Page 48 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

Emily

The morning air is crisp as we step onto the porch, the sky a cloudless blue. Clay stands by the steps, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

Sam is beside me, carrying our bags to the truck. His movements are quick and efficient, but there’s a tension in his shoulders I haven’t seen before. I realize that leaving isn’t easy for him, so I'm tucking that knowledge away as I’m learning more about my husband daily.

“Thank you for having us,” I say, stepping toward Clay.

He turns to me, his expression softening. “You’re family now,” he says gruffly. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

His words catch me off guard, and I find myself blinking back sudden tears. I realize how much has changed. This isn't just about Sam and me anymore; it's about belonging to something bigger, something with roots.

“Take care of yourself,” he adds, his eyes dropping briefly to my stomach. “And that baby. Sam might act like he’s got it all together, but he’ll need you to keep him in line.”

I laugh softly, nodding. “I’ll do my best.”

Clay looks at Sam then, and for a moment, neither of them says anything. A silent understanding that words can’t communicate. Finally, Clay steps forward and claps a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“You’re doing good, son,” he says, his voice low. “Don’t forget that.”

Sam nods, his jaw tight. “Thanks, Dad.”

As we climb into the truck, I glance back at the farmhouse, my heart tugging at the thought of leaving this place. It’s more than just the charm of the farm or the peaceful quiet—it’s the glimpse I’ve gotten of Sam’s childhood and who he truly is.

And I know I’ll carry that with me, even as we head back to Jacksonville and our regular lives.

The drive is quiet, the landscape shifting from open fields to highways and cityscapes. Sam continues looking straight ahead,nodding his head in rhythm to the faint music playing on the radio.

“You okay?” I ask, breaking the silence.

He glances at me, his lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah. Just trying to figure things out.”

“About your dad?”

“About everything,” he admits. “The farm, the baby... us.”

I nod, understanding the depth of his thoughts because they mirror my own. The simplicity of farm life feels different from the whirlwind waiting for us in Jacksonville, and I can’t help but feel a pang of anxiety about our future.

When we finally pull into the driveway of Cass’s oceanfront house, the sight of the sprawling mansion feels almost surreal after the rustic charm of Clay’s farm.

As I go to grab our bags and head inside, Sam shakes his head. “Let’s leave them in the truck for now.”

Hesitating but not wanting to argue, I approach the house as he suggests. Cass is there as soon as we step through the door, his expression tight.

“Finally,” he says, his tone clipped. “I wasn’t sure if I should warn you guys what’s waiting for you here or not.”

“What’s going on?” Sam asks, frowning.

Cass runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “You haven’t seen the news, have you?”

“No,” I say slowly, my stomach twisting.

Cass sighs, pulls out his phone, and swipes to a news article. He holds it out to us, and the headline feels like a punch to my solar plexus.

“Rockstar Sam Ryder’s Secret Marriage and Baby Bombshell: Exclusive Details Inside!”

My mouth goes dry as I scan the article, the words blurring together. There are pictures of Sam and me at the Jacksonville performance, the hospital, and a photo of the Little White Chapel in Vegas, where we got married. But the picture that makes my blood run cold is a recent photo of us at the barn dance. Every detail of our private lives seems to be splashed across the screen, speculated on, and exaggerated for maximum effect.

“How… how did they know we were at the farm?” I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

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