Page 41 of Thunderstruck (Starstruck Love Stories #3)

Bonnie

EIGHT YEARS LATER

There is no better sight than my front door after a long shoot, and I breathe a sigh of relief as Eli pulls into our garage in Los Angeles. You would think, after all these years, I would get used to being away from home, but every time it gets harder to leave.

“I’ll bring in your bags,” Eli says, though he doesn’t have to tell me the plan. We have our routine pretty much locked in and have for years. He’s practically part of the family now.

Still, I give him a smile and a thank you, and then I head inside while he gathers my things from the trunk. The house is quiet—maybe a little too quiet—but it’s late enough that maybe I’ve already missed the bedtime routine. I hope not. I’ve been away for nearly three weeks, which is way too many nights to miss Hank’s stories, and there’s always that underlying fear that I’ll be missed less and less every time I’m on location somewhere.

I know it’s stupid to think that, but old habits die hard.

I’m nearly halfway through the house before I finally catch a little voice, and I peek my head into the playroom, knowing what I’ll find. Sure enough, four-year-old Ella is deep into a dramatic soliloquy in front of an audience of stuffed animals. The princess dress Liam bought her is still too big on her, but based on the many stains on the front, I’m guessing Hank has given up on convincing her to take it off so he can wash it. She has always been dedicated to whichever role she’s playing at the time. With her hair in braids and a tiara perched on her head—a gift from Freya last year—she’s acting her little heart out and has no idea I’m here.

I’ll say hi when she’s finished perfecting her political speech—it might actually be a declaration of war, the more I listen to it—but for now I move on. Sloane’s room is empty, but that doesn’t surprise me. I know exactly where she’ll be. Hank’s coming up on a deadline, which means…

I pause in the doorway of the master and take in the familiar sight. Hank sits against the headboard in his pajamas, glasses on the tip of his nose as he writes in a notebook because he still dislikes drafting on a screen when he can avoid it. Sloane sits beside him with her own notebook perched on her lap, mimicking her dad in every way. Where Ella inherited my dramatics and exuberance, Sloane has been calm and empathetic from the beginning. She doesn’t quite have Hank’s confidence yet, but she’ll get there.

Hank looks up, and though he doesn’t say anything, the smile he gives me warms me down to my toes. I don’t know how this man can make me feel so loved with just a look, but he does.

“Mommy!” Ella’s scream precedes her only by a second before she slams into my legs and wraps her arms around me.

Sloane scrambles off the bed to join in the hugging. “You’re back!”

“Oh, I missed you both so much!” I drop into a crouch to wrap them up and kiss their faces until they start squirming to get free. “Were you good for Daddy?”

“Yes!” Ella says with so much conviction that I almost believe her.

I stand just in time to welcome Hank’s solid embrace. “Only a dozen meltdowns,” he murmurs.

“Oh, that’s not bad!” I say with a laugh.

“Did Eli come with you?” Sloane asks.

“Check the guest room.”

Both girls squeal and rush through the house to find their favorite bodyguard. Eli loves the girls almost as much as we do, and I’m sure he bought them some sort of trinket while we were in Tahiti for the shoot. At this point, they practically have a whole room just for the things they’ve gotten from me, Eli, and Derek. Hank almost never buys them anything when he’s on his book tours, but he says that’s because he would rather share memories than souvenirs. The girls never complain; they live for his stories.

“Finally,” Hank breathes when the sounds of the girls’ excitement fades. Tugging me close, he kisses me fiercely. “I thought they’d never leave.”

Laughing, I pull him back to the bed and curl up beside him as he picks up his notebook once more. “You know they’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“Yes, but now that you’re home they have no excuse to stay up. And then I get you all to myself.” He kisses the top of my head and picks up his pen, knowing these few minutes are all I’m going to give him to finish whatever scene he was working on.

It’s been almost a month since I last saw this man. We have some lost time to make up for.

As Hank writes in his smooth and easy handwriting, I listen to the sound of his heartbeat and breathe in his clean scent. I miss this when I’m away. I miss the chaos of the girls and monthly meetups with our friends and quiet moments with the man I am hopelessly in love with. Somehow I fall more in love with him every day.

Only a few lines into what he was writing, Hank chuckles and closes his notebook. “Do you have any idea how distracting you are?” he asks, setting the notebook on the side table.

I curl up closer to him. “I’m just sitting here.”

“Exactly. Distracting.” He grabs me and rolls until we’re tangled up together and his weight pins me down into the mattress. “I missed you,” he whispers, then claims my mouth with his own.

We don’t come up for air until a little voice breaks us apart. “Daddy, why are you kissing Mommy like that?” Ella asks.

Hank snorts a laugh, pressing his face into my neck.

I’m breathless, eager to put the girls to bed so we can continue what we started. “Careful, McAllister,” I whisper. “Kisses like that might get you another daughter.”

“You promise?” Hank sighs and sits up, straightening his glasses.

I smack him but can’t help considering the idea. We haven’t tried for another because I’ve been swamped with projects, but outside of the final Gabrielle movie that I’m filming in a couple of months, I haven’t committed to anything. I haven’t wanted to.

I don’t say anything until we’ve bathed the girls and sent them off to bed with a story. Hank has apparently been telling a thrilling epic tale about a magical girl who has been given a kingdom besieged by war—Ella’s war cries make sense now—and the girls listened with rapt attention, eager for the next installment. Hank is the best storyteller, and even I was enthralled as he chronicled the princess’s latest adventure.

But now we’re alone and the house is quiet, and once I’m in pajamas and snuggled up next to Hank again, I decide to be brave.

“What if I quit my job?” I ask.

Hank stiffens. “What?”

I’m too afraid to look at him, so I bury my face in his chest. “What if I retire after this next Frost movie? Would you be okay with that?”

“Would I be… You want to stop acting?”

“Maybe. Maybe just for a little bit. But I miss the girls so much when I’m filming. I miss you. I miss you so much, Hank. And I hate that you have to deal with all the meltdowns and the growing pains and the school orientations because I’m busy with my career.”

He wraps me up in a tight hold that shuts out everything but him. “Bonnie, if you want to stop acting, I’m one hundred percent behind you. But only if you want to. I’m happy to parent while you’re living your dream. Really.”

I finally lift my head and meet his eyes. They’re as warm as always and tell me that he means every word he says. “What if my dream looks different now? What if my dream is Sloane and Ella and you?” I smile and brush my hand through his hair. “It’s always been you.”

Hank leans in and kisses me softly. “I wouldn’t mind having you around more.” His next kiss is more fervent. “Especially if we’re going to have another daughter.”

Snickering, I shift to give myself a better angle to kiss this man the way I really want to. “What if we have a son?” I ask in between kisses.

He chuckles and rolls me onto my back without breaking his mouth from mine, his hands wrapping around my waist. “Then I will love him just as much as I love the first two babies you gave me.” He kisses me long and deep, and I lose myself in this man and the perfect life we’ve built together.

I can’t wait to see where it takes us next.