Page 45 of Falling for the Bombshell (Falling for #1)
Year one
Before September rolled in with the golden turn of leaves and wedding anniversary reminders, the year had already been nothing short of unforgettable.
Because the Broncos won the Super Bowl.
Linnie nearly cried. Blaine did cry. Decked out in their matching orange and navy jerseys, their living room filled with snacks, friends, and way too much yelling at the TV, they celebrated in the best way—jumping around the house, Daisy barking excitedly, Ember doing zoomies through the hallway.
Blaine picked Linnie up, spun her around and shouted, “ THIS IS OUR YEAR!”
And honestly? It had been.
Linnie ’ s new job was thriving. Blaine was crushing it at work and football. They had a house full of laughter, late-night gaming, dancing in the kitchen, and family dinners on Sundays. Even with the challenges, they found more joy in the everyday than either of them expected.
So when September came and they hit their one-year anniversary, it felt like celebrating something so much more than just twelve months.
It was a celebration of how far they ’ d come—from that tiny apartment off Orchard Lane, to moving in with Blaine ’ s parents, to buying a house, a new dog, and building a life that was so them.
A year of memories sealed with a framed photograph from their first dance, The Rose by Conway Twitty scripted elegantly beneath.
A year of love, football, fur babies… and now, the promise of something more.
Blaine and Linnie celebrated quietly but deeply.
A photo shoot captured them barefoot in the grass, tangled in laughter, Daisy bounding between them and Ember grinning with wildflower collar.
Blaine surprised Linnie that night with a framed photograph of them swaying during their first dance, the lyrics of The Rose by Conway Twitty elegantly printed beneath in Blaine ’ s handwriting.
“ Paper,” he said, kissing her temple. “ For our first year. Old school tradition.” Linnie wiped away tears as she held it to her chest, knowing she'd treasure it forever.
Just a few weeks later in October, they made another big leap— packing up their lives again and moving out to Lockwood.
Acres of land stretched around their new home like an embrace.
A big shop for Blaine ’ s tools and truck projects, a wide-open yard where Daisy and Ember raced each other through fallen leaves, and a front porch that faced the sunrise.
Out here, the stars felt closer, and their dreams somehow clearer.
Blaine ’ s football season loomed—five months out and already demanding. Practices picked up, meetings ran late. He pushed himself harder than ever before, trying to be the leader his team needed… while at home, he was still trying to be everything Linnie needed too .
They had been trying for a baby for months, each cycle filled with whispered hopes and quiet heartbreak.
Linnie didn ’ t say much at first, but Blaine saw it in her eyes—the way she avoided the baby aisles at the store, the way her voice cracked when someone asked, “ So, when are the babies coming?” He held her every time the test came back negative.
Promised her it would happen. That no matter what, she was his world.
Then, Christmas Eve came.
Linnie had been a little off all week—nauseous in the mornings, tired even after ten hours of sleep. That afternoon, when Blaine left to run last-minute errands, she took a test. Then another. Then three more.
Positive.
She could barely breathe, clutching the counter, tears running down her cheeks.
She raced to wrap a tiny box with two onesies inside—one blue with tiny footballs, one pink with sparkly “ Daddy ’ s #1” stitched on the chest. That night, by the fire, she handed it to Blaine with shaking hands.
“ Merry early Christmas,” she whispered.
He opened it slowly, eyes wide—then stunned.
He looked up at her, voice catching. “ Are you serious?” She nodded, and he stood, scooping her into his arms, spinning her around until they were both crying and laughing in the glow of the tree.
Daisy barked, Ember zooms around, and the world felt like it had stopped just for them.
On New Year ’ s Blaines Simple Birthday party, they told their families. Screams. Tears. Champagne. Confetti. Everyone over the moon. Their child would be loved beyond measure, that was already certain.
But January brought fear they never saw coming.
One morning, Linnie woke with sharp pain in her lower abdomen.
Blaine didn ’ t even grab a jacket—he wrapped her in a blanket and carried her straight to the truck.
The ER was quiet, sterile, and terrifying.
Blaine held her hand as they ran tests, did ultrasounds, and whispered in low, serious tones.
The doctor finally returned.
“ The baby is okay,” he said gently. “ But we ’ re dealing with a high- risk pregnancy.
Linnie ’ s going to need to stay off her feet for the remainder…
strict bed rest.” Blaine didn ’ t blink.
“ We ’ ll do whatever it takes.” He kissed Linnie ’ s forehead as she cried, holding her like glass but with all the strength in the world. “ You ’ re not doing this alone.
We ’ ve got this.”
And they did. Together.
One year into marriage, a lifetime still to go—and now, a new heartbeat to guide them forward.