to take some time to get used to having a new one.

“It is a hit,” he murmured, shaking off the doubt creeping in. “I’m tripping.”

“Of course it is.” She reached for his phone to read the reviews. “I don’t know why you had doubts to begin with.”

“A little doubt is healthy. That's how I stay sharp.”

She looked down at him, eyes tracing the faint tension in his brow, the kind that never fully left. He carried so much without complaint—but she saw the toll.

“I'm proud of you,” she said simply. “Not just for the show. For everything you built to get here. It’s been a pleasure to watch.”

His eyes met hers, something vulnerable passing through them briefly before he smiled. “We're just getting started. Spirit's already talking season two, maybe even a line of custom parts.”

She nodded, fingers tracing the tattoo that peeked from beneath his tank top. “Long as you don't forget who you are in all this.”

“How could I?” He caught her hand, pressed a kiss on her palm. “I got you to remind me.”

The moment stretched between them; comfortable silence filled the room. This was her favorite version of them, unguarded, unhurried, existing together in the quiet moments.

“We should make breakfast,” Giovanni stated like he was sharing a secret, “I’m tired of the hotel room service shit.”

Paige smiled, remembering the morning after their first night together, how he'd fed her and cared for her even then. “First day things.”

“Nah, stepping it up this time.” He stood, lifting her easily with him. “Pancakes. Bacon. The works. Celebration breakfast.”

“You always drive me a good kinda crazy. I’ll help.”

The kitchen became their playground. Paige perched on the counter, legs swinging, occasionally handing him ingredients but mostly watching.

“My daddy used to make Sunday breakfast,” Giovanni said, the memory seemingly surfacing without warning. “No matter how late he worked Saturday, no matter what was going on at the shop. Pancakes, eggs, bacon so crispy it shattered when you bit it.”

Paige smiled, imagining a younger version of the man before her, watching his father with the same fascinated attention she now gave him. As Giovanni described his father's Sunday breakfast tradition, Paige found herself smiling, but with a distant look in her eyes.

“What?” he asked, catching her expression.

“Just thinking about PJ.” It came out softly, almost reflective. “He used to steal all the bacon before I could get to it.” She laughed, the memory both painful and sweet. “Haven't thought about that in years.”

Giovanni reached for her hand, understanding the rare gift of her sharing these memories. “I wish I would’ve been able to meet him. I’ll be sure to honor him by eating all the bacon,” he smiled and kissed her neck.

PJ would’ve liked Giovanni. That thought came out of nowhere, but it settled heavy and true.

Maybe the guilt would never fully leave her.

But this life she was building, it felt like a kind of redemption.

The healed woman in her knew now: if it was his time, nothing she did could’ve changed it.

Her parents would’ve just buried two children instead of one.

“Your pops would’ve loved the show.” She wanted to refocus her mind on anything else but missing her brother.

Giovanni nodded, flipping another perfect pancake. “He would've had opinions, though. ‘Why you letting them film that part? That's trade secrets, boy.’ ” His impression of his father's gruff voice made her laugh. She wished that she could have met him, but she had a pretty good idea of who he’d be.

“What about your momma?” she asked. “She excited?”

“Shit, you know it. Already texted this morning talking about how the phone's been ringing off the hook. Ladies at church, cousins who ain't reached out in years. She's eating it up.”

The easy rhythm of their conversation continued as they moved to the table, plates piled high with food. Paige closed her eyes at the first bite, making a small sound of appreciation that had Giovanni grinning.

“Told you.” He reached for the syrup. “Skills.”

“Never doubted you, baby,” she said around another bite.

As they ate, conversation drifted—plans for the day, maybe a drive up the coast, maybe nothing at all.

“I was thinking...” Giovanni set down his fork.

Paige raised a brow. “That's dangerous.”

He gave her a look—half amused, half something heavier. “I'm trying to have a moment here.”

“My bad.” She straightened up, tone playful. “You were thinking...?”

“About what's next.” His eyes held hers. “For me. For you. For us.”

A flutter started low in Paige's stomach. What he might say next scared her a little bit. She wasn’t quite ready to share him, so she hoped this wasn’t about kids. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He reached across the table, lacing his fingers with hers. “I want more of this. Mornings. Breakfasts. Just... us. All the time.”

“I never want us to forget this. The quiet, the comfort. The small moments that make everything else make sense. Because as we move and continue to grow, I feel like shit might get hectic.”

“We won’t. I promise to always make time for you. You will be the head of our home. Oh shit, I gotta move in now. We have a home.”

“Yeah baby, you do. You ready for that?”

“I’ll get ready. I wanna be where you are. And I know my husband wouldn’t dare let me sleep anywhere that’s not our home, at least I hope he wouldn’t.”

“Exactly, you coming home the minute we get back. Shit, I might make a phone call and get it moved like right now.”

“Do it. My spare keys with Pedro. That’s one less thing for me to stress about.”

Giovanni smirked, eyeing her with affection. “Look at you, handling shit like a big girl.”

Paige moved to clean the table off. She rounded the table, grabbed his plate. She kissed his shoulder and winked at him. Giovanni pulled her back before she could walk away, “I adore you, Paige.”

“I love you, too.”

After breakfast, they moved to the couch, their limbs tangled, her head on his chest, his heartbeat beneath her ear.

The TV played softly in the background, some cooking show neither of them was watching.

Giovanni's fingers traced along her spine, occasionally dipping beneath the hem of her (his) shirt, making her shiver.

“How my dawg doing?” he asked.

Paige nodded. “As good as can be expected. Dialysis still kicking his ass, but the new meds are helping with the fatigue.”

“I've been thinking about that too,” Giovanni said, shifting slightly to look at her. “About what we could do. For him. For people like him.”

She lifted her head, curious. “What do you mean?”

“The show's got reach now. Platform. Audience.” His eyes lit up the way they always did when he was building something in his mind. “What if we used it? Did a special episode, maybe a fundraiser. For awareness of Kidney disease. All of it.”

Paige stared at him, emotion welling up unexpectedly. “You'd do that?” she asked.

“In a heartbeat.” He held her face gently, his thumb moving across her temple. “Your family is my family now, P. That's how this works. And your pops felt comfortable enough to ask that of me. I gotta honor it.”

She kissed him so deeply she tried to pour everything she was feeling into it.

Because sometimes words failed her when it came to his heart.

She’d never met a man that had a heart like his.

A man that effortless put others before himself.

When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, she rested her forehead against his.

“You're somethin’ else, you know that?”

He grinned, that same cocky, confident smile that had caught her attention the first time she saw him. “I got my moments.”

They spent the rest of the day in that peaceful bubble, alternating between lazy conversation and comfortable silence.

Giovanni sketched ideas for builds while she read beside him, occasionally sharing quotes and moments that made her laugh or think.

They ordered in, fed each other bites between kisses, and let themselves enjoy the rare luxury of being nowhere, except with each other.

“If someone had told me six months ago that I’d be here,” she murmured, “I would've laughed in their face.” Six months ago, she’d been dragging dead weight, stuck in old cycles, pouring into everyone but herself. Now she had peace. The kind that came with partnership.

Giovanni caught her hand, pressed it flat against his chest. “And now?”

“Now I can't imagine being anywhere else.” She lifted her eyes to his, letting him see the truth in them. “You were the catalyst to everything changing for the better.”

“We changed each other,” he corrected, voice thick with emotion. “And we're just getting started.”

As sleep pulled at them both, Paige curled into his side, fitting against him like she'd been carved from his rib, like she'd always belonged exactly there.

In the quiet space between yesterday's triumph and tomorrow's possibilities, there was only them, Paige and Giovanni, building a love worth keeping.