Page 82 of Professional Consult

And when I go home, I don’t go alone, but unfortunately, I have more than just Lexi in tow. But that’s okay.

Clint decided to stay a few days, and while I’d love some alone time with Lexi, it feels good to finally see him again.

Going from bachelor to two houseguests is an adjustment, but I make it work, even though Clint and Lexi mercilessly roast each other.

Somehow, we just fit together, and instead of me being the authoritative figure in Clint’s life, I’m his friend. His brother. We drink beer, go boating, talk about things that once seemed impossible. Lexi’s there when I need her, but slinks to the shadows when Clint and I are bonding.

And now, looking at Lexi, I know that even though it’s been a rough journey, it happened like this for a reason.

“We’re going to have to get a bigger bed if Riggs is going to continue sleeping with us.” Lexi sighs as she squeezes between me and the canine.

“Lexi,” I say sheepishly.

“Yes, chief?”

“How do you feel about babies?”

“Babies? As in my own babies, to which there are none? Or other people’s babies?”

“Our babies,” I spit out in a rush. “I just…think we should figure out what we want in life.”

“I think babies are kind of scary.”

My heart sinks. “Oh…”

“But not as scary as my husband out on patrol.”

“That’s scary?”

“What if you don’t come home?”

“Sweetheart, this is Pond Spring, where nothing ever happens.”

“Good, let’s keep it that way.”

“So…what about babies?” I ask again.

“Babies are good.”

I smile. “Good.”

It’s well past midnight and I know I should go to bed, but question after question pours out of us, things we probably should have asked before now.

And somehow, we answer each one perfectly. Like we were meant to be.

EPILOGUE

LUKE

Years Later

I will never get used to walking the red carpet.

It’s my eighth time taking the stroll, and it always feels new, but I’ll do it a million times and not complain because it’s forher.

A reporter stops Lexi, asking her a series of questions that are lost on me. The lights are just too bright, competing for my attention. But somehow, Lexi answers everything without misstep, and I’m again reminded of how lucky I am.

The worst part of the carpet stroll is how slow it is. You walk five steps, stop, sometimes you have to be repositioned, and then you wait. A few times, reporters have disrespected Lexi, and I damn near came to blows once, but Lexi manages to come out of every unfortunate interaction unscathed. There’s just something about her that people don’t want to hate. A brightness that shines. I imagine that’s how she climbed to fame. Some innate quality that dazzles with an intensity that’s impossible to ignore.